#also if i order something and it takes longer than a month to get shipped to me it's basically free | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eatommo · 6 months ago

Text

Hotshot [c.f.99]

CW: Poly!batchxreader, group sex, exhibitionism, oral sex (m&f recieving), double penetration, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, vaginal and anal creampie, multiple partners, cumshots, anal sex, ass eating, spanking, praise, authority kink, cucking? kinda?, implied recording of sex, mention of weapons, mentions of aftercare, overstimulation, post season 7 pre omega, dom/sub dynamics, allusions to subspace, slight degradation, shower sex, mutual pining lots of kissing, no clonecest, liberties for hunter's tattoo, reader has hair long enough to pull, reader gets picked up and carried, i probably missed something let me know!

A/N: 5.6k of pure smut, absolutely no plot here. All mistakes are mine, repost and let me know what/if you like <3

As you climb the steps to the Marauder, something about this mission feels different. It's been months since you've been away from the boys, and almost as long since you cared.

Since running away from the clutches of the empire and charming your way aboard the ship you've become an asset to the team even in just your companionship, but it was also nice to have someone around who wasn't a clone. It made it that much easier to do recon, and also that much easier to infiltrate a group because your face wasn't spread across every corner of the Empire.

However, the longer you stayed with them, the more you valued what made them different. You learned who to go to for help with blaster trouble, and even learned to overlook Crosshair’s slights during your target practice. You’ve also learned that Hunter was sensitive to flowers and strong scents and that he had the best-smelling soap aboard the ship (and never seemed to mind when you used it). Tech, on the other hand, was always great at making you feel included, but was always, always going to double-check anything you did to the ship ‘just in case.’ Echo might've been one of the most interesting people to talk to, during his work with the 501st and the glory days of working alongside some of the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy he saw many planets and cultures that you had only dreamed about. Wrecker, well, he was a big softy despite his talent for demolitions and overall penchant for violence, he was the first to volunteer to take you out and stretch your legs in a nearby city and to help you bring home rations (and a sweet treat or two) for the rest of the crew, and has even carried you home from cantina trips a time or two.

They were closer than any other troop you'd seen, all depending and working so tightly and neatly together you'd think that adding you to the mix would complicate things but all you seemed to do was fit in like sand in the desert. You fell into a routine, they'd leave you at the ship during more dangerous jobs, typically with Echo or Tech at your side to assist with any repairs as you kept the inside of the ship in order, and kept a close eye on any equipment and prepping rations and meals as they became available.

After a stop on Batuu, in which you fought every urge to procure a Loth cat, instead letting Crosshair buy you a long thin vibroblade to appease you. “I haven't given up by the way.” You shout over your shoulder, as you settle into your seat before the others.

“I've thought so.” Tech, his voice more amused than anything. “Let us not berate the woman so that she uses that thing on us, shall we? We are cleared for takeoff.” Wrecker chuckles at the idea of you brandishing the thin blade to any of them. You could hold your own for sure, but you were no ARC trooper.

You settle aboard, staying seated until you reach the upper atmosphere, locking your cloak away with your blade, settling back into the seat near the cockpit, and resting your head against the wall.

“If you need rest, my bunk is open,” Wrecker whispers his words and his voice contradicting each other. He's gruff but his speech is soft like he's afraid to startle you, he's cleaning his blaster but leans forward to speak softly to you. “It's still the biggest bunk.” He smiles and with his helmet in his lap, you can see the intense scaring over the side of his head, and your fingers twitch at your side begging to caress it.

“I'm fine thank you.” You beam at him surprised by the crack in your voice and not wanting to seem ungrateful for the gesture. “I’m quite content out here.” Wrecker blushes, as if embarrassed he even brought it up.

You can hear the audible judgemental breath of Crosshair even from your position behind his back, as he examines his rifle, something amiss and there's a thick tension in the room you can't quite place. Glancing around as they settle in for take-off, none of them seem to want to meet your eyes.

“I didn't expect you all to get so shy, I thought maybe you were starting to warm up to me.” You let your voice trail off, a hint of a tease that cuts into the thick tension in the air for a brief moment. Before Hunter sharply stands up and lets his feet carry him towards you.

Last night’s mission for Rex was messier than any of you had expected and used up the last of your bacta supply. Hence the trip to Batuu, and what you thought was a tense conversation about purpose or authority between the group. You’d overheard something about keeping secrets when you’d greeted them at the ship’s ramp and the pinched nerve in Hunter’s jaw encouraged you to keep your mouth shut. Since the tension between each of them has been as taught and dangerous as a tightrope. As the long-haired clone approached you, you sat straighter, already apologizing for being difficult before he cut you off.

Leaning down until he is practically whispering in your ear, "We are programmed to be professional first and foremost. And we are not always so shy."

Just sharing your space with him has your body reacting to him, vibrating in both fear and a sneaking feeling of arousal. His breath is hot and you turn to look into his dark brown eyes, eyes you should be so familiar with. “I am not an officer, I do not bite, and there's no reason to be formal.” the sentence comes out as a squeak, and you try to hide embarrassment flashing through your cheeks.

He smiles, his voice dips lower but is so soft you swear you can feel his words caress your skin, “Easy hotshot, we might like a woman who bites.”

Oh, oh wow. We.

In an instant, everything and all your feelings about them shift and change. You spent the last few rotations convincing yourself it was normal to feel bubbly around them, they'd saved you, and they were providing for you. This feeling, the unmistakable pull of longing and need in the pit of your belly, would complicate things.

Hunter stands and departs the conversation with an ease you envy. You take a deep breath and compose yourself just to look up and see the rest of the crew watching you, like a wounded animal, you catch just a glimmer of a blush in Echo’s face.

Rex mentioned they were a tight-knit group he seemed shocked you fell in line with them, but hell you didn't expect this. Each of them is in their thoughts as you glance around the ship. Echo and Tech are busying themselves with the controls, but you can see Echo worrying his lip, and Tech turning his head to glance at you every few moments as if wondering what will happen first. Or rather who?

Crosshair stares at you, blankly like he's trying to read every line in your smile or every wrinkle in your clothes, your eyes click together and he smiles like a lothcat with a womprat in his teeth. “You're not intimidated by us?” It's almost as if he's as shocked as the fact itself, there's a cutting edge to the statement like you should be, and then a corner of his mouth turns up. “You like being here,” he tests the statement as if tasting the fact on his tongue, “with all of us.”

You smirk, doing your best to match the heat in his stare, “I am grateful. I've never felt so important or wanted,” you swallow thickly letting the heat in your body you know Hunter can sense, speak for itself, “At least, not yet.” You shift in your seat glancing up at Hunter who is glaring hungrily at your chest as if he could hear your heart leap in your chest with every passing moment.

You glance up to the stars ahead of the ship, Tech looks like he's preparing the ship to jump to light speed. The return mission, at its worst, should only take a few days and even less of that is travel, normally you're not one for long lightspeed trips but this time you wonder if it will be too short.

The way the crew looks at you makes your skin tingle, not sure if you’ve ever been paid this much attention before. As the ship lurches into hyperspace, you let your head lull back to catch Hunter's attention, peering up towards his face as your chin hovers just a foot away from his codpiece.

Doing your best to keep your breath even, a part of you wishes to stand and kiss him, but this time it’s your turn to feel shy. You stand, brushing your chest across Hunter’s’ and waltzing over to lean against the control panel of the ship and the two quieter clones on this ship.

The moment Tech realizes you’re moving towards him his posture is stuck straight, but Echo only leans slightly towards you as you pass your hand over his shoulder. Standing at the front of the ship has only allowed them all to stare at you, your heart skips a beat. You see Hunter’s eye twitch, he is reading you like a book.

“Well,” you speak slowly and eloquently, playing into their curiosity, “How should we pass the time?”

“Come here.” the room's attention snaps to Crosshair, whose red-hot gaze is marring into your skin. Silence falls over the craft as Crosshair lifts a hand and gestures toward his empty waiting lap. Slowly, Echo, Tech, and Wrecker turn again towards you but Hunter stays strong locked into some silent dialogue with his brother.

You feel as if it is entirely dangerous to cross the space between the two. Yet your feet carry you without worry, and neither of them breaks until their vision is obstructed by your body. You turn facing the softened expression in Hunter’s eyes, and slowly lower yourself onto Crosshair's lap.

Placing your hands on his knees to steady yourself, you lean back until your head is resting on his chest and his breath is hot against the shell of your ear. “Good girl.”

His whispers send shivers down your spine and Hunter sinks to his knees in front of you, as Cross removes your shirt from over your head and the rest of the Batch descends upon you like wolves.

As Hunter’s face presses against the softness of your hip, Tech's teeth graze your neck and Wrecker's hands smooth over your nipples, you're overwhelmed at their strength. These are battle-hardened soldiers, Crosshair runs a calloused finger down your spine, and you're reminded how soft you are. Your skin is plush and comforts all of Hunter’s senses as the boys proceed to lose themselves upon you, you're reminded of the comfort they provide for you, a safety net you never knew you craved and the appetite you never knew could become so hungry.

Your canvas pants are ripped down the leg by Wrecker and Hunter’s combined efforts, the sound almost drowned out by a collection of panting wanton noises, and the scraps hit the floor out of sight.

Hunter noses across the top of your panties, letting his breath fan over the sensitive skin of your pussy as you feel Cross shift his hips and push his hard cock into your ass. All of them are in full armor, save for the helmets, yet you lie strewn out before them slick pooling in your panties as they take turns pulling pleasure from your body like they serve no higher purpose.

It's Wrecker who pulls himself from his flight suit first, and you can't remember ever having such a physical reaction to something like this before. You reach out on instinct, fingers not wrapping completely around his girth and teasing the pink tip until it begins to leak into your palm. He towers over your head as whimpers and shudders wrack through his body as though he's never been touched.

You catch a glimpse of Echo, standing slightly off to the side, watching with his pupils fully dilated as he follows the path of Hunter’s mouth on your skin his face flush with crimson. Tilting your head back you turn towards Crosshair and give him a deep kiss, letting him lick into your mouth feverishly. Hunter’s fingers trace over your seam delicately over the thin fabric of your panties as they grow transparent with your desire.

Wrecker’s cock is thick and heavy in your hand, and you clench wantingly around nothing, his hips brush into your hand with a tenderness you long to experience. Crosshair snakes a hand up your chest and cradles the thin skin over your throat, chasing Tech’s glancing kisses away, but taking the opportunity to encourage you to grind your hips against his cock.

In a few mere movements, the men surrounding you have altered your state of mind and each passing touch coaxes you further into submission. Tech shifts and lets his breath ghost over your nipples, you turn your head and catch Hunter in a deep kiss noting how different he tastes and feels against you. You let your thumb swipe over the leaking tip of Wrecker's cock, and fight the urge to stuff your fingers in your mouth to taste.

Hunter breaks the kiss and steps away, letting Echo take his place between your legs but not before using his dagger to cut the hip of your undergarments and stuffing them into one of his pant pockets.

You blush at the obscenity of it all, but it quickly soothed away but the cool metal of Echo’s headpiece brushing over your thighs. Wordlessly Crosshair adjusts the seat so your pussy is presented to Echo, leaning more onto your back and looking up at the boys devouring your form.

His mouth is hot, licking softly over your clit as you relax with Crosshair stroking the pulse point in your neck. You’re slick with arousal and he doesn’t hesitate to lick it up teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

You writhe, letting yourself melt against him, fighting to stay concentrated enough to play with Wrecker’s balls tugging and rolling them beneath your fingers. Eager to pleasure every one of them.

Echo’s glove ghosts over your sex, teasing your entrance with a digit, the leather smoothly gliding over your skin. Hunter and Tech each take to stroking down your thighs and holding them in place, “Easy, meshla, we will take good care of you.”

Your mind is swimming, when did this start? Tech steps a hair closer to your face, tilting your jaw up with his free hand, and slips a finger past your lips. You suck lightly, sure to match the pace at which you’re stroking Wrecker. You get a praising hum, and Tech surprisingly is the second to drop his pants and pull himself free. Stroking himself to the rhythm of you teasing him with a curl of your tongue.

It's the tangled moan of you around Tech’s fingers that breaks Crosshair, his pants unbearably tight and each little movement of your hips making him clench his jaw to stave the noises that die in his throat. He lifts you to your feet, and removes his pants, letting himself spring free. You have to admit you expected the armor to be harder to take off.

You stand on unsteady feet, in an attempt to turn your head towards Crosshair, Hunter captures your chin in two fingers locking your eyes together. “Echo.” A chuckle reverberates between them, all seemingly on board with whatever plan this could be. Echo slides flat onto his back looking up at you and the rest of the boys. The realization is enough to make you shiver. Your pussy clenches, still empty, but a dripping mess sticks your thighs together. Hunter’s eyes are burning through your resolve, there’s an intensity you’d come to respect that now sends a spike of fear through you. “Sit.”

You go to protest but are quickly shut down and you look around at the men surrounding you eagerly but patiently waiting for you to follow his instructions. Swallowing thickly over the lump in your throat, you sink to your knees and hover a few inches from Echo’s waiting mouth. From your knees they tower above you, all but Hunter free from their confines. You get a good look at the three cocks, all weeping and swollen pink across their tip, beautifully complimenting the darker-tanned skin of their shaft.

Each of them was different, which only slightly surprises you, Wrecker being the thickest, but both Tech and Crosshair meet him in length. You can feel each breath from Echo’s mouth, knowing you're probably close to dripping across his chin. You lower slowly, afraid to hurt him, until he licks the seam of your entrance savoring the hot flesh and you seek his tongue sitting on his face in earnest. His mouth brings welcome waves of pleasure as he suckles on your clit.

They pump themselves slowly, enjoying the view of your tits bouncing with each shiver. You start to move your hips in small circles while reaching to palm over Crosshair’s balls and stroking up over his shaft squeezing a bead of precome from the tip. You open your mouth and glance between them, expecting to see some kind of hierarchy emerge but they take a half step toward you together.

You opt for taking Tech into your mouth, but only because he's in the middle, letting yourself drool around him as you suck on the thick knot of his cock head, before turning and spitting the excess saliva onto Crosshair’s cock coating it with slick to make your fist glide against him nice and quickly. Tightening around the base and working more of those beautiful precum drips from his leaking tip.

You snap back to Tech’s cock, tasting the sweat of his skin, and the desire for your body grows with each passing second as he throbs needfully in your mouth.

Echo is teasing your clit with calculated movements of his tongue, licking around it in sharp purposeful circles, and sucking on it every few passes. Enough to make your brain fuzz up each time his lips seal around you as Tech nudges the back of your throat to earn a gag.

You pull off him again, this time gathering the drool in your mouth to cover as much of Wrecker's cock as you physically can. His cock is so heavy it sways low on his hips thick and so hard your body is already aching for the sting that will accompany the stretch. You use the thick spit to pump him slower, allowing yourself a moment to admire what has to be the largest you'll ever get the chance to worship.

The slick sounds are broken with an “Atta girl.” in the shape of a deep growl from Wrecker’s chest. He reaches and gathers some drool from your chin and brushes it over your lip and you open instinctively, just as Echo uses his tongue to prod at your entrance. His praise is as wholesome as his affection for you.

Hunter has taken a seat across from the rest of you, watching as if analyzing each movement of your legs as they quiver from the ravenous pleasure and your throat tightens around the length of Crosshair's shaft. His thin fingers find purchase at the back of your neck, urging you to sputter around him and the sick squelch just barely audible beneath your moans.

Echo swiftly plunges two fingers into your pussy, crooking them and stroking deliciously at your g-spot and forcing you to pull yourself away from Crosshair to let your head drop as you fight for composure. “Let yourself enjoy it little one. It won’t be your last.” Cross takes the tip of his cock and taps the tip to your tongue.

You swear, body humming and teetering on the edge before losing yourself to one hellishly explosive orgasm. It shocks you, body shaking and toes curling against the cool floor as your body burns in the aftershocks Echo works you through it with some tentative kisses to your entrance, and he encourages you to sit up so he can slide out from under you.

So much of the room is spinning you don’t notice Tech sitting in front of you until you’re kissing him. His tongue finds yours in a syrupy sweet and methodical kiss as you fight to catch your breath. Wrecker moves behind you, running his rough hands down your back and palming the flesh of your ass, striking it with a loud slap.

Tech swallows your gasp, pinching your nipples and pulling them as Wrecker bends you at the waist until you’re scrambling to your hands and knees sucking Tech into your mouth with a compliant and satisfied hum.

Hunter speaks up, “Turn around.” The trance is broken for the briefest of seconds, and you don't have time to think before they’re turning you so you’re faced with Wrecker’s huge cock and Tech teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. The passive command that Hunter has over all of you gives you goosebumps, his authority even stronger than the ache they share for you.

You sink to your elbows, propping your ass up on display and practically begging for Tech to fuck you, pushing back onto the head of his cock, all while blinking away tears as Wrecker’s size makes your jaw ache. The larger man splays his hand across the back of your head, inciting your thick moans as you work as much of him as you can fit.

Tech’s hips pitch forward and he’s splitting you open in one fluid deep thrust until your ass is nestled against his hips and he grunts at the eager squeeze of your sex around him. You work your hips in sync with your head the drag of his cock along your walls is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. He shifts from both knees to one, allowing a deeper thrust to kiss your cervix with a hiss of pain-laced pleasure. He sets a pace, hips meeting yours in synchronous harmony, and the three of you get lost in each other's pleasure.

You’re briefly aware of Crosshair stroking himself above you and Hunter is still watching with bated breath as you service his brothers, wondering if you’ll let each of them have a turn or if they’ll need to give you a break.

Tech snakes a hand around to press a firm thumb against your clit, and a rush of fluid hits the floor of the cargo space that permeates his senses. The sickly sweet smell of your release coats his tongue and he chokes the head of his cock through his clothes to stop him from cumming before he even gets to touch you.

Your vision is white, and you’re vaguely aware of the spend running down your thighs. When Tech pulls himself free with a grunt you feel the hot ropes of his cum on your back you whine, feeling ashamed that you long for him to finish inside of you. You clench around nothing and sit up to look at Wrecker who brushes a hair out of your face. You kiss him, softly at first, unsure of his comfort with the taste of his precome in your mouth, but he growls and lifts you by your waist, licking into your mouth as he helps you hover over his cock.

You take advantage of the break, wrapping your arms around his neck and taking the weight off your knees in favor of straddling him. Even in his lap, you’re looking up at him. Letting gravity do some of the work, you adjust to let him prod at your entrance and sink slowly onto him, the slick warmth of your pussy a welcome substitute for your pretty mouth.

His chest rumbles beneath yours, groaning as your pussy flutters around him. You kiss him through a grimace, “Take your time.” He whispers against your mouth, low enough you’re not sure the others hear him. Heart swelling at the compassion, you let him slowly rock his hips against you, easing his way into your heat and keeping his hands splayed across your hips to support you.

It’s a slow process, each inch accompanied by breathless and muffled moans followed by kisses and words of endearment. “You can take it mesh’la.” You’re nearly there, body so in tune with his every word you nearly forgot your showmanship.

Crosshair is to your right, one hand gripping the base of his cock as precome dribbles and hangs just out of reach from your eager tongue, muttering something in a language you don’t understand.

You swear you can feel the throb of Wrecker inside of you, and he presses his mouth to your forehead as he pistons his hips slowly angling your body in a way so that he’s moving you along his shaft effortlessly.

Breathless and spent, you let him. Being filled by him is almost overwhelming, each push and pull feeling like he's going to split you in half. He mumbles and groans into your hairline, speaking nonsense in between bitten-off praise. When his fingers find your clit you all but cry, shaking your head in protest, “Please- I can't.”

It's Hunter that answers your cries, “You can.” His voice hoarse with need and restraint, “Be a good girl.” Your brow furrows, in concentration, tossing your head back in near agony at the overstimulation.

Wrecker leans forward and presses his mouth to the column of your throat sucking on the thin skin and leaving a pink welt in his wake. You feel as if you could explode, not able to hear the sounds of your screams as you shudder and writhe under his touch, against his skin and your body falls slack with the overwhelming pleasure.

He lifts his face and you catch a pleased smile, like a loth-wolf with its prey in its teeth. As he throbs and fucks his spend deep into your core. They all see the muted smile tug at the corner of your mouth as Wrecker cums inside you.

He holds you for a moment, kissing over the reddish blemish on your throat and waiting for you to make eye contact with him before slipping free with a tangled whimper from both of you.

Wrecker wraps your legs around him and stands on sturdy legs, you cling to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder hyperaware of the wetness between your thighs. He sets you on Hunter's lap, in your euphoria, he’s lost his pants and sits still in a pair of soft cotton underwear, stark black against his tanned abdomen. It’s now that you notice his tattoo, so familiar with the portion on his face you never notice how the tattoo bleeds across the entire left side of his body.

The lines are both clean and elegant, highlighting the rich flawless tone of his figure. Gorgeously broad shoulders with rippling cords of muscles supporting your cheek as you rest your head lazily and admire him. Placing a lingering and exhausted kiss to the stretch of skin between his shoulder and neck and relishing the warmth of him against your sweat-soaked skin, in the extra cold air of a ship in hyperspace.

He runs his fingers through your hair, scratching lightly and working every line of tension out of you over a few minutes. You distantly hear the sound of the fresher’s shower being turned on. Crosshair is gone, and you fear a pang of regret and pity.

Your breath is coming easier by the time, Hunter carries you towards the sound of the water. Crosshair meets you both under the water’s spray refreshing your senses and soothing the ache of your muscles. You get settled on your feet between them, legs feeling like they’re made of sand, Hunter’s body is pressed tightly to your back, anchoring and steadying you as you greet Crosshair with an inviting kiss.

He welcomes your touch, all but overtaking your space completely as you get pressed between the two of them and lost to the feeling of their bodies against yours, Hunter nestled into the small of your back and Crosshair’s cock leaking and purple with need against your belly.

The steam only adds to the dreamlike quality of it all, tendrils wafting off the ground and highlighting the sight of your ass pressed against him. Hunter doesn’t want to hurt you, but each passing second without fucking you is making him lose his sanity. As if he might just sink into the floor with the weight of his need crushing him entirely.

He nibbles at your earlobe, earning a low whine from your chest. You tilt your head in invitation for his affection, kissing up the column of your neck and tasting the water on your skin tangled with the smell of his brothers. He makes eye contact with Crosshair, and they communicate silently as they spin you around and switch roles.

Hunter licking into your mouth and letting his hand run down to your hip and pull you to him. Expecting the press of Crosshair to your back, you’re startled when you feel the graze of his teeth on your ass. His palms run over the smooth skin, kneading the flesh and watching it move in response to his touch.

Crosshair splays a hand on the small of your back, urging you to lean forward. You glance over your shoulder as he spreads you open and licks a stripe across your asshole. The feeling sends a shiver down your spine, you hear a chuckle as he presses the pad of his thumb into you and watches you with a hungry stare.

Hunter distracts you, kissing you slowly and running his hands soothingly down your back as Crosshair preps you to take him until he’s working two fingers in and out of you and sucking a bruise into your hip to match the one adorning your throat.

You nibble on Hunter’s lip, and bury your hands into his hair, tugging at the root living for the whimpers you get out of him. Crosshair kisses his way up your spine, standing straight, and this time you see them. There’s a small nod of agreement and both of them turn their full attention to you, “You gonna let us fuck you cyar’ika?”

Without hesitation, you nod. You’re not able to explain, how you were able to wrap your arms around Hunter as he hoisted you up his waist and you sank down onto his length. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was the way he demanded your submission through the tone of his voice. No, you thought, it was the way he sounded like he was begging you, he commanded your attention but the way he used his authority had you believing that you, and what he asked of you, was the most important thing in the galaxy. You wanted nothing more than to give him everything he asked for and more.

They give you a moment, Hunter biting his lip as your cunt squeezes him like you haven’t already come three times already. You throw an arm around Crosshair’s neck opening your legs just enough for him to slot himself against you and slowly push into you with the cant of his hips.

He goes incredibly slow, sawing his hips back and forth and relishing in the feeling of Hunter’s cock also nestled deep inside you making you impossibly tighter and the friction of your walls against him.

It feels like too much, pain and pleasure mixing in an enchanting cocktail of stimulation, yet still the familiar tug of an orgasm stirs in your belly. You suppress a sob at the idea of coming for a fourth time around the both of them. They hush you, nuzzling against you and pressing righteous and thankful kisses to your skin, “Look at you, pretty girl.” Crosshair’s voice is so low and drawn out that it takes every last shred of your concentration to hear what he’s saying, “You look so good taking everything we give you.”

The inflection acts like a highlight reel, your body remembering along with your brain the feeling of being the center of attention during your first orgasm. The complexity of your second. The white-hot stretch of Wrecker using and worshipping your body filling you to the brim during the aftershocks of your third. Hunter whispers against the shell of your ear, “Good girl.” Reading the signs of your body and feeling the crest of your orgasm build around him, and pulling you over the edge with his praise.

He presses his forehead to yours as he follows close behind, senses overwhelmed and fighting the bend to his knees as they buckle with the intensity of his climax.

Crosshair pumps into you from behind, lifting one of your legs slightly and changing the angle so he can thrust deeper grinding into you, and urging you to lean more heavily on him to keep the three of you from collapsing as he stills and spills into you.

The three of you pant in silence, ragged breath lost in the noise of the water hitting the metal floor of the fresher, you wordlessly separate. The endorphins running through your bloodstream turn your muscles' pain into a blissful ache you never want to forget.

#polybatch #poly!badbatchxreader #poly x reader #the bad batch x you #the bad batch x reader #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #the bad batch spoilers #clone force 99 #the bad batch #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb #star wars fanfiction #star wars #mandoa #no clonecest

200 notes · View notes

ender--slime · 2 months ago

Text

AAAAAAAND PREORDERS ARE CLOSED!

holy shit!! thank you all four million bajillion times THANK YOU for the overwhelming support!! the total order count came tooooo…

FIVE HUNDRED ORDERS!! 500!! EXACTLY FIVE HUNDRED!

WAYGH!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! THATS CRAZY!! Thank you so much!!! This is so much more than I could have ever imagined!! I’m so so happy and grateful for the support!

SO!! What now?

GETTING THE BAGS MADE

It will take about TWO MONTHS to get every bag made, and then they get to be shipped to my house where i will…ship them all out to YOU. Um. Yeah. Nearly 500 bags. in my house. to ship out. one by one. i feel like markiplier with his tasteful calendar years ago. except he had to sign fifty THOUSAND and i’m only packing 500. so. actually it’s nothing like that and i get to SUCK IT UP!!! and look at the calendar in question on my wall for emotional support....please be patient with me while i do this!!! this will take me probably another couple of months just to get every single one out there!! but it will be done!! one day i’ll probably pay like. a fulfillment center? to do this for me? i’m kinda new to this. if that wasn’t super obvious… and then, after that…

Some changes moving forward:

PRICE INCREASE

Boo sound effect, tomatos, i know. But i got such overwhelming support for this project that um…well, i have to pay taxes on it! Essentially this became my real life job in a very short amount of time! I have to make myself an LLC now?!? I’m incredibly grateful for the support, but this does mean I need to make sure I can actually afford to keep doing this. or else the IRS will fucking GET ME. Like seriously. It could get really messy really fast. I have to pay taxes all by myself now. And this means a slight price increase for future editions of the bag. The base price will increase from $40 to $50! Shipping will stay the same. This does not come without some slight upgrades, though!

BAG UPGRADES

The strap is going to be longer in future editions (by what measurement i’m not sure yet- i will do some experimenting and figure out an ideal length!) and I will also see if I can order straps separately so that any Pink and Purple bag owners who would like an even longer strap can buy an extra one without having to buy a new bag! The bag strap length is okay right now, but I got quite a few requests to make them even longer- so I will do so!!

The inside pocket will be slightly modified to be looser fabric instead of the super tight zipper pocket. Can’t fit much in there. It will hopefully still have a zipper, though! I’ll workshop this a bit before I do the next batch!

If anyone has any more suggestions for future batches of the bag, please do let me know! If it’s within my (and the manufacturer’s) power to do, I definitely want to try!!

NEXT BATCH?

The next batch will be YELLOW and BLUE!! Hash fans unite!! You got your poll win eventually!! After yellow and blue, I’m planning some funky ones! Black, and…well. something else!! i’ll come up with one to go with it!

The black ones are pretty fuckin cool, and I can’t wait to show you all! I have two ideas for Black bags that i simply cannot decide between so i’ll probably have to put it up for a vote next summer!!

Okay, that’s all for announcements today!! Thank you all so, so, SO much for the support, and thank you in advance for your patience!!

WHERE DOIN THIS MAN… WHEre makin this hapen :)

#funtime speaks #captchalogue card bag #homestuck

132 notes · View notes

thesirencult · 11 months ago

Text

YOU NEED PEOPLE LIKE ME / DARK PSYCHOLOGY

You need people like me. You need people like me so you can point your f*****’ fingers and say, “That’s the bad guy.” So what that make you? Good? You’re not good. You just know how to hide, how to lie.

(Tony Montana, Scarface)

Most people can not handle their darker side. They can not handle their ego and their deepest desires. Now, I'm not telling you to become like Tony Montana. He was consumed by his vices and they run the show for him. I'm telling you to do what you what to do and to stop lying to yourself and hiding from your true nature.

A couple of years ago, I met a girl who had an obsession with finding a wealthy man. She did not care about anything else other than the money. In her defense, she grew up in a poor family where, her dad beat her mom up and he even did that while her mom was pregnant with her.

That girl was studying finance. She took up Arabic and wanted to work for off shore companies where she could find a husband. She specifically told me she wanted her husband to drive a Porsche which has more prestige than a BMW and buy her a BMW cause the woman should be beneath her husband. Overall she was "micey" in character. If you didn't know her you would think she was shy and religious, but. you should know better guys, these people have more ego problems than the most outspoken, egomaniac extrovert.

So, she looked "weak" but had an agenda. She also was trying to give off the "trad wife" vibe but salivated as soon as a man breathed her direction and shamed any woman who showcased her seductiveness.

A few days ago, she messaged me. She wanted to grab a coffee with me as she would be in town. I was surprised when I saw her. In the "kindest" way I can put it, she looked like women who run on every single rally around and fight for justice (nothing wrong with taht, but if you're following me I bet you get what I'm trying to convey). A white girl with Bob Marley braids! Yup, there it is!

She told me she had given up Arabic and no longer wanted to work in a big shipping corporation because that supported big oil and their agenda. She then preached to me about equality and why the left is supreme. Now, I'm pretty straightforward so I asked her, how and why her views changed. She wanted to own 3 cars and be a stay at home mom! She looked outside the window of the coffee shop and saw my parked car.

"Do you see this car?"

I said "Yeah, I see it."

"Whoever drives this car is a right wing egomaniac who doesn't care about the environment and just wants to flaunt their money." (my car is a hybrid you guys!)

"Do you drive?"

"No, I can not afford a license and my family owns only one car. Also, I'm scared of driving. Also, did I tell you I'm running on the elections with the *left wing side*. Will you vote for me? If I make it I'll get 2k per month plus health care benefits."

"That's my car. I was going to ask you, do you want to take the train home or will you ride with me?" I just wanted this meeting to bo over, to tell you the truth.

She came with me.

Wanna know why? Here is my hypothesis (and it ties in with Tony Montana's words):

99% of people give up on their dreams by age 23. In order to make it easier for them and help them soothe the guilt this breeds, they begin to drift to the opposite "side" of the court. Pornstars turn to trad wives. Playboys turn to "faithful" husbands who preach the word of the Lord. Money and power hungry individuals take up boring jobs and blame the rich and the goverment for everything. Men who can not pick up women turn to red pill guys and so on and so forth.

Most people can not handle their darker side. They can not handle their ego and their deepest desires. Now, I'm not telling you to become like Tony Montana, he was consumed by his vices and that's who runs the show. Either you run the show or someone else or something (an addiction) runs it for you.

We see all that often with sex. Body counts, "I can not find a good man/woman" etc. People who can not get what they want hate those that have the GUTS to get it.

If my acquaintance's beliefs are that strong why did she enjoy the drive in the luxury SUV? Why did she then ask me when are we going out again and if I can bring "that" guy friend who runs a tech start up?

Because they are not her beliefs. They are just a cover up. A mask.

We've all seen how happy some people get when a dreamer fails.

So, go one. Fail. You''ll succeed at some point. You're better than those who sit on the sidelines running their mouth.

They would want to be at your shoes. They would want to run free on the court.

Own that. Own yourself and run after your goals and desires. Fuck them.

#level up journey #self education #seduction #self love #philosophy #psychology #dark psychology #48 laws of power #robert greene #dark femininity #dark feminine aesthetic #dark feminine energy #femme fatale #personal growth #source: thesirencult #source:thesirencult

147 notes · View notes

gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan · 6 months ago

Text

Portrayal of Betrayal

Author's Note: Y'all gave me Black Templar Brain wars >:|. So I made yet another Space marine oc. Give a shout if y'all wanna use him. Also, tag me so I can read and reblog your stuff if you do. This is a long chapter. over 2k.

Summary: Ramiel has a Bad Time, almost dies, and wakes up. Traitors are to die.

Warnings: Black Templar Shenanigans, major character death, abusive relationship, abuse of power, cannon typical violence, Black Templars TM , let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @kit-williams, @sleepyfan-blog,

Tagged Again: @sleepyfan-blog and @whorety-k

Ramiel, like many of his general of Primaris marines is highly honored, and more than a little nervous when he is informed of his assignment, he is to become a member of the Honorable Black Templar Chapter, as a proud son of Dorn, he and his battle brothers ask their Utramarine First Born Cousins what their Chapter brothers are like and listen as they are described as dutiful, loyal, proud, stubborn, and fierce warriors. One of the other Ultramarines also murmurs something about certain unsavory traits about them, and gets a glare from the first Ultramarine that had the other quiet down.

As he and the other Primaris Marines meet and settle in with their First-Born Battle Brothers of the Black Templars, at first, the elder brothers don't seem to know what to make of them, some are hostile, some are curious, and all of them are carefully watched and monitored. Ramiel has great pride that Cedric- a brother who he's been helped by, and worked with before, got chosen as an Apprentice to one of the most Important and Eldest of the Apothecary First Born Battle Brothers of the entire Black Templar legion.

Ramiel hopes that he will gain a mentor, and does his best to do his tasks, whether it is missions, or chores to help maintain their ships and other things. As months go by Ramiel’s hearts are heavily burdened as so many of his fellow Primaris Marines have fallen, in battle, due to missions that were... well, he's not one to argue against a person in authority over him. He's been beaten enough, and remembers the lessons that were given to him by the Mechanicum, and the Black Templar elder brothers are eager to maintain discipline and punish them, justly, for their wrongdoings and sins.

He's glad that he's able to get patched up by one of his fellow Primaris Apothecary brothers, at least some of the time, sometimes they are not allowed to help patch them up after a flogging or other sort of punishment, left to heal with their own regenerative powers, and rations are one of the longer-term methods of punishment they are given. So he's surprised, honored and a little hopeful and honestly, more than a little shocked, and he hopes that the God Emperor will forgive him, afraid, when one of the harsher, and much stricter Black Templar Chaplains has decided to take Ramiel on as an apprentice.

He's worried and nervous, he's not been trained as a Chaplain and he accepts the Mentorship, before nervously telling him that he's just a battle brother. Honorable Veteran Black Templar Chaplain Mephisteil Petras has chosen him in particular. The First-Born Space Marine informs him that as his mentor, he'd be teaching him how to do the tasks and duties of a Chaplain. Ramiel bows his head and accepts the honor and new duties to be assigned to him. Following after Chaplain Mephisteil two steps back and to the left as requested by his new mentor.

It's hard, learning the duties of a Chaplain, and one of the first duties that he's ordered to do is to help with the punishment of several Primaris Black Templars, to go over their sins and help them purge themselves of their shame with use of whip and words. Traitorously his lips tremble, and he's grateful that no one can see it, and he hides his flinch by heading over to grab the punishment whip. The words lodge hot, hard and heavy in his throat, which has become dry and it feels like his eyes are burning.

He has a couple of false starts before Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras snaps at him to "Stand up straight like a real Marine."

He snaps to attention and snaps a salute. "Yes Sir!"

"Now," The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras says, "Recite their sins and punishments abom- boy."

"Yes Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras," Ramiel says, thankful that his voice doesn't crack or croak. He takes in a deep breath and reads the three Primaris brothers the scroll that contained what they had done, and the punishments that they were going to be receiving and after that there is silence.

"Abmon- Boy! Get the whip." The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras demands of him.

He nods to his mentor, the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras and grabs the whip, "Have them count out the strokes of the whip."

"Yes sir," Ramiel replies as his throat seems to constrict and it feels like it's become harder and harder to breath.

He snaps the whip a couple of times, the crack and sound of it has them all flinching minutely, but not enough that The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras does not notice and snarls at them for it. Ramiel would also be getting a flogging after this for being so slow to obey his superior officer and mentor. Ramiel mentally apologizes to his fellow Primaris brothers as he starts to whip them, the words he's been taught to tell them as the whistling sound of the whip, the sound of their flesh, and their voices counting the whip marks.

Slowly, yet all at once he as to continue to whips them at the proper pace, to slow and he will get more time added to his flogging, to fast and he will hurt them more than he should, and his punishment for not properly doling out punishment will be worse. Slowly, and all at once he has finished whipping his fellow Primaris Marines. His nerves are screaming at him. He wants to apologize for harming them, yet he locks the words behind his teeth. The punishment he gets for that, and he only did it just the once when he was ordered to Punish Cedric had been... well...

He was blessed with the regenerative powers of a Primaris Marine, which is significantly faster and he's much hardier than a First Born, much to the scowl he got from his mentor The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras. He can't even try to go find them later to apologize, for his mentor The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras has eyes on him at all times, and the punishment he got for trying to apologize after the fact, and trying to do so out of sight and eyes (not that it worked) of their First-Born brothers had also been a test of his body's healing capabilities.

Ramiel hoped that, with time, and showing his dutiful, diligence and obedience, that hopefully The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras and the other Chaplains, and other First Born Space Marines of the Black Templar Chapter would slowly start to trust them. He has seen how warm, affectionate and caring they can be towards their fellow first born space marines. But there must be something wrong with him, and his fellow Primaris Marines that they are treated so coldly and harshly. But he holds out hope that someday, somehow, some way, they will be able to have that easy trust and affection, or barring that, be good enough that they were no longer given such harsh, and swift punishments for even the smallest of infractions.

Infractions that usually their First-Born brothers do not get punishments for, or if they do, not as harshly as the Primaris Marines do. Perhaps, it is because they are so much younger and new than their elder brothers? That they want to instill good habits and proper behaviors? Oh, he so dearly hopes that's the case. His mentor The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, among a larger number of First-Born Space Marines have started to get more agitated recently over the years. He's noticed that, and while he's sent a message or two to his fellow Primaris Marines, has no idea how to bring it up or address it with The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, without offending or upsetting the other sooner.

He gets a vox call from The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, "Sir? Apprentice Chaplain Ramiel speaking."

"Abomin- Boy, come to me, I need to speak with you about something," The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras snarls at him.

He flinches, "yes sir, I'm headed to your coordinates."

Ramiel wonders what has put his elder brother and mentor into such a foul mood, and dreads what the potential answer could be. Even as he braces himself for likely more rounds of justified punishment for infractions, he did not know he had done until The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras informs him of them. He sends a message to Cedric, who's awake and on the same ship as him. Just as a warning about the mood that The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras is in.

He is sure and swift in his movements as he heads towards where The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras and several the more... irascible and mistrusting of the first-born black Templars are.

"I have arrived, The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras," He says snapping a salute.

"Abomination," The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras and his hearts sink to his chest and his throat feels like its closing, "For the crime of existence I, The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, have decided that you shall cease living."

"Bu- Mentor, H-Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras," He stutters out moving backwards a little, "I-I'm a loyal Black Templar of the Chapter... I'm not an abom-"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off as he dodge the blow he recieved from The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, who charged him. As a Primaris Marine, they are fast, stronger, and have a higher mental processing speed. He continues to dodge and weave, not attacking back as more of the First-born Space Marines go after him. He knows that they will hit him, and they do, he is only one and they are half a dozen strong.

"Foul Abomination, thy existance will be purged and our chapter restored!" The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras roars at him.

Ramiel continues to dodge and tries to speak with him- with the other First Born Black Templar Battle brothers that are slowly trying to encircle and cut off his mode of retreat. They and The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras are starting to get past his guard and one of the systems pings a warning and sends a distress signal off to the nearest Apothecaries that he was wounded. He was starting to get far more badly wounded.

"What did I do wrong mentor? I have only ever tried to heed your words, Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, and be a good, obedient mentee," He hears a familiar voice cry out and he turns to see Cedric staring at him and the group of First-Born Marines in shock, a medic's kit in hand.

Ramiel notices The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, his mentor swerve to try and strike out at Cedric. With a burst of speed he runs and blocks the blow- unfortunately where it lands, the chainsaw sword strikes him a lethal blow as Cedric desperately grabs him Ramiel manages to murmur something to Cedric as blood spills from his lips.

"I'm sorry, sir, whatever it was that I did to deserve this, please don't take it out on my brothers." He apologizes as blood bubbles from his lips. It feels nice, paradoxically to be in the arms of one his brothers, it’s been so long since he’d been held, even if Cedric is trying to keep him upright.

He closes his eyes, as his vision grows dark, and feels blood flowing rapidly out of his wounds. He wakes up with a pained gasp and blinks. Treacherous tears are blinding his eyes as he blinks rapidly. He is alive. Ramiel, somehow, survived what had felt like a killing blow. He jolts as he tries to get up to find Cedric or The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, and the other First-Born Marines to Attack him, upon his command, of course. He pulls of his helmet and buries his face in his hands as he shakes and allows himself to feel, just for a moment or two before he scrubs is face clean of salted water and puts on his helmet as he gingerly gets up.

He looks around, a frown forming on his face, he doesn't recognize the flora and fauna of this place. As he looks up to the night sky, the stars aren't something he recognizes either with jolt of unease. He has many questions that he has no answers for. And he will need to find a way back to... back to his brothers. He ignores the way that had his body flinching and curling in on himself. Coward. He hisses at himself, he's an apprentice chaplain, honored to have been chosen by The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras.

He needs to find out where he is and how he got here and how to get back to The Sigismund. He finds a stream of fresh water, that is flowing fast enough, and after a cautious test, is clean enough to drink from and he does so gladly. The water is bitingly cold, which helps further ground him in the here and now as he ruthlessly squashes the thoughts and questions that run amok in his mind. He puts his helmet back on and continues to wander the forest, which is lovely, and filled with bird song and the rustling leaves of the trees that sway in the wind.

One of the things that Ramiel doesn't know, is that his death at the hands of the First-Born Black Templars had started the overt schism within the Black Templars, between the ones who viewed the Black Templars as Abominations to be purged, and the first born (who found them to be useful) and the Primarus Marines who didn't want to die and were not abominations against His Imperial Majesty. They had been created upon the orders of Him on Terra, created and raised on Mars for the majority of their training before The Imperial Regent in all his wisdom had decided to have them sent out to reinforce the various chapters of the Space Marine Chapters.

But that is something he doesn't know yet, simply that his mentor, The Honorable Veteran Chaplain Mephisteil Petras, had thought him something to kill. He notices movement and hides in the shadow of a massive tree when he spots three or four base line human children running around and playing in a camp site, with the adults talking to one another amiably as the kids played nearby. They looked so happy, which both soothed and hurt something inside Ramiel that he couldn't understand for some reason as he watched them, entranced.

Keeping very still and shrinking back further when he noticed some of the adults glancing his way. He doesn't think they saw him, otherwise they likely would call back the children and leave the area. One of the children notices something and shrieks with emotion, and runs towards- oh no. Oh child no! He spots a couple of Chaos Marines and growls softly. The child is not at fault for not realize that wasn't an Angel of the God Emperor, but a Scummy traitor.

He pulls his blade shifts his body and, despite his wounds Charges towards the Chaos Marines with a bellow, getting in-between the child and the Chaos Marines who swear and pull back as he growls at the Chaos marines, “Scum and Filth to be purged. You Heretics shall die by my hand! Child- run back to your parents and leave this place.”

#this is the fault of people who have been giving me Black Templar OC brain warms >:\#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #warhammer #adeptus astartes #black templar #black templar oc #oc: Ramiel #major character death #abuse of power #abusive relationship #cannon typical violence

43 notes · View notes

callsign-relic · 24 days ago

Note

if/when i finish the soundwave fic i'll definitely send the link over :]]!!!

my motivation is all over the place but ONE DAY... ONE DAY ILL FINISH IT. i need it to exist... i think i sent a couple asks abt the concept Months ago before i had a sign off lolol. the idea of soundwaves visor as a soundproofed one way mirror will haunt me forever

... its also gonna take me slightly longer because now im thinking of brainstorms rogue shrinking machine (gun). in order to combat the fics that grow the reader/human to their size, the human should get Smaller. humans are canonically about knee height so. shrink gun them to a better size that can fit behind brainstorms mask when he has to hide that he accidentally shrunk the ships resident human ahaha i mean what?

itd also be really good as a series for that sweet bot on bot content... hrhhrhgh. too many ideas.

- init

Eeeee thank you!!!

GASSPP YOUVE SENT ASKS BEFORE WITHOUT SIGNING OFF??? Omg that’s the worst part about asking on anon /lh I can never tell if the same person is sending the ask or not HAHA

AARRRHRGRRH YESSS this is such a great idea omg. As a resident canon mtmte height hater /j humans should be smaller than knee height to the bots actually and this would fix it.

Accidentally went off on this ask so have a little drabble under the cut HAHA

I can just imagine the human being like “so I’m really gonna be as big as the rest of you??” And Brainstorm like “well perhaps not Fortress Maximus-big, but Rodimus-big! …uh, Rung-big. Taller than a minibot, definitely!”

Then he blasts the ray and rather than get bigger… Brainstorm scans the room, wondering where the human went, just to hear a faint squeaking at his pedes. He looks down to see a speck, and crouches down to see finally see the human.

Oh, bringing you back to normal wouldn’t be a problem, don’t worry! There, uh, wasn’t really an “undo” button on the ray… but— but he’s certain he can just reverse engineer it and get you back to back to normal height and then some!

Only thing is, it would definitely take a while… and you don’t really want to be see like this, don’t you? Hm? Ah, right, can’t very well hear you like this… it would be fine! He’ll keep you somewhere safe until he had the chance to return to his lab and fix the ray. Just allow him to…..

Tealish blue plating obscures your vision, and suddenly, you’re not-so-delicately pinched between two massive fingertips. You flail in his grasp, only to freeze when he shows you exactly where he meant. The scientist clicks his mask off, and places you dead center on the metal. Then, you’re launched forwards again towards his mouth— just to be obscured in darkness and smushed against something weirdly soft.

You were hidden behind his mask, pressed up against his lips.

#relic answers

17 notes · View notes

ghostofskywalker · 1 year ago

Text

Something to Cuddle With

Tech/Fem!Reader

Words: 1,635

Summary: Tech doesn’t quite understand why you have so many plush creatures on your bunk, but when he can’t sleep one night he starts to get why you like to collect them.

flower and meaning: sunflower || adoration, admiration, positivity, lasting happiness

Note: it's implied in the story that the plushies the reader has are of an underwater animal. i wrote this imagining a lobster (which is why there's one on the banner), but the description is very vague so people can mentally add whatever they want :)

this is my may work for the yearofcreation2023! when i think of “lasting happiness,” i feel like stuffed animals are definitely on that list, they’re just little guys!

Year of Flowers Masterlist • Clone Troopers Masterlist

The Marauder was quiet when Tech opened his eyes, his datapad ringing slightly as he realized it was time for him to get up and steer the ship for a little while. During trips like this where hyperspace travel took up most of their time, it was common that the team rotated who was watching the ship and have someone there to make sure that everything was running smoothly. He looked over to make sure that everyone else was still sleeping, glad that no one else on the ship had stirred at the noise of his alarm.

As he got ready to leave, he noticed something on the ground across from him, and upon closer inspection, he realized it was a belonging of yours. Like Wrecker, you had what he could only describe as soft toys that were permanent residents of your bunk. But unlike Wrecker, who only had one Lula since he was a cadet, you had several of these things, and each one looked to be of the same creature, just slightly different in size, color, and construction. Before he left the area, he picked up the plush creature from the floor and placed it back on your bed next to the others like it, and he was struck with a feeling of small joy when he realized how soft it was. You looked peaceful as you slept, one of the other creatures resting in your hand, and Tech smiled slightly as he took in the sight.

When he set foot in the cockpit, Echo turned to look at him. “Is everything okay in there?” he asked. “You took longer than you usually do to get out here.”

“No, everything is fine,” Tech responded, sitting down in the seat that his brother had just vacated. “A plush of Y/N’s had just fallen to the ground, and I picked it up for her.”

Echo nodded. “That was nice of you, I was worried you had woken someone up,”

Tech just nodded, and a moment of silence settled over them. Right as Echo turned to leave (to no doubt try and catch a few hours of sleep himself), Tech spoke again. “Do you know why she has many of the same type of item?” he asked. “I understand why Wrecker has Lula, but it seems odd to have more than one.”

Echo took a moment to consider his brother’s question before responding. “I think she mentioned that she likes to collect them,” he said. “I know whenever we stop to refuel she likes to look at the markets to see if anyone sells what she’s looking for.”

“But why?”

“She had a different upbringing than us, I suppose it was something that she was accustomed to doing before she joined the GAR, and even now, when so much has changed about the galaxy, it’s something that she can still do.”

Tech nodded. He had never considered your upbringing before, only knowing you as the medic that had been assigned to the team just a few months before the end of the war and Order 66, and was now a permanent resident of the ship as they navigated the changes and dangers all around them.

“I also think she has as many as she does because of Omega,” Echo said, and Tech cocked his head to the side in confusion. “You know how territorial Wrecker is with Lula, and I think Omega doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness in giving it to her. So the fact that Y/N has quite a few of those plush creatures on her bed means that if she has a bad dream, she can just borrow one of those instead of hoping that Wrecker is awake and will let her hug Lula. I heard her say something to Omega about snuggling any one of the toys she wants at any time and not having to ask.”

After Tech expressed his understanding and Echo left to get some sleep, he found himself thinking about you and your plush toys. He had never considered how you might have been collecting them (and keeping them easily accessible) for Omega, and it warmed his heart. Tech had never been able to really put a finger on the way he felt about you, but this only added to the suspicions that what felt was actually romantic in nature. Now, if only he could pluck up the courage to say something to you about it.

***

It wasn’t even his day to watch over the ship at night, and yet Tech was still awake. For some reason he had simply not been able to fall asleep. He always had trouble quieting his mind when it was time to retire for the evening, but on some nights (like this one), nothing he tried to do worked, and he was left wide awake even after the lights went out.

The Marauder wasn’t that big of a ship, and he found himself wandering from the bunks to the cockpit, where you were sitting. He watched as the blue streaks of hyperspace lit up his surroundings, and you turned around to smile at him when you realized you weren’t alone. “Couldn’t sleep?” you asked, and he just nodded. “Want to sit out here with me? Sometimes the lull of hyperspace makes me sleepy.”

“I know what you mean,” he responded as he took a seat next to you. “But sometimes I just find that I cannot fall asleep, no matter what I do.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I can get that way too sometimes, and I don’t like the feeling.”

“Is that why you purchase those stuffed creatures?” Tech asked. He knew what Echo said about it, but he still wanted to get the answer from you rather than just listen to hearsay and assumptions.

You shook your head, a small smile spreading over your face. “Not necessarily, even though they do help me fall asleep sometimes.”

“Then why do you have so many of them? Especially all of the same thing.”

“At first, it was just something I bought because I enjoyed it,” you said. “Every once in a while I would take my GAR paycheck and use it to buy something indulgent for myself. Those creatures can be found all over, but I would see them in the lakes by my childhood home, and I fell in love with them. And then the galaxy changed, so now I just look at markets whenever we have the time. It helps me relax sometimes, after long days.”

Tech nodded. “Wrecker has Lula for the same reason.”

War never gets easier,” you responded. “But we just grow blind to it, and sometimes I do need a little extra help sleeping at night.”

“If it actually helps, maybe I should consider something like it for myself.”

“You should,” you said, the smile on your face growing. “I have plans right now to look for one to give Omega the next time we stop somewhere. You should come with me to the market, there’s usually a few people selling handmade toys. You can pick one out yourself.”

“I thought Omega had something already,” Tech said.

You shook your head. “She occasionally borrows Lula from Wrecker or takes one of the plush animals from my bed if she has a bad dream, but she doesn’t yet have one that’s all for her. I’ve told her she can pick one from my collection to keep, but she’s never taken me up on it.”

“I don’t think she wants to feel like she’s taking from you,” he responded.

“I agree,” you said, nodding. “That’s why I want to get her one of her own. This way if she has a nightmare or can’t sleep, she doesn’t have to trek all the way from her little room to where our bunks are.”

The two of you continued to talk to you for the next few hours, up until Echo stepped into the cockpit and told both of you to try and get some rest. However, when you reached your bunks (which were right across from each other), you were met with an interesting sight.

Omega was fast asleep and clutching one of your larger plush creatures, but she was laying on Tech’s bunk. There was no way he could have gotten into bed without waking her, and the look on her face was incredibly peaceful, something he didn’t want to disturb unless he absolutely had to.

Thankfully, you seemed to have an idea about the situation. “Don’t worry about it, you can sleep in my bunk for the night.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he whispered, voice catching slightly on his words.

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, it seems your bunk has been borrowed, and you won’t be getting it back until morning.”

There was something in your kind words that finally led Tech to accept your proposal (or maybe it was just the fact that he felt differently towards you than he did the rest of his team), and he climbed into bed after you did.

When you were finally settled, there was a little room between your head and his, and he instantly decided that your bunk was much more comfortable than his. It was probably a completely false observation, but he couldn’t help the way his eyes drooped and the feeling of sleepiness finally began to overtake him. He almost didn’t notice the way you snuggled up right next to him, or the way that you placed a particularly soft plush in his grip.

Maybe it was just the feeling of someone beside him that he needed to finally fall asleep, or the feeling of cuddling up to something soft and warm, but whatever it was, he never wanted it to change.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

#tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech x you #tbb tech x female reader #tech x reader #tech x you #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch fanfiction

141 notes · View notes

terapsina · 1 year ago

Note

Kathryn Janeway/Chakotay. Post-Voyager, return home. (If you’ve seen Prodigy pre-Prodigy before Chakotay receives his commission as Captain. If you’re up to it, lightly touching on the Chakotay and Seven of it all? Seven might have left for the Rangers at this point. It’s alright if that’s too much of a prompt!)

(okay, this will take place closer to Post-Voyager era than Pre-Prodigy era but does take place inside that frame of time. Also, I couldn't find any specific dates about when exactly Seven joined the Rangers so let's just assume here that it happened pretty soon after they returned home (for various reasons but mostly because I think Seven would have grown restless pretty quickly and also because I just can't imagine she and Chakotay lasted very long at all)).

ao3

Chakotay and Kathryn were fine.

Completely fine. In comparison to the seven years aboard Voyager where they stayed at the constant edge of destruction, with the threat of losing all the souls aboard the ship that they were responsible for constantly biting at their heels, they were more than fine now.

They met for weekly dinners. They no longer argued because of the stress of their positions; because all they'd sacrificed of themselves had hollowed them out into a Captain and a First Officer and very little else. The frost that had grown in the cracks of their friendship had thawed during this past year home. They were sharing jokes again and enjoyed perfectly pleasant conversations in each other's company.

They discussed how their weeks had gone; and how Kathryn and him were adjusting to being home again. They talked about their sisters and shared whatever news they'd heard from the crew lately. Talked about the latest antics of Kathryn's two dogs - both the grand-pups of the Irish Setter she'd left behind on Earth when she'd been ordered to capture Chakotay an eternity ago. Mollie herself had lived only two months past the Voyager's return, Chakotay's heart still twinged remembering the way Kathryn had tried to keep up a strong face when she'd told him about the dog's passing.

They were fine. Really, they were better than they'd been in a really long time now.

Chakotay should have been happy about it, - and admittedly there was the relief that he hadn't lost Kathryn entirely. Their return to the Alpha Quadrant had given him his best friend back and...

...and Chakotay was miserable.

"You remember I told you how the voice reader for the replicator broke last week and I had to put it on manual? Well, Faba figured out this morning how to make the cursed thing spit out the last meal programmed in there, when I got home from Starfleet Command the entire kitchen floor was covered in dog food. You can't imagine the guilty looks on her and Capulus when they saw me." Kathryn's eyes danced with amusement as she took a sip of wine from her glass.

Chakotay's own lips pulled up at the corners, the initial moment entirely genuine because when Kathryn Janeway smiled the entire room brightened.

But the smile fell away a moment too quickly and ever observant, Kathryn noticed. "I'm sorry, Chakotay, I'm hogging the conversation this evening. You seem to have something on your mind?"

"No," he said, forcing forward another smile, hoping this one would better disguise his melancholy mood. "It's simply been a long week, I'm just tired, I think."

He saw Kathryn's eyes go to the timepiece hanging on the wall behind him and cursed himself for the chosen excuse. He didn't intend to make her think he was too tired for her company.

"It is getting late, I suppose I'll see you next week. Same time? Or do you have plans?" At the beginning of their post-return dinners, Chakotay had tried to read some kind of tightness in Kathryn's voice when she asked about his plans. Selfishly hoping for a sign that their implied existence might bother her, that there still existed traces of the feelings that years ago he'd been certain were there. But there was never anything except polite curiosity.

He was starting to suspect that whatever potential had been there had been destroyed by his stupidity and the very badly timed mid-life crisis that had tripped him just before the finish line.

"No plans," he told her and did his very best not to inquire after her own. He knew his question would be full of the unvoiced things lacking in hers.

"Speaking of, have you heard from Seven recently? She's been hard to get a hold of since she joined the Fenris Rangers."

"No," he said, avoiding Kathryn's eyes as he always did whenever she mentioned Seven of Nine now. He wished she'd stop. Or that she'd finally address the splinter he'd seen her ignoring for eleven months now. When Chakotay had told her that he and Seven had parted ways barely weeks after landing on Earth, she'd inquired if he was okay and revealed not a hint of emotion more. Not anger. Not relief. Not disappointment. Nothing. He might as well have been Harry Kim telling her how he'd broken up with one of the Delaney twins again. "But B'Elanna mentioned receiving a subspace message from her a few weeks ago so I wouldn't send out any alarms yet."

"Good." Kathryn smiled again, swallowing another deeper mouthful of the wine Chakotay had brought over earlier, and finishing the glass.

She wasn't as careful as usual though - being out of uniform and off the deck of the Voyager had made her freer in a number of tiny ways - and his eyes trailed a tiny spill of red as it escaped the corner of Kathryn's mouth and slid over her chin before gliding slowly down her neck.

Heat sliced clean through his lower stomach as he hastily averted his eyes, this time to hide the hunger that had no doubt visibly flashed across his face. Chakotay sent a silent thank you to the spirits of his ancestors for her eyes having remained closed while she enjoyed the last sip.

Maybe he really should start getting ready to leave.

Candlelight, wine, and Kathryn were not a combination that inspired all that much sanity in Chakotay. He'd thought he'd developed at least a partial immunity in the later years of their journey, as that brightly burning hope he'd cradled in his heart had eventually begun to be smothered by the innumerable trials and tribulations; by the thousand small cuts and steadily growing walls.

Of course, he'd pretty much found out exactly how wrong he was on that point the first time he'd seen her after the former members of the Maquis had received their official pardons from the Federation. When the entire crew had shown up to celebrate and he'd looked across the ballroom someone - probably Paris - had reserved for the event, when for the first time in years had seen Kathryn instead of Captain Janeway.

She'd been wearing a dark red dress that had hugged her front nearly like a second skin and let only air touch half her back. The dress had been tasteful and elegant of course, as anything Kathryn wore always was but Chakotay had known he was fucked the moment his eyes had landed on her. The feeling was yet to leave.

"Next week, then." He confirmed.

"Goodnight, Chakotay," Kathryn said and walked around the dinner table to give him a brief hug and a kiss on his cheek. His eyes slid closed at the singing sensation of her lips against his skin.

Right, that. If ever someone tried to convince him this woman didn't have a cruel bone in her body he might just have to point and laugh. Hysterically.

He opened his mouth to return the goodnight when something that had been steadily straining and stretching for months and months finally snapped.

"Are you ever going to forgive me, Kathryn?" he asked, exhaustion heavy in his voice and eyes still closed. He wasn't sure he could bear seeing her face if he was really starting this conversation.

"What?"

"I promised something to you once, and broke it just before it would have finally been time to fulfill it."

"You never promised me anything." And finally, he heard the tightness in Kathryn's voice he'd been looking for.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, letting her see all the things he'd shielded from her in the Delta Quadrant when showing them would have left his Captain bleeding.

"I did and you know I did, Kathryn. Never aloud because it would have hurt you to hear it. But we both knew."

And finally, finally, anger flashed like lightning in Kathryn's eyes.

"Why did it have to be Seven, Chakotay?"

"I don't know." And he didn't know. He'd asked himself that question a hundred times and never found a good answer. Not one that put him in any kind of good light anyway.

Male ego. Because a part of him had known that it would be the one way he'd actually be able to hurt Kathryn the way she'd been hurting him for years by then. Because he thought he couldn't hurt Kathryn at all and had to finally prove it to himself somehow. Because Seven had shown interest, and he'd been so very tired, and it could have been anyone at all. Because he'd been losing hope.

He didn't know.

"We were supposed to return to Earth together. You were supposed to be right beside me. It was supposed to--"

"I know. I'm sorry, Kathryn," Chakotay whispered and dared to wipe an angry tear from her face.

"And it's not like I had any right to feel--"

He smiled thinly. "And when I found you on Quarra I had no right to want to cave in Jaffen's face. Or that Irish hologram's. Or Q's."

And oh, how Chakotay had wanted to.

"I--" she looked startled like she hadn't suspected any of that. There was something nearly impressive about that, the crew certainly seemed to have steered clear of Chakotay for a solid week after every event where their captain had gotten courted by one alien or another.

Well, steered clear by everyone except Paris and Tuvok. And B'Elanna. But Paris had long since proven himself to be just a bit suicidal to a degree that had eventually earned him Chakotay's respect. And Tuvok was... well, Tuvok.

And B'Elanna just didn't count.

"I had no right. You had no right. But it hurt me, and then I hurt you. And I need to know if you're going to forgive me. Because it still hurts, Kathryn." He cupped the side of her face, barely letting his fingers graze her skin. "You're my best friend. And my partner for eight years now. And you're always going to be the love of my life. I will accept whatever answer you give me, even if you tell me that there's a part of you that's going to hate me forever. But please, Kathryn, I need to know."

Finished, Chakotay fell silent.

Kathryn stared at him with angry, anguished eyes. Then she closed them and Chakotay had to force himself not to shudder.

He could take whatever blow she threw. He'd survive it. Not entirely whole, maybe, but he would survive.

"There is an ancient legend among my people," she said, nearly entirely under her breath but Chakotay still felt the universe come to a stop; could feel the Earth itself halt in its spin. "It is about a Lonely Sea Captain who had lost her way in a storm, and to bring her people home she made a deal with the gods. She locked her heart in a wooden chest and promised them she would not open it until they reached shore. But there was a Brave Warrior aboard her ship too, who worried that without any heart at all the Lonely Sea Captain would be lost - and he was right, she would have been - so he gave her his heart to carry while her own was locked away. She wasn't always kind to that gifted heart, wasn't always careful with it, - and sometimes, sometimes she was afraid she'd lost it - but it gave her strength, and it gave her hope, and it brought her home."

"Is there really an ancient legend?" he whispered, barely daring to breathe. Caught in her gaze like a fly in a spider-silk web.

"No." Another tear began to slide down Kathryn's cheek. "But that made it easier to say."

Chakotay leaned forward and kissed that precious pearl of salt from her cheek.

"The Captain never lost her Warrior's heart," he assured her softly and waited patiently with his lips pressed into her cheek until she moved her head and kissed him.

---

(fun fact: Capulus is Latin for Coffee and Faba is Latin for Bean).

#janeway x chakotay #chakotay x janeway #kathryn janeway #chakotay #star trek #voyager #voyager fic #star trek fic #fanfic #otp: the captain and the warrior #isagrimorie #prompts

63 notes · View notes

putschki1969 · 1 month ago

Note

Hello Sarah, I hope you are doing well and getting ready for the upcoming events. I'm currently in the process of joining the FC of Keiko and Wakana following your tutorials (Thank you very, very much 🙏), but I have run into some issues, and I have some questions. For Keiko's FC, during the Lawson ticket registration, despite using VPN and placing it in the trusted sites, I don't receive any email confirmation whatsoever in my inbox in order to continue. I tried 2 different mails without any results as it keeps sending me back to input email password again. Does it require a Japanese only mail? Has anyone come across this issue? With Wakana's FC, things seem more straightforward. However, with Bitfan, can you use your personal address since it looks so foreign friendly, or is the proxy from tenso the way to go? Apologies if this has been answered in the past. Thank you for your time, and I look forward to your reply.

Hi there!

Still recovering from yesterday but yeah, I am good and more than ready for the weekend. Looking forward to all the upcoming events. I have quite a few trips planned for the winter months so it's gonna be an exciting time. Can't believe I'll be seeing my girls on so many different occasions. I feel blessed😊

As for your questions, let me take a look and see what I can do...

First of all, for anyone who is curious, these are my two tutorials for Keiko's and Wakana's fan club〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→

Keiko: Meat & Chocolate

Wakana: Botanical Land

As stated in my tutorial for Keiko's fan club registration, a VPN service is actually not necessary. I initially believed you'd need one but I later tried it without a Japanese ID and it still worked out fine. So you better just do it without a VPN.

The way you describe the issue, it sounds like you are stuck at step 2.2./2.3. of my tutorial. During the mail/pw verification process, you have to enter an e-mail address and a suitable password. Please note that they have changed some of the password requirements since I've written the tutorial. It's now 8-16 characters with a combination of 3 or more of the following: uppercase letters, lowercase letters, numbers, and symbols. Please make sure that your password meets the criteria!

As for your e-mail address, there are absolutely no rules regarding the type of e-mail address, at least not as far as I know. You definitely don't need anything Japan-specific. Personally, I used my "[email protected]" address so if that worked fine, I'm sure that others would work just as well. No idea which e-mail service you are using but maybe try something very common like Gmail?

Maybe the verification mail is in your spam folder? Please be sure to check it. Also try to change your e-mail setting so you will always be able to receive mails with the following domains: 「l-tike.com」、「lawsonticket.jp」、「ent.lawson.co.jp」

I've not heard of anyone coming across this issue and I honestly don't know what other advice I could give except the things above. Usually, it shouldn't be an issue to receive the verification e-mail.

Regarding Bitfan, yes, it's quite foreigner friendly. I used to have my Austrian address in the settings. It worked perfectly fine. However, I later changed it to my Tenso address in case I'd ever have to receive a package via Bitfan. I don't think that has ever happened though. Even when Wakana is doing giveaways during her Bitfan broadcasts, the prizes are always shipped by the fan club (which should already have your Tenso address on file).

Please note that aside from Bitfan, you will also need a SKIYAKI account to get tickets for most of Wakana's big events. At first glance, the service is also very foreigner friendly but it seems like they made some changes to the registration process during the pandemic. The registration requires a verification via SMS. Years ago, I was able to sign up using my Austrian mobile phone number. I received the SMS and everything was fine. Unfortunately, the SMS verification no longer works properly for certain overseas numbers. I know of at least two fellow Kala-fans who have not been able to receive the text message which is required for the registration. A device change also requires an SMS verification so I've not been able to download the dedicated ticket app on my latest phone (still using my super old iPhone whenever I need show my digital ticket at the venue). Having said all that, I'd still encourage you to try it. Maybe your location/phone number is not affected and you'll have no issue receiving the SMS.

Update: @hkrwa just replied with a useful tip.

You can use this data-only SIM to receive SMS via a Japanese number. It has roaming function so you should be able to receive SMS in most countries in the world. https://www.jpsimshop.com/view/item/000000000109?category_page_id=ct71

Sorry for not being more helpful. I hope you can figure it all out!

#kalafina #reply #wakana #keiko #tutorial #肉とチョコレート #meat and chocolate #niku to chocolate #Keiko Official Fan Club #Botanical Land

9 notes · View notes

veryace-ficrecs · 9 months ago

Text

Valentines Day Fic Recs

Happy valentines day! this list will be fics focused around or on valentines day! Enjoy!

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

One Piece

waiting by tinyjet7 - Rated G

zoro watches sanji hand out treats to everyone but him.

Ship to Sea, Lock to Key by 8ball - Rated G

“I want to buy the cook a restaurant.”

Ted Lasso

Take My Whole Life Too by ItsClydeBitches - Rated G

Ted Lasso was the kind of man who taught NSYNC choreography for a going away party and bent his players into impossible positions just to say “Hi, Boss!” in the morning. He’d organized fearsome bets over darts, baked heavenly biscuits on the regular, and had requested at least two boxes from Nate Shelley’s niece, one of which still sat on a shelf in his office, despite the betrayal. Ted was also a passionate believer in what he referred to as “rom-communism,” all the trappings included. In retrospect, Trent should have known he’d go all out for Valentine’s Day.

9-1-1

Take Another Little Pizza My Heart by Phreakycat - Rated T

In which Buck helps Christopher with his Valentines for school, and discovers some things about himself. OR Buck is oblivious, but Eddie loves him anyway.

be my valentine by coupe_de_foudre - Rated G

“What sort of stupid joke is this, Buck?” Buck gapes, holding his hands up in mock-surrender. “Hey, I didn’t do this! I was driving.” (or Christopher gets sick of his dad and Buck being oblivious idiots and decides to help them out)

Stranger Things

Be My Valentine? by Sharpbutsoft (BuckysButt) - Rated T

“Aren’t you sick of me, yet?” Eddie asks, joint dangling precariously between two fingers. He’s stretched out on the floor of his bedroom. It’s this ritual he and Steve have been sharing for months now. Light some incense, order pizza, share a joint or three and give voice to the half-formed thoughts swirling round their heads. Eddie’s been balancing on the precipice of this conversation for longer than he’d care to admit. Exposing himself, pushing a boundary he knows better than to break. This thing with Steve, this delicate relationship, if you could even call it that. It still feels new, fresh. Fragile. And Eddie’s not known for handling these things with care. Smash first, ask questions later.

Cupid's One-Shot by DeadEyedGemini - Rated T

When Will Byers calls him up on a Saturday afternoon to invite him to come and play a surprise One-Shot at Gareth's house on Valentine's Day he doesn't really have a reason to say no, it's not like has a date or anything better to do. Imagine his surprise when he showed up to find that not only is Robin Buckley there to play but so is his long-time crush and friend, Steve Harrington. Soon it becomes apparent that everyone seems to be in on some secret that Eddie isn't aware of, but also that this one-shot might have an alternative motive than just being something to do on a Tuesday night.

cherry cordial by ShowMeAHero - Rated E

He’s staring down hard at his phone, scrolling aimlessly through Facebook without reading anything, when someone bumps into him. Whoever it is grabs the pole, their hands brushing against each other’s. Right in his ear, the guy says, “Fucking shit, you’re hot.” Eddie’s head jerks up, startled, and he meets the bright blue eyes of a man at least eight inches taller than him. The guy’s got a pink knit cap tugged down over his head and a spill of curls falling down from it, his glasses fogging up in the warmth of the train car. “What?” Eddie demands.

Supernatural

(un)attached by one_more_offbeat_anthem - Rated G

Three months after Chuck's defeat, Dean is spending his Valentine's Day eating spaghetti and making cards with Jack while his brother goes on a post-hunt vacation. And then Jack asks if he can make a card for Cas.

Bee my Valentine? by your_average_fangirl256 - Rated G

Valentine's Day Fluff.

Dean builds Cas a garden..and Cas proposes in it. There are Pie and Bees too.

Teen Wolf

Candy-Coated Roses by simplyambyy - Rated G

Holidays at work are always a festive time and Valentine’s Day is no exception. The entire building is covered in hearts and flowers while the front desk of every floor has a dish of Hershey’s kisses wrapped in red, pink, and silver foil. Stiles exits the elevator and makes his way towards his cubicle, smiling and murmuring greetings to his favorite co-workers on his way. For some reason, the twenty-six-year-old was in a pretty good mood and it might have to do with the cherry-flavored lollipop he knew was waiting for him at his cubicle. What Stiles isn’t expecting is the pile of roses and lollipops covering his desk space.

Craigslist Valentine by Triangulum - Rated E

The Craigslist ad had been because Peter had been wonderfully, spectacularly drunk. Reservations for the Palm are hard to get, even for someone like Peter, and he's had his name down for eight months. He refuses to waste it. If he hadn't been trashed on expensive pinot noir, he would have considered maybe inviting his best friend, Chris, or taking out a niece or nephew. But no, he'd been three sheets to the wind and decided that he needed to share his Valentine's Day dinner reservations with a random stranger. Or Peter refuses to let good dinner reservations go to waste just because his (ex)girlfriend cheated on him. He drunkenly makes a Craigslist ad to find a date, and Stiles answers.

Labyrinth (1986)

Valentine Revisions by Rayac - Rated M

As part of a cathartic exercise, Sarah is dared to prepare some unusual Valentines for the men of her past. She never planned on the Goblin King actually receiving his or that he would meet her revised expectations. But does he ever.

Star Wars

no place like home by ShowMeAHero - Rated G

“Anything else?” she asks, ringing up his coffees. The ding, ding-ding, ding, ding of the register’s buttons wakes Han up a little bit more. “Yeah,” he says, “I’ll have a pack of, uhh… Whatever’s cheapest.” He taps his blunt nails on the vinyl countertop. “And do you have those little, like— Those little cards kids give each other?” “Like, the little folding ones?” she asks him. “You realize that today is—” “Yeah, I’m aware."

Merlin

From the Heart by supercalvin - Rated G

In which Arthur gives Merlin gifts. “No.” Morgana shook her head, “No, see you don’t understand.” Morgana took him by the shoulder and pulled him close as if to divulge a secret. “Arthur Pendragon does not give good gifts. He is actually the worst gift-giver in all of England.” “Oh come on, the scarf isn’t that bad.” Merlin said, now kind of insulted for the piece of fabric. “Merlin, the scarf is perfect for you. It’s a good gift. Arthur doesn’t give good gifts.”

21 notes · View notes

twinsunstars · 9 months ago

Text

Remember Me - a small Bad Batch fic

Y'all I'm causing pain right before the premiere tomorrow, don't come for me 😭 I also haven't written in a long while, and I wrote this super fast. Just something I thought of based on a post I posted last week while listening to the song of the same name. This fic takes place during Season 2, so hope you like it!

also up on AO3

There were so many stars in space, Omega wished she could count all of them. The view from her makeshift room–normally the gunner’s loft of the ship–was stunning as always.

Omega sat in the gunner’s seat, holding Lula close and observing the view of space. She remembered the first time she had gotten to see space all those months ago, the way the tiny white stars twinkled in the vast darkness. Her eyes sparkled with wonder, her heart leaping with delight.

The Batch had just finished up another mission Cid had sent them on, and it was a long way back to Ord Mantell. Omega could hear Wrecker’s snores from her room. He knocked out pretty easily after long tiring missions. Tech and Echo were likely keeping a watch on the ship’s controls, and Hunter was making sure everything was in order before the jump to hyperspace. She could even hear Gonky making some small noises as he listened to her brothers.

Flashes of blue streaked her room’s window, the ship now entering hyperspace. Omega stepped down from the gunner’s seat, sitting herself down on the makeshift bed Wrecker had made for her. Holding Lula, she laid down on her back, staring at the golden string lights that lit up her room. The lights made her blond hair glow, and Omega felt comfortable in here. Away from a dark room. Away from a dark laboratory.

“Comfortable in here?”

Omega looked up to see Hunter giving her a soft smile, leaning his arm against the sides of the room. Omega sat up, crossing her legs and setting Lula aside next to her. “Yeah. Getting a little tired though.”

Hunter let out a soft chuckle. “Get some rest. The others will be getting some shut eye too. I’ll be on watch duty this time.”

Omega nodded, her eyes starting to shut. Hunter closed the curtain, the curtain rings making a small creaking sound as they glided. She laid back down, pulling her blanket over her and tucking in Lula, letting sleep capture her for the trip back home.

______________________________________________________________

Omega’s eyes opened to a foggy view, and she was definitely no longer inside her room, or the ship. She listened for any snores or voices, but couldn’t hear any.

“Hello?”

Her tiny voice echoed in the fog. Omega couldn’t see anything either as she tried to navigate herself through the thick fog. “Hunter! Echo! Tech! Anyone?”

A ceiling light lit up in front of Omega, followed by a line of lights that yearned for her to come after. Omega arched her eyebrow, following the lights. She still couldn’t see anything, but the fog was starting to thin out.

Lights to Omega’s left and right appeared, displaying large tubes. Omega could easily recognize them. They were just like the ones she saw growing up in Nala Se’s lab. Even in the secret rooms Nala Se would take her to when the Kaminoan needed her for specific help.

Omega’s heart rate began to grow. She always hated the labs, reminding her of how scary her life was since she was born. It was always wires, tubes, and injection needles, never any warm hugs or toys to play with.

She kept on walking under the lights, beginning to see unknown figures inside the tubes. Omega looked away and held her arms together, refusing to see all of that again. She didn’t want to be here anymore, wherever this place was.

Up ahead, a light appeared larger than the rest, displaying a control panel in front of her. Omega walked up to the control panel, which looked exactly like one of the panels inside Nala Se’s underwater lab. A small button was glowing in white, flashing every second. Omega couldn’t help but press the button out of curiosity, and she wished she hadn’t.

The button caused a larger light to switch on, revealing five large tubes in front of her. Each one of them had one of her brothers inside, hooked up with tubes. Even Crosshair was there, asleep inside the tube’s liquid.

Omega trembled, stepping away from the panel. “No, no…” Her lips trembled, tears coming out of her eyes.

“I’m sorry, young one.” A strange voice completely unfamiliar to Omega spoke from the darkness. But there was no figure to be seen.

“But they have to leave you. They can’t be with you anymore.”

“No,” Omega whimpered. She wanted to run towards them, do anything to set them free. Something grabbed ahold of Omega, preventing her from moving. The unknown force pulled her away, and Omega could see wires wrapping around her bare arms. All Omega could do was scream.

“NO!”

“Kid?”

______________________________________________________________

“Kid!”

Omega woke up with a jolt, her hands shaking. She was back in her warmly lit room. Omega realized it was a nightmare. A really scary one.

Hunter laid his hand gently on Omega’s soft hair, helping her sit up. His enhanced senses had sensed Omega whimpering in her sleep, almost sobbing. “Breathe.”

Omega’s eyes welled up with tears, still in shock from the nightmare. She looked up at Hunter, letting him see her glistening eyes that were full of fear. She pushed herself into Hunter’s arms, sniffling.

Hunter held her, letting her cry it out. “It’s okay. It was just a bad dream.”

Omega lifted herself off Hunter’s armor, wiping her tears away. “It felt real. All of you were in tubes, and I couldn’t save you.” She broke into more tears. “I was alone.”

Hunter let her continue crying, pulling her into another embrace. He knew what it felt like to have those dreams. Fearing his brothers were ever pulled into those tubes as failed test subjects. Continued experiments until their blood was drained from their bodies. He never wanted them to come true.

“I don’t want to lose any of you, ever,” Omega mumbled.

Hunter had made that same promise to her all the time. At her young age, she had a lot of hope. But reality is something she has to learn.

“Omega,” Hunter began, putting his hands on her shoulders. “It’s alright, we’re here for you now. But you know we can’t always be. We age faster than you, and death is something everyone has to face in this world, not just a soldier. It is hard, but you have to remember all of the memories. When that time comes, will you be brave and remember what we taught you?”

Omega looked down for a few seconds, then back up at Hunter. She was the only one here who aged normally, since they were designed to age faster for the army to grow quickly. She nodded. Omega never wanted them to leave her, but she was slowly understanding the lesson Hunter was trying to teach her.

“Come here.” Hunter pulled Omega into his lap, handing her Lula. He stroked her hair and began singing the lullaby Cut had taught him.

Remember me though I have to say goodbye

Remember me, don't let it make you cry

For even if I'm far away, I hold you in my heart

I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart

Omega was lured back into sleep, holding Lula close and embracing the warmth in Hunter’s arms as he sang. Everything was okay within this moment, and she was safe.

______________________________________________________________

Hunter remembered the last night he had sung that lullaby to Omega. She had grown to love that lullaby, wanting Hunter to sing it for her many times before she went to bed.

The ship was quiet while traveling through hyperspace. The others were in the front of the ship, silent while thinking about the loss they had just faced. Tech was gone, and now Omega was taken.

Everything that replayed in Hunter’s mind was when he saw that Imperial ship leaving with Omega inside. The tears that welled up in his eyes while seeing his little sister being taken from him.

He laid back in his chair, remembering the smiles Omega had on her face.

“Sing me the lullaby again! Please!”

Tears grew in Hunter’s eyes again. He closed them, breathing in as he began to sing again.

Remember me though I have to travel far

Remember me each time you hear a sad guitar

Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be

Until you're in my arms again

Hunter felt like he could hear a tiny voice singing with his broken vocals.

Remember me.

#@half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk #bad batch #the bad batch #the bad batch omega #the bad batch hunter #tbb #the bad batch wrecker #the bad batch tech #the bad batch echo #the bad batch crosshair #star wars tbb #bad batch clones #star wars the bad batch #clone force 99 #the bad batch series #star wars #omega the bad batch

22 notes · View notes