#and even if they did the issue is they take that anger out with civilians as collateral damage it’s a parallel for bruce and smth he needed

[starlooove]

The woobification of Gotham rogues needs to be studied

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

He's my collar

Synopsis: You were saved by your ex-mentor, then Batman saved you from him. Even with your habilities It seems like you will never stop being a damsel in distress. Don't worry though, you are just a puppy who just got adopted by the best caretaker ever. And he knows what you need even better than yourself.

Pairing: Yandere!Batman X Villain turned hero!Gn!AFAB!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: 18+; Dubcon between Yan!Bruce X Gn!Reader; Reader has a pussy and an uterus; Grooming?!; Reader is inexperienced and a virgin; Reader is a people pleaser; age gap (Reader is 21 and Bruce is on his 40’s); fingering!reader receiving; mentions of sexu4l harr4sment, s3xual 4ssault and pedoph1lia (nothing happens, reader was just afraid of being a victim growing up); Bruce is very touchy and Reader doesn't know how to feel about that; power imbalance; Reader has intense daddy and thrust issues, intrusive thoughts and a rough background; mentions of family loss; fluff, suggestive and angst; manipulation and guilt tripping; platonic!batfamily are happy, Damian loves you and no one knows Bruce is a yandere for you, but they are kinda weirded out by the age gap; English is not my first language.

Word count: 8,5k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: that's how I’m picturing villain!reader suit and that's the vigilant suit. Also It was really hard to find cool names for reader’s villain ex-mentor and reader’s villain and hero persona, but you can imagine whatever suit and name you want

General masterlist

You were 11 when your deadbeat father handed you over to Overkill to appease the criminal’s anger. That day, you lost your birth name and became Onslaught.

When you joined him you were afraid your fate would be to become his sex slave, it wouldn't be absurd to think he wanted to use you like that since the last time you saw your father, when he was on his knees, crying for his life to be spared, he cried an offer that your mentor accepted: my kid! Take my kid! They already bleed! Check their underwear! They're already grown, take them and do whatever you want to them! Don't even have to bring them back, take them with you if you want! They can clean and cook and will do whatever you want, I swear! they will keep quiet! I won't tell anyone!

Tsk. Pathetic old man.

Later he told you he only took you in because cruelty against kids was the only line he refused to cross and hated who committed It. He said you were better off with him If your own father made a strange and violent man an offer of such disgusting nature.

Overkill never touched you the way your father expected. If 99% of the time he didn't treat you like a minion, and 1% as his ward, you could even love him. He definitely was your second (shitty) father figure.

Instead, he did make you cook and clean, but only when you weren't training and studying to be his sidekick. He was a villain-for-hire. Sketchy civilians, crime bosses, supervillains and corrupt politicians would hire you both to do the stealing, killing and terrorizing. When you became his, it meant he could get more jobs while working less and earning more. He got 99% of the money and you would get 1%. Literally. If he was in a good mood, felt you deserved a treat or one of the clients showed a liking to you, he gave you more, never more than his own part though.

It was just one more way to keep the leash of the puppy attached to him. Keep you dependent. He also used psychological methods for that, you knew that now.

When you were a kid, before he became your mentor, like every normal child, you developed an obsession. Some liked dinosaurs. Some liked princesses. Some liked insects. You liked wolves. You used to spend hours imagining yourself being one of them. Running through the woods with a pack that would accept, love and protect you. Your cries for help, the night that your father beat your mom to her grave and was close to doing the same to you, were howls to the moon. Calling for help. Calling for someone. But the only one who could hear your frequency was him.

Your savior. Your keeper. The alpha of your little two member pack.

When you were 21 your whole life changed for the second time. Batman caught Overkill, cut off his claws, put a muzzle on him and left him in Belle Reve.

He was merciful to you though, he was a hero after all, and he investigated your history. He gave you options: 1-Live a civilian and lawful life. 2-Learn his ways and become a vigilant by his side, saving lives and all that shit that made heros panties wet. 3-Keep the lifestyle of a criminal and next time he saw Onslaught in action he would break your legs and put you in a cage right next to your packleader's.

You chose the second option.

And that was how Onslaught was dead and Silverclaw was born.

Batman set you up in one of his safehouses, helped get a new identity and you were to patrol the city with him every night. You thought because you were an adult he would leave you on your own when It came to education and a job, he didn't. He insisted on giving you money until you found a common daytime job.

— Are you doing that to make sure I’m not gonna try to monetize from saving people? — You looked at him suspiciously, searching for a facial reaction that could give him away. None came. Dude was really stoic.

— No.

— You are trying to control me then. — You crossed your arms, being mindful of your new claws.

— I’m trying to help you. — Batman stared at you a lot. If you didn't know better you would think he was a statue in the middle of your new living room from how still he was. You huffed. — You can trust me…

— Can I, really? Can you trust me? — You challenged him, half stepping forward and learning slightly in his direction while touching the bat in his chest with the tip of your claw. He didn't react.

— You will show me.

You chose not to respond and resumed your previous actions of looking around your new home. You pretended to just be touring curiously but the man knew you were searching for cameras or bugs he could use to secretly monitor you. Or just have a peepshow.

— You always do this to the rest of your bats? — He didn't answer. — Maybe not all, I imagine Red Hood wouldn't like it. You don't mind that he is a crime lord right? Or is that the reason you are always fighting?! — He still didn't answer. — Wow, Geez, you never shut up, you know?! Let other people talk. Uh, sorry, I shouldn't be talking like that with my new boss, right?

— I'm not your boss.

— Babysitter then?

— Mentor… Until you can work on your own… — You roll your eyes. So much for admitting he didn't trust you yet. Well, you didn't either.

After three months he changed your suit to have a bat brand on your left shoulder, you were an official member of his team, and gave you access to the batcave. You always saw him, some of the others and his butler coming and going from the elevator, but never tried It, even If he never out loud forbade you from doing it. You noticed they were all very close and didn't feel like you belonged among them, so you didn't need to know where that elevator took you, even If you were often in the cave.

On the 5th month you passed out from an injury after saving Robin. Two-face flipped the coin and his bullet was aiming straight to Robin’s head but he was so small that when you ran in front of him it hit your abdomen. You woke up four hours later in the cave and Batman took his mask off and thanked you for saving his son. That night you found out all of their identities and that the elevator took you to Wayne Manor. Damian, Alfred, Bruce, Tim and Dick (who showed up to thank you as soon as he heard what you prevented from happening with his baby brother) all insisted that you spent the night in one of the guest rooms due to your recent injury.

It took a week of you trying to leave until you managed to. Everyone always found a way to convince you to stay. They were nice and It felt like a warm welcome into their group.

— Damian looks up to you. — Bruce calmly stated after stopping in front of you one day, a month after your recovery was complete and you were out and about at night again. After watching you sparing with Robin for an hour and a half, the opened case was officially forgotten on his ‘batcomputer’ behind him.

— Yeah, I can really feel him putting all his love on his tiny fists when he hits me and leave me bruised and sore for days. — You comment nonchalantly while taking a sip of water and glancing at the kid running towards the elevator. Your mentor snorted.

— He wants you to see him as someone on your level or above. To know that he is reliable and you can call for him when you need help. He did the same with everyone here. Chalenged them, I mean. — You open your mouth to respond but freeze and your arm instintively moves on its own to grip his wrist when he tries to touch your shoulder.

You both stare a each other frozen and in silence for a few seconds before you snap out of it and let go of his wrist.

— My bad.

His hand is still in the air and he slowly retreats It to his side while still analizing you.

— Are you scared of me? — You shake your head hurriedly.

— It was instinct. — You leave It at that.

You both spend a few moments just staring the other down until he clears his throat and step back.

— I’m on a case. You need to work on your detective skills more. Are you free now or are you going to your nest? — You felt deeply grateful for his change of subject and agreed.

You went to grab another seat but his long legs beat you to It, rolled the chair in the direction of the computer and gentlemanly gestured for you to seat down, pushing the chair forward to accommodate you when your tights touched the padding. You raised your eyebrows wearily after the whole interaction but didn't react more than that while he situated himself on his ‘batseat’ beside you.

After a few minutes you unconsciously relaxed your muscles and your conversation went on for hours. You were delightened by how easy It was to talk to him, the first time It didn't feel like an interaction between you that wasn't strictly mentor and apprentice, instead, It felt more like a friend giving you tips and you sucked up on all the knowledge and attention he provided you. He seemed in a good mood and even gave you his signature small smile and praised you a few times when you got something right.

At some point Alfred came down to provide you both with tea and snacks, he seemed to pause for a second while his eyes flew from you to Bruce, who was behind you since you turned around to acknouledge his entrance, covering most of his emotions towards the sight. He semeed kinda… Intrigued. Maybe surprised or awkward. You hacked your brain trying to understand but he turned around and left, Bruce was pushing your cup into your hands before you came to any conclusion.

— You like tea? — He questioned and the contrast between this question and the gory case you were discussing seconds before amused you.

— Uhh, I guess? — You brought the cup closer to your lips, copying his actions as he did the same while looking at you casually. — I like more coffee though, and Overkill was a coffee enthusiast so we drank a lot.— You scrunched your nose at the fleeting memory of your old mentor and the weird reminder that he had a human personality behind his usual strict behavior.

Bruce's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly for a second before the expression vanished. He never held back when it came to showing contempt towards anyone from his team’s past who was associated with crime.

— Were you close to him? — Suddenly he seemed more serious. You wondered if you were misreading the mood this whole time or were just doing it right now.

— Hmm… Not really… It's complicated… - You took another sip.

— I’m listening. — He seemed sincere. Apparently you were having a break from work.

— He wasn't all bad, I mean, he saved me, but… He still kept me around for all business… — Part of you felt like grieving for some reason. — I guess I ended up seeing him as as father figure, or I wanted to, but… — Bruce held himself not to tense. For the first time since the work talk stopped he took his eyes off of your face and looked at his cup. — He just… He knew how to keep his distance while still keeping me by his side 24/7. — He looked at you again, with a more neutral semblance than before. — At leash until I turned 18. He changed when I turned 18. — Bruce furrowed his eyebrows with concern. It was still odd to know someone cared about you.

— How so?

You cleared your throat. It was the first time you thought about the past since becoming a lonely wolf, or rather, you thought you were a lonely wolf, that changed when you realized you now had friends. Thinking about the past was pointless when you barely had something to be nostalgic about. You only had memories you desperately wanted to forget.

— Well… You know how his only weak spot are kids. When I hit 18, I stopped being a kid for him. I was finally too old to commit mistakes. I think he saw me as a possible threat and wanted to prevent me from becoming one by proving how much power he had over me. He was a boss for me just as much as any goom beneath him.

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. You didn't say more, afraid of delving too much on something you avoided to think about until your darkest nights.

Suddenly you felt your whole body tense when you felt his warm and big hand rest just above your knee and squeeze. You fixed your gaze on his hand but didn't move more than that. It felt strange, you weren't used to gentle touches and maybe there was something more, you Just didn't now what yet. It got worse when he kept his palm there and went further, rolling his thumb in circles around your clothed knee. The thick sweatpants fabric kept the barrier of intimacy up albeit the heat radiating off of him somehow challenged it. How can someone be so warm? You envied people who where always warm like that. You hated feeling cold — one of the reasons why you liked your suit so much.

— I’m sorry about that… — His voice mande your eyes snap to his again, he had a sincere expression. It was off putting and seemed out of character since he was always stoic, at least around you.

You bite your lip in a display of nervousness that escaped your usually well conceived emotions. Your heart beat faster when for a fleeting second he looked at your mouth and just as fast he was fixed on your eyes again. You didn't think the action had any hidden meaning, nor was it intentional, still, you felt the the need to run and hide.

— … Sure… — You moved to cross your legs, silently prompting him to finally take his hand off after lingering for too long. You looked back to the computer, determined to ignore what just happened and reflect on what it meant later. You missed his displeasement.

Bruce never expected himself to feel attracted to you. As he got older, the age range of the people he felt attracted to accompanied his age. He kept to himself and willed it away at first, but you were so… You.

You tried acting cold, kinda like him. But you needed him and strays always caught his attention. Unlike his kids he had a hunch that you wouldn't flourish by being independent and left on your own. You needed a keeper.

At first he felt like a creep every time your body caught his attention or he found himself staring at you for longer than intended. He was hyperaware everytime you two were close, wich usually was when sparring.

Bruce thought that taking you in as his protegee would satiate his need to take care of you and have you close, but after months of paying your bills and mentoring you, he realized his feelings for you were not platonic.

And it seemed like he was not the only one.

He knew the rest of the family noticed his “fleeting” touches that would linger on your shoulder, arms, back and knee. He retracted himself every time you showed clear disfomfort though, but you never outright rejected him.

His theory of his family's knowledge of his interest in you was confirmed one night when Nightwing stopped by to borrow some equipment and witnessed Batman closer than necessary to Silverclaw, while taking too much to inspect — with his eyes and his hands — your gloves that you were wearing and apparently had recently been upgraded.

— Hey, guys! — Dick’s hesitacion towards the scene grew but kept hidden when you both looked up at him surprised. Somehow he caught you both off guard even if the elevator was not that silent. Dick noted that Silverclaw seemed slightly wide-eyed, the only feature in your suit that was left exposed, along with your eyebrows, while Bruce, who wasn't wearing the cow, maintained a neutral expression, like he didn't have anything to hide. You both greeted him when surprise subsided and you took a step back from Bruce, like you just realized your proximity.

— Hmm… I should get going… Gonna meet Red Robin on the docks in a few. — Both men acknowledged your presence again and Dick saw your awkwardness, his parent seemed fine though.

Bruce nodded to you and you suddenly felt like a sidekick who had just gotten permission from Overkill to do something you were supposed to be doing with or without his approval, but needed to make sure your superior thought it to be appropriate for the mission. A soldier reporting to their captain. Like you never actually took a step forward and everything was the same. It made you feel small and hollow. Gave a bad taste to your mouth. It didn't feel good. But you ignored it because it was all in your head.

Before you could move, the oldest hand shot to your waist and squeezed briefly the soft flesh there as best as he could with the armor in the way. You felt your blood freeze and shivered.

— Be careful. We don't know what Killer Croc is doing there. And take care of Red Robin, he only had 10 hours of sleep in the last three days. — You meekly and wordlessly nodded and robotically left on your bike while feeling a pair of eyes scrutinizing your every move.

Dick cleared his throat, finally catching the Dark Knight’s attention for good.

— Dick. Do you need something? — Bruce turned to his work table and started tinkering with what apparently he was doing before you interrupted him earlier.

— I mean, just came to take a spare mask, I think the camera lenses on mine broke. But since I’m already here… — The younger alonged the last word while hopping to his father’s side. — B, can I talk to you about something? Don't be mad. — That made Bruce worried. Dick cringed at his own wording and the older male turned to him and crossed his arms.

— What happened? — Bruce demanded in a Batman’s voice.

— Nothing! Nothing. Sorry, my bad. What I meant was… Are you sure that's what you want? — At his dad’s confused furrowed eyebrows the hero explained. — (Y/N). I mean… They’re quite young, you know?! It's a lot of responsibility... I don't think they've ever dated anyone, even if they're between Jason and Tim’s age and Tim’s a whore… Too much of a slut for his own age, actually- Not the point. It's just, everyone noticed and have been commenting about it, but I don't think they noticed already. — Nightwing leaves it at that, hoping that his father understands what he was trying to say, desperately trying not to have to explain more and feel like he is teaching his own father the ‘puberty will make your body change’ and the ‘birds and bees’ talk, or ‘bats and wolves’ talk, in this case.

Bruce blinked.

— Are you trying to give me the sex talk? — And there goes all his hard work. — And stop swearing. — Dick groans and runs his hand through his face.

— Nooo, why do you make everything so difficult? It’s just… First of all, we thrust you okay? It just feels weird when you start flirting with them, especially for the ones that live here. I mean, me and Jason still have nightmares and get the creeps when we remember the time when you used to date Selina. And Damian almost pukes every time Talia tries to rizz you up again. — Dick is careful to dance around the subject of your more than two decades age gap. — And, like I said, I don't think (Y/N) has much experience either. Maybe they don’t know what you're doing. Just… Go slow, okay?!

Bruce holds a huff for the sake of being stoic.

He already envisioned the possibility of you having none or little experience before, and you haven't done anything that told him otherwise yet. Deep down he is kinda… Turned on knowing he could be your first everything. Teach you just how he likes. Be the only one to ever know what you like. He's also happy that, by the way his son said it, it looks like everyone thinks you are both closer than you really are. More intimate, romantic. He and you are the only ones who know that you never had a conversation about the change in your dynamic, limits, future and general status. He thinks you are conflicted, and this conversation only encouraged him to either lay down the cards for you or catch you off guard and put you against the wall. Metaphorically.

And maybe literally.

He's also not going to think too deep in the warm feeling he feels when thinking about corrupting an innocent puppy who isn't even aware of his intentions.

A sheep in wolf's clothing.

— I know all about that, Dick. Don't worry, I'm being mindful of their timing.

— You should move to the manor.

Bruce's blurted out sentence caught you so off guard you choked on your rich people's food. You knew he was simmering something in his mind the whole morning.

He recently got you to work as his assistant in Wayne Enterprises. You felt he either pitied you for having been forced to drop school when you were 11 you couldn't find many options that allowed you to live a comfortable life — in the standards of an old money billionaire at least —, and your lack of education wasn't a problem to be solved fast. You just didn't know he wanted a solid excuse to be your sole provider forever and wanted you close to him all the time.

He also liked how you looked in formal attire. Developed a fantasy of bending you over the table and taking you from behind. Making you suck him off under the table. Then get on his knees and reciprocate the favor. Became obsessed with the sight of the first buttons of your shirt open, exposing your neck and collarbone. Was hooked on how it made your chest look. Was bent on making you lean forward to give him a flash of what's under your shirt.

He was never this perverted for anyone his whole life. You must be special.

The Wayne was unbothered with your choking while people on the other tables glanced your way, he simply chose to pat you on the back — and not take his hand off when you felt better, you still didn't know how to feel about the touchy nature he adopted when with you. He never hurt you, but was it really… Appropriate?

He is your mentor. He is a lot older. Your inner child cried for him to take you in as one more of his children, heal your daddy issues.

Another part of you, on the other hand, thought of you to be too old for him to simply claim you as his child — he took in his children who were close to your age when they were kids —. That part also told you you were undeserving of love, that everyone just wanted to take advantage of you, and that authority figures should shove it up their asses.

Your intrusive thoughts remarked that if he really wanted you sexually — obviously romantically was not an option. All you are is an object. —, well, he is very attractive. And even If you decide that you don't want him that way… You should just take It. He is above you. It's just how hierarchy works. He protects you. He takes care of you. You should be grateful and stay on his good side.

You internally shake your head. No. That's not how it works.

You took a sip of water.

— What are you talking about? Why? — You look at him, trying to understands where this is coming from. Sure, living alone was kinda lonely, but freeing, you didn't feel like you needed to seek anyone's approval or permission when you were alone. Besides, you were barely on your nest now that he got you this job anyway. And Damian seemed to like running off and sleeping in your place when he and Bruce were having their disaccords.

— Well, for one, it would give me peace of mind, it's safer with us. It would also make It easier for you, you wouldn't have to drive home alone at 3 a.m after patrols. — You raised an eyebrow at his current list of reasons. The 1st might be right. But the 2nd was like saying you were a civilian walking home after your shift at your civilian job. Not a vigilant, ex-criminal with 10 years of experience in hand-to-hand combat, maneuvering of weapons, who rides a motorcycle to a toptech safehouse while carrying a bat-utility belt and stainless steel claws. You kept your mouth shut when he seemed to have more reasons. — Damian would love to have you closer, the others too, but you know you are his second favorite. — Your heart felt warm at that. After learning the reason for the puppy’s bites, you couldn't help but see a bit of yourself in him, since you had similar backgrounds. You tried to subtly give him a safe space so he wouldn't turn out to be like you. You didn't want that for anyone. Especially a kid. — And also… I want you closer.

You took a deep breath while nodding slowly and trying not to react. Looks like it's time to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Suddenly his hand on your back felt heavier and burning hot.

— Why? — Your tone and steely expression made it clear you demanded a clear and honest answer from him. One he didn't hesitate to give you.

Faking a confused expression, he tilted his head slightly to the side.

— What do you mean why? I want you (Y/N). — Your blood froze. — I think it's been very clear that I’m in love with you. — You felt like you received a punch to the gut. — I… Thought you felt the same… — No, he didn't.

You didn't know what to say.

Bruce slowly retracted his hand away from you, but you stopped him midair by grabbing it. He knew it was time to take the next step.

You didn't even know why you did that. Do you feel the same for him?

— I… I… — Your mouth was opening and closing like a fish. He nodded understandably.

— It’s okay. You need time to think. My offer still stands. Even if you don't feel the same… I Just care about you above anything, okay? — You reluctantly nodded, staring at him almost dumbfounded. He smiled lightly to show he was still in good spirits.

After a moment of pondering he bit his lower lip, took his hand closer to your face and caressed your cheek, eyes stuck on his face, mesmerized. You were surprised someone as generous and rightful as him could look at you like that. Admirating you like you weren't tainted.

He even gave you a choice! And told you he cared about you! No matter if you feel the same!

He would certainly be a good man to love.

— Say ‘thank you’ to (Y/N), Damian.

— TT. Thank you, (L/N). — The little green-eyed puppy was looking from you to his present repeatedly. Months prior, when Batman first took you in, before you even had the bat insignia on your shoulder, you caught Robin sitting on a roof reading Death Note on his phone. You didn't know what it was and he pretended to be annoyed with your interruption while explaining it. Now, he is completing 14 and you bought him the whole set of volumes. You wanted him to know that you paid attention and cared about him. You wished someone did that when you were his age. Overkill didn't want to hear about wolves or about the cool new things you were seeing for the first time on your trips together.

You smiled.

— You’re welcome, pups. — Damian let out a ‘TT’ again and turned around to run to his friend Jon. You could almost see their wagging tails while they excitedly talked about his present. Bruce's hand running in circles in the small of your back snapped you out of it and you straightened your posture from the bent position you took to talk to the little one.

It was two weeks prior that he asked you to live with them. You accepted and moved a week ago. It was slightly disappointing to know you wouldn't gain a father out of him, but a least his confession made it easier to understand your feelings. You haven’t outright told him that you wanted him like a man, you were testing things out. In the end, you were both adults and at some point you had to learn to thrust someone. When looking at Damian you knew you didn't want your whole life to be defined by the abuses of two men. And when you agreed to his offer he seemed to see it as a consent to up his seduction.

His touch was still strange. You learned to like the feel of it, and you were getting used to it, soon It wouldn't be so foreign. You just started realizing how touchstarved you were and were just starting to crave it. Initiating it was still a distant concept, though, you had a — strongly equivocate — hunch that he wouldn't like it, that you would do something wrong in the simplest attempt of hugging him, holding his hand or touching his arm, that your touch wouldn't feel as delicate and tingly as his was, and you would make a fool of yourself. At least when you patted Ace, Titus, Alfred the cat and Batcow they seemed happy.

The others seemed to take well to seeing your interaction together — you didn't know they already knew where this was going way before yourself —. Sure, Jason called him a cradle robber but the ex-Robin always found an excuse to offend him. Everyone laughed at his comment, Dick and Alfred lightly reprimanded him (the former way more amused the latter). Bruce didn't react. You felt rotten. And when Jason later said something like “now Bruce, go play with your puppy and let us handle things” during a briefing, you knew it wasn't an offense — at least, not towards you. Plus, he called you a puppy before to tease you even if you were a year younger than him. — but it stuck in your head and you took the first opportunity to escape Batman’s hand on your tight and lock yourself in a bathroom to take a breath.

— I will transfer the money to your account. — Your head snapped towards Bruce and you exclaimed a genuine and loud ‘What?’, but everyone around you was also being way too loud for anyone to pay attention to you. Bruce hummed. — The set. It must’ve been expensive, I will give you the money back. — You shook your head.

— No, Bruce, It was a present. — Just the idea of it was absurd. What an odd man.

— Well, not to me, right?! So I can do It. — You scoffed at his logic. — Actually you could have told me before you were buying it and I would have given you my card. — He blinked. — That reminds me… — He took your hand and gently guided you out of the living room where the party was situated. No one batted an eye.

Damian had scoffed at the childish idea of a birthday party, but you could see right through him better than anyone.

You looked around confused as he guided you through the corridors and then up the stairs. The loud voices getting distant made the rest of the mansion feel eerily empty.

— Where are we going? — He glanced back at you and then ahead again, before briefly squeezing your hand.

— To my study. I have something for you there.

His response didn't satisfy all your curiosity but you knew he wouldn't give you more than that.

When you got there he opened the door for you and encouraged you to enter first with a hand on your lower back, then he shut the door closed and guided you to stand in front of his table. He walked around, opened a cabinet, took ou an envelope and came back to your side. The older male extended the envelope at you, who took it with suspicion after a moment of hesitation.

You forced yourself to not look up while you analyzed the envelope and opened it, ignoring both of his warm and gigantic hands that he positioned on your waist and squeezed — he liked squeezing you a lot, you noticed. — while he lightly reclined himself to sit on top of the table, in front of you, most of his weight being distributed to his long and meaty legs that were also on each side of you. He even pulled you closer and even if there was still space between your bodies, you were close enough to feel his heat.

You looked at the content inside the paper and froze. Such reaction could have come either from the sight of a black card with your name on it or because he chose that moment to sneak his hands under your shirt and caress your bare waist slowly with his calloused fingertips.

— No. — You slapped the card and paper against his chest. The bastard didn't react.

— Yes.

— No!

— Yes.

— I can't take it! — You kicked the ground stubbornly. He still didn't move, stubbornly.

— Why not? — You raised both eyebrows.

— Bruce, are you kidding me? That thing is limitless.

— Your point being? — You blinked several times.

— Wow… I knew you were one of those rich eccentric guys, but putting on a batsuit… — You refused to call it a costume and imply that you also wore a costume and were technically a furry. You learned that word from Tim. — … And beating up criminals is one thing. Going around distributing limitless cards to all your friends is simply insane! — One side of his mouth tilted up in what you quietly admitted was a sexy smark.

— Actually if I wanted to do that I could. But you are not a friend. You are part of the family. And my girlfriend. — And mine. His tongue craved to utter.

That easily silenced you. You didn't know how to react to that. You hacked your brain for any moment were you told him something in that connotation. You didn't find it. But well, couldn't blame the guy, he did told you he wanted you and you didn't stop his moves.

You cleared your throat, trying to hide your shock. He didn't seem surprised by your reaction.

It was another thing that being with them changed in you. You don't control your emotions 24/7 anymore, only when you are out and about as Silverclaw. In the past it was second nature, but feeling happiness was so new to you that you weren't used to trying to hide it yet. Nor wanted to. And you slowly gave yourself permission to be free and express most of what you felt. Not everything, you were still surrounded by a very odd-cryptic-strategizing-hyperanalyser-micro-expressions-reader-and-weird-with-emotions group of people. But you felt no one was really going to judge you if you chose to be free.

— I-I… Yeah… Yeah, okay. You are right. — You meekly accepted his statement. If he said it was true, then it was true. You would follow his lead. You are way too loyal and he knows that. You both wondered what was your limit. You were afraid of what would happen when that limit came. Would you just keep going just to make him happy? He hoped you did.

Actually, he might test some of those limits right now.

He carefully took the card and envelope from your hand and set it on the table behind him, you just rested your palms against his chest. Baby steps for you. Bruce wished that baby was a speedster.

You stuttered when he brought you closer, leaned forward and started tracing a random path of kisses on the skin of your neck. You allowed his sucking and laping of your skin for a few minutes and even tried running your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. His hands started roaming.

When his right squeezed the left cheek of your ass though, you gave a slight jump. It felt very sudden and activated your fight or flight instinct.

— W-We should go back downstairs. — You blurted out. Bruce just hummed in response, the vibration tickling your neck and ear. Aside from that he didn't stop his ministrations and that made you feel worse. Maybe you were the problem? Were you not clear enough? Shouldn't you endure more? For you? For him? He was used to people going a lot further with him, and here you were, trying to force him to stop just when he tried to spice things up with you. For fuck’s sake, you haven't even kissed him yet!

You bit your lip and willed your muscles to relax. Maybe all you need to do is endure a little bit more and you will get used to it. Until now that seemed to be the pattern.

Ignoring your pounding heart, you closed your eyes and just tried to enjoy it. You thought it was working until suddenly he stopped, and before you could open your eyes, stole a kiss from you.

It didn't grow to more than a half-second peck because your instincts to run took over your body and you jumped away from him, your hands extended in front of your body like you were dealing with a wild animal.

You just stared at each other with almost wide eyes for a few seconds, before the older male sighed, looked down and pressed the bridge of his nose with his pointer and thumb. Oh no. He wasn't happy. You shouldn't have done that. You fucked up.

— I’m sorry. — Bruce looked stressed when he rubbed his hand around his face, then brought it up to push his perfectly styled hair back. You shook your head like a scared kid. He finally looked up at you. — I’m sorry. I shouldn't have done that.

— No, no, it’s okay, I… Liked it. — You almost whispered in a meek voice. — Was just surprised. — Bruce nodded. He was unhappy with himself that he got carried away and almost fucked things up with you. But his infatuation made him lose train of thought sometimes. Yes. He wants to do bad things to you, corrupt you, desperately. But he doesn't want you trying to run away from him just yet, if ever.

You slowly made your way towards him again, your arms around your body, trying to bring yourself comfort. You wanted him to hug you and comfort you the same way, but you didn't know if he would do that, and if he did touch you again, would it really make you feel better?

It felt wrong. You just now had asked for him to stop completely, or at least give you a break, and he blatantly ignored it. Made you feel invisible, insignifcant, desperate enough to run. And here you were, seeking for a signal that he wouldn't give up on you just yet.

— Did… Did you know I never had a birthday party? — You forced yourself not to vacillate and put your hands on his shoulders.

— Hmm? — He gazed at you curiously but didn't touch you yet. It made you feel anxious and you forced yourself to take another step closer. Now you were just as close as you were before.

— I never had a birthday party. And last time I was invited to one I was 10. I didn't get to go though, it was my best friend's party, but my father was in a bad mood, so my mom said it was better not to do anything that could set him off. So I stayed home. — You felt his fingertips caressing tracing both of your tights carefully, it could almost be an unconscious move by how intensely concentrated he seemed with your story. — Next day, at school, everyone was talking about how fun, cool and amazing it was. I felt jealous and said I would have the best birthday party ever when I hit 11. I didn't. And no one remembered my promise. — He nodded slowly, his eyebrows furrowed with what was probably sympathy at you and anger at you father. At least that's how you felt. Sad for the younger you and hatred towards your father. — If you could… — You elongated your sentence, trying to hint your request for him, and he cut you off just like you wanted, expressing what was on his mind.

— What's your favorite cake flavor?

The gala ended just about an hour ago but you were both already in bed. Domesticity came easy when living together and even when you had your own room — much to his dismay. — Bruce quickly worked on getting you used to him enough to lay down beside him. And right now he was very grateful that you didn't have socials or else his plans for the night would’ve been interrupted by your discomfort about being called ‘Bruce Wayne’s controversially young new sweetheart’ and comments about his playboy mask.

He was getting impatient but Bruce knew that all good things come slowly, he took the night off to focus only on his goal.

You were laid down on your bed, in your own room and he was beside you, facing you, while you both talked, held hands and occasionally exchanged chaste kisses. It was cute, and innocent, but his balls had been blue since the party three weeks ago.

It was fine when his right hand let go of your left, his arm being thrown around your waist to accommodate the position, and placed on your middle. He kept running his hand around your upper body slowly and you swayed closer to him. At this point the only sounds in the room came from kisses and the friction of skin against fabric.

When Bruce angled himself and pushed in your direction until he was on top of you, It was still okay. What made you startled and nervous was when he pressed his hips down and you felt his hard cock against your thigh — the back of your mind screamed about how big he was and how it wouldn't fit when the time comes.

�� Hmm… Bruce? — You felt a little antsy, but you thought he would understand what you were trying to say. Didn't seem like the case, since he kept kissing you to silence you. You felt suffocated and that prompted you to push his chest weekly. Maybe you needed to give a clearer signal.

Bruce stared at you from above for a second before closing his eyes and sighing.

His reaction shocked you and you didn't move when he got off and plopped down beside you again, this time putting more distance between your bodies and facing the ceiling. He draped his arm over his face and took a deep breath.

You sheepishly tilted to your side and went closer to him, his possible annoyance towards you made you more reluctant to touch him, but you did it anyway, trying to appease him.

— Bruce…

— What is it? — He finally looked at you. He was not happy. — You don't trust me yet? — His furrowed brows, grave voice and held back tone intimidated you slightly, it just caused more worry.

— N-No, it's not that… — Bruce thought it was better to turn down a notch on his acting if he wanted to have his way with you tonight.

He nodded, relaxed his muscles and turned his body in your direction again. He draped his arm around your waist and started trailing slow kisses down your neck to calm you down.

— I know. I know, puppy. — He uttered carefully and nodded reassuringly. — It's not your fault. I'm just a little… Frustrated, is all. — Your brows cinched.

— Frustrated with… Me? — Your heart ached at the thought. It was hard hearing him, and just as hard saying it out loud. Bruce shook his head.

— I just don't understand. I’ve been taking care of you for so long, been waiting for you, doing so much for you. But it's like you are still guarding yourself from me… I love you, pup, you are everything to me and I desire you. Wanna make you feel good. But, sometimes, you make me feel like… Like you don't feel the same… — You heart fell and you felt an urge to fix your mistakes.

— But I-I do! I just… — A sigh and then a deep breath. — … How can I do better? — You said meekly.

Bruce held back a smirk, you were smart even if insecure, and preening would give off his lewd plotting.

The dark knight pretended to contemplate for a brief moment as if he didn't plan every step beforehand.

— … We don't have to go all the way now, you could just… You could let me finger you? — Half of you felt relieved, the other, the one that just wanted to keep him happy, felt nervous but determined.

Your inexperienced and people pleaser mind couldn't comprehend how him doing things to you could also be considered him taking advantage of you. That was one of your biggest nightmares and paranoia. Growing up you were always afraid that your ex-mentor would assault you, or allow one of his employers and colleagues to hurt you just because they asked or paid for some fun with the young pretty thing. Especially after you weren't underage anymore, since he only seemed to have a soft spot for them. It somehow, thankfully, never happened, only impure comments were made and he cut them off every time until you were 18, after that you were left on your own and if you didn't do anything he saw it as you wanting it to happen since he trained you more than enough to protect yourself and show authority with others that were not him.

If Bruce wanted to pleasure you and not himself… Then he was really selfless and only wanted to help you with your little problem. He's been taking such good care of you for so long, there’s no reason to believe he won't do the same now.

So you nodded, shaken.

You let him maneuver you how he wanted and ended up the same way your making out session started, you on your back and the older man facing your direction. You watched closely and willing your heart to stop pounding as he undressed your legs and hips from your pants and underwear. It was awkward feeling so exposed, especially when he sneaked his arm between your legs and started fondling your dry center.

— Relax… Deep breaths… Just close your eyes and enjoy it… — His grave and husky voice whispers in your ear before teeth start nibbling on it, your whole body shivered and you did as he instructed, not sure if it was working until his friction felt less burning and waves of pleasure started rolling through you. You were right, he always wanted what's good for you, you reassured yourself and felt a little comforted, even if your heart was still pounding.

You let out a surprised gasp and your eyes shot open when you heard a loud wet squelch, the first thing you saw thing you saw were the movements of his wrist, the second, his face, eyes dead set on observing you, and he chuckled at your reaction.

— See? No reason to worry… — And worry you did not. You knew this short period of nervousness and those guilty feelings you were experiencing would be worth it in the future. And Bruce knew the risks he took and manipulation were proving their value right now.

He changes his up and down movements to circles and you let out a sound that you never heard coming out of your own mouth. Your eyes fluttered close automatically and your hand shot to grip his shirt with an unconscious amount of force.

— I-I like this better… — Bruce hummed and resumed working his mouth from your ear, to neck and collarbone.

His hand moves were slow and deliberate, but stable. The older man angles his body in an upper position so he could easily use his left hand to pull your shirt up slowly until your chest and pouting nipples were exposed. Lost in arousal and pleasure and thrusting he knew what he was doing you didn't bat an eye towards his actions.

You moaned louder when you felt his soft chapped lips close around your nipple and wet warm tongue playing with the sensitive bud. Bruce felt your lower lips getting wetter and used that to his advantage to intrude the squelching hole between your legs with his fingers curved upwards, his thumb expertly still running circles around your clit.

You gasped and both your hands shot to grab the bed comforter under you. It was the first time someone touched you like that and it was a while since you played with your bud yourself, so before you knew it, your pussy was squeezing and milking his fingers in the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had and this time the man couldn’t stop his grin from taking over his face.

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[thehusbandoden]

That's a New Feeling -Dabi x Reader

A/n: honestly I had no idea what to do for the title 😅

General info:

Genre: angst to fluff \\ wc: 1,545 \\ posted: 11/18/2023

Warnings!: arguing, raised voices, saying things they didn't mean (from both parties), a mention of Dabi's past, daddy issues, guilt, crying, and your partner leaving for an extended amount of time. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

"C'mon Doll, you can't still be mad at me." Dabi chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, looking you in your eyes as he trailed his fingers down to your chin, holding it gently.

Huffing, you pull away from his touch. "I can, and I still am."

"Oh come on. It was one tim-"

"Dabi don't you dare lie to me. We both know that it wasn't just 'one time'."

"Okay okay, it may happen frequently. But, you know I'm sorry."

"Do I though? Do I really? Because all I hear from you are excuses."

Dabi sighs, running his hand through his hair. "Now you're just being petty." He murmured, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Petty? I'm the petty one!?"

"Yes! Yes you are!" "

How! How on earth am I the petty one!?"

"It was a mistake! You shouldn't be so sensitive!" "Now you're changing the subject!?"

"You're the one changing the subject, y/n."

"You're pathetic." You hiss, storming into the kitchen.

"Aww did I hurt your feelings?" Dabi mocked, following you. "You're such a cry baby. Did you know that?

"I was worried about you because I care about you!"

Dabi laughed humorlessly. "Care about me? That's rich."

"Yes! I care about you! Even though I have no idea why! You're a selfish brat who only thinks about himself!"

Dabi's face darkened. He seemed to actually be angry now. "You have no idea what selfish is, y/n."

"Oh I know." You chuckle darkly. "I know what selfish looks like. All you do is complain about how hard your life is, and how easy I have it. You're always whining about how sore your body is, and how broke you are. Complaining about how you need to dye your hair again, and that we're out of your favourite snacks as you sit on your arse, telling me how I should actually 'contribute' to our income."

"Oh? What happened to you caring about me? I'm in pain and you find me selfish? I'm tired after working hard for us, and yet it's not enough? You don't ever do anything, y/n. And I'm the selfish one?"

"You're the one working such a low life job, maybe you should actually be a decent human being and get a normal job." You hiss, causing Dabi to clench his jaw.

"Take that back." He quietly growled, his turquoise eyes cold with anger as he glared at you.

"No, I won't. It's the truth." You were too angry to think rationally as you washed the dishes, not even paying any attention to Dabi's face.

"You know why I don't work a civilian's job." Dabi hissed in your ear, standing over you. "You also know how hard I'm working for your ungrateful arse."

You drop the dishes into the soapy sink, causing bubbles to splash onto both you and Dabi. "I am not lazy. I do all of the cleaning, and all of the cooking. Oh, and stop using your daddy issues as an excuse. Your daddy didn't love you, oh well. Get over it."

Dabi's face fell. He trembled in anger as he gripped onto the counter. "Take. That. Back." He growled, his face dangerously close to yours.

"Never." You hiss, glaring into his eyes. Trembling in rage, Dabi burned a hole in the countertop before storming into your shared bedroom. At the sudden movement, you suddenly snapped into reality. What you said was partly true.. but the way you had said it and the implications were bound to be hurtful and were definitely uncalled for.

Feeling guilty and worried about what would happen next, you rush upstairs. "Listen Dabi I-" you froze as you saw Dabi stuffing clothing into a backpack, his body smoking in certain areas. "Dabi?"

Dabi ignored you, grabbing his phone and his charger. "Dabi, baby please. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it I swear." You grabbed Dabi's arm, guilt tearing at your heart as you saw how badly you hurt your beloved.

Dabi continued to ignore you, his body trembling in rage.

"Listen baby, we were both angry but I should have never brought your past up like that. I'm so sorry.. please don't ignore me baby.."

Dabi glared at you, his lip curling into a snarl. "I thought I could trust you." He spat, before pulling away, storming downstairs.

"W-wait Dabi! You can! I'm so sorry, please just wait a second! You can sleep in our bed, and I'll sleep on the couch! Please don't leave!" You started panicking, following Dabi as he stormed downstairs.

"The one person I trusted, and it blew up in my face. I should have trusted my gut." Dabi hissed, opening the front door. Panicking, you threw yourself onto him.

"Baby please! I'm so so sorry! I shouldn't have brought it up like that! Please just wait!" You exclaim, tears brimming your eyes. You were worried Dabi would leave for good this time.

Dabi shrugged you off, shooting you one last glare before slamming the door closed. Scrambling onto your feet, you were about to pursue him but stopped yourself. That would cause a scene, and that would make it more likely that people would recognize him.

Sighing, you slowly move back to your bedroom, flopping onto the bed. You were still angry with Dabi, that was no doubt. And you believed that most of the things you said were justified, and you weren't really wrong about him being able to be a better person.. but the way you downplayed his past was absolutely not okay, and you were paying the consequence.

Tears fell down your cheek as you thought back to your argument. It started off so little.. and you had blown it out of proportion- with Dabi's help of course. You both did something wrong, but you both were justified in your frustration.

Sighing, you quietly cried into Dabi's pillow as you wondered if you would ever see Dabi in person again.

~

You didn't see Dabi for the rest of the day. Or the rest of the week.. or the next. Several weeks passed by as you worriedly waited for him, guilt eating you alive. You sent him three texts every day, trying to call him at least once. The messages started to build up, and with every unopened text you started to feel less and less hopeful.

It was about two months after the argument. You were texting him yet another apology. You kept it short and sweet, it was only a few sentences but showed your great concern and love.

Babygirl: Goodnight my love, I miss you. I'm really sorry that I was so insensitive. I hope you're doing well.

You expected it to be left unopened, but to your surprise, it changed to 'read' several seconds after you sent it. Hope bubbled in your chest as you stared at your phone, your body cozily tucked into bed.

As the minutes pass by you slowly start to fall asleep, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. Slowly blinking your eyes, the last thing you saw before falling asleep was Dabi's smirking profile picture.

~~

A small tapping sound roused you from your slumber. Blinking your eyes in confusion, you thought you imagined the sound and closed your eyes again. The sound repeated itself, this time a bit louder. Sitting up, you look around, yawning.

Sighing, you stand up and flick the light on. Looking around, you notice a dark silhouette in the window. Moving closer, you recognize Dabi's face. Opening the window, your breath hitched in your throat as you stare face to face with Dabi. Stepping back, you silently let him in.

As Dabi hopped through the window you watched him as he closed and locked your window before placing his duffle bag down, his eyes focussed on the ground.

"Baby?" You ask softly, placing a hand on Dabi's shoulder. He slightly flinched, but his eyes looked up to meet yours. "I'm really sorry for my part of things." You whisper, caressing his cheek with your other hand. His eyes softened.

Dabi opened his mouth to speak, before pausing and letting out a sigh. "It's fine. Let's just forget it." He placed his hands on your waist.

"No, baby I know I hurt you. And I'm sorry." You move your other hand so you were now holding his face in your hands, staring him dead in the eye. "I'm sorry, and I won't justify my actions. The way I downplayed your childhood was messed up and so so wrong of me."

Dabi stared at you, his turquoise eyes hiding his real emotions.

"C'mon.. please, talk to me. Don't hide your feelings..."

"I'm honestly over it.. but I think I'm sick.. there's this ache in my chest whenever I think about how I yelled at you, or how I just left.."

"There's an.. ache? Like in your heart?"

"Yep. I bet I won't live long." Dabi sighed, kissing your forehead.

Bursting out laughing, you nuzzle your nose against Dabi's. "Silly, you aren't dying. That feeling means that you feel guilty, and that you're sorry."

"Guilty.. that's a new feeling."

"I love you, and I hope you can forgive me."

"I love you too, and you are already forgiven." Dabi murmured, holding your chin as he kissed you softly.

~~~~~

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~~~~~

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.

[pumcafe]

Casual

Content Contains: NSFW, fem reader, first person, casual fling comes back around, Ging is a deadbeat even to his lovers, reader is angry, slight possessiveness, oral (reader receives), cum inside, does this even make sense? 

Word Count: 3.6k (short) 

The incessant knocking on my door that pulled me out of my sleep left a scowl on my face that only grew once I saw the culprit. “Why are you here?” It was less of a question, carrying a tone of disdain towards the man standing in front of me.

“What? Didn’tcha miss me?” He pushed past me before kicking his shoes off and throwing his rain-soaked coat on the floor by my feet. The splash of the  cold, wet rain sent a shiver up my leg.  My lip curled up further.

“Maybe three months ago the answer could’ve been ‘Yes Ging, oh I missed you so much! Gimme a smooch!’ Now I feel more like beating your ass,” I slammed the door before locking it. 

He didn’t look back at me but just laughed. “My clothes still in that bedside dresser? I’m soaked here.” 

I rubbed my face aggressively, restraining myself from beating at his back. “Why. Are. You. Here,” I spoke through gritted teeth. There was a time where I longed for Ging, a time where he could’ve come in and out of my home and I would be there every time to welcome his return; that time was now long gone I convinced myself. 

This time he did look back, already halfway towards my bedroom, “I was passing by and figured I’d stop in.” My jaw began to hurt as my back teeth ground together. That dumbass smile he had made my blood boil, he had no shame. 

I stomped in after him; he already had his shirt off and was working on his pants as his leftover clothes were strewn across my bed. “See? I knew they were still here,” he turned to face me, “Couldn’t forget such fond memories, huh?” My teeth felt like they were gonna break in half at any moment.

“Change and get out, you can’t stay. Oh, and don’t forget to take your clothes this time,” I sternly stated before turning back around. I felt his hand wrap around my wrist. I froze momentarily at how quick he was. 

I turned to see Ging still shirtless, his pants unbuckled and his boxers exposed. I fought to keep my eyes locked on his, “You don’t have to be so sour with me.” 

I tried my best to stay composed. I sighed, “You disappeared for three months, no one could find you. No letters, no calls, nothing. You really expect me to not move on at all during a time like that?” 

His face dropped for a second before he raised one eyebrow slightly, “Move on?” He sounded like he didn’t believe me. 

I maintained my confidence, “Yes, move on. As in; I found someone else, someone more stable.” It was a lie. In reality, I hadn’t been able to talk to anyone, wasting each night staying up late with the hopes that Ging would come knocking at my door like he did tonight. However, somewhere in the last couple of weeks, the painstaking yearning turned into anger; I promised myself I’d slam the door on his face and tell him to suck one. I cursed myself for failing at the first part.

Ging tilted his head to the side, tch. “Who?” 

My body grew rigid since I knew Ging was able to see right through me, but I couldn’t stop here. “You wouldn’t know him, he’s just a regular, civilian office worker.” A cold sweat began to form on the back of my neck, why was I so nervous?  

A soft chuckle left his mouth, “So where is he?” He made a point to look around, pointing out that there was no reminder of any other man but him in my house.

“He travels a lot. Besides, we’re in the beginning of a relationship. We decided to take it slow and not leave our stuff at each others’ places,” I shrugged, trying to stay cool. Both of us knew this wasn’t true, we both knew there was no one else. I couldn’t help but to avoid his gaze. “Anyway, you can’t stay here, get moving,” I moved to grab the doorknob, but Ging’s hand on the door kept it from opening.

“So when he travels, it’s not an issue? We both do it for work?” He was teasing me. 

I sucked in a harsh breath, “Because he communicates. He tells me when he’s leaving, where he’s going, and he even talks to me during the trips,” my voice carried a harsh, sarcastic tone. Ging definitely knew that my words were quips at his behavior. 

His breath fell on the back of my ear, “How long are we gonna play pretend this time?” 

I huffed, resisting the urge to just give in right then and there. “Until you stop going ghost,” I complained, “I’m tired of your act, I want something more firm, something I don’t have to wait weeks to months for.”

Ging was silent for a moment, and at that time I felt like I could suddenly cry. It was just casual between us, always had been, but why now had my chest grown tight with aching hope that one day he’d stay. 

“I know that’s not what you’re looking for, you’re not looking to be stuck in one place, and that’s certainly not what I’m asking. In fact, I’d never ask for you to be tied down to one place; I know how much discovering new things in the world means to you, I could never take that away from you. But…” I rambled aimlessly to fill the heavy air with something other than silent breaths, “I can’t do this casual shit anymore. I’d like to be the one you’d come home to after doing whatever you hunters do.” No longer feeling like talking, my last sentence grew quieter. My forehead pressed against the door as I screwed my eyes shut, I wanted to evaporate with my confession. 

Ging’s lips wordlessly pressed lightly against the back of my neck as he slowly made his way to the slope of my shoulder. My face contorted into confusion, my chest began to rise and fall faster. “W-what are you doing?”

His hand slid down the door and onto my shoulder, pulling gently so I would turn around to face him. His eyelids hung low as we made eye contact. “Then let’s not do casual,” he husked. 

Confused on what he meant, I raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying?” 

Ging sighed as if the meaning was obvious, “You said that you couldn’t do casual anymore, and I’m saying then let’s stop doing casual stuff. We can be more… solid.”

I felt like my brain was going to short circuit. “Look,” he began again, “we can work out the specifics later, but what I’m saying is… if you want to try something more settled…” 

I wrapped my arms tightly around Ging’s neck, pressing my body tightly against him. He stumbled backwards at the sudden action, but his hands quickly fell around my waist. 

“I take it as that’s what you wanted to hear?” 

I bashfully flicked his arm, “You shouldn’t say it just because I want to hear it,” I pouted. 

He put one hand on my cheek to gently push my face to look back at him. “I meant it too though,” his voice was low. “Believe it or not, I do miss you when I’m gone,” he smiled a little. 

I felt my heart beat against my chest roughly at the confession. I rolled my eyes playfully, “Of course you’d miss me,” I smirked.

This time, Ging rolled his eyes. I waited for a response, however, both of Ging’s hands grasped firmly on my ass instead. My fingers pulled on the collar of his shirt as I let out a gasp of surprise.

“How arrogant,” he squinted his eyes at me.

“Now that’s hypocritical,” I deadpanned, my tone was still slightly playful— he was still calling the kettle black.

“You love how confident I am though,” he raised a brow as if he was inviting me to deny it. I wanted to, but Ging’s confidence was a turn on most of the time. 

Ging chuckled when I didn’t outright disagree. “But I know it wasn’t my confidence you missed,” his hands now snuck under my panties, fondling the lower half of my ass. My cheeks grew hot and I quickly buried my face into Ging’s shoulder.

“Aweee,” he tutted, “now you’re so shy.” He chuckled as one of his fingers ran between my pussy lips. He faked a gasp, “You’re so wet already! Is this why you try picking fights with me?” My breathing picked up at the sensation of his fingertips passing over my clit, lazily moving back and forth. 

Jaw pulled taut, I attempted to keep my sounds minimal. There was no way I was going to give him the satisfaction this easily at least. 

“Hm,” Ging hummed before plunging a finger inside of my wet hole. My breath hitched and my knees nearly buckled. “Whoa,” the male exclaimed as his other hand grasped my waist to steady me. Ging’s finger pumped in and out of me, and despite my earlier resolve, soft moans began pouring from my lips. 

“There we go,” his voice was low, “Why try to pretend that I’m not making your little pussy feel good?” I scowled at him, hating his fake pout. He just laughed and continued to pump his finger mercilessly into me. 

My thighs grew wet as my panties could no longer hold in my slick. cringed at the stickiness of the fabric, embarrassed at how easily Ging could turn me into a mess. He added a second finger, “Gotta prepare you again.”

I clamped down on Ging’s fingers, my moans growing loud as I felt a tightness beginning to form in my stomach. The last time I had a proper release was my last night with Ging, so I embarrassingly reached the start of my climax relatively quickly. 

Then, Ging pulled his hand away from my aching cunt. I whined at the sudden emptiness.

He chuckled while shaking his head, “Sorry doll, but I need you on my tongue, it’s been too long.” He was pushing my bottoms off before I could let out any more sounds of protest. 

Ging grabbed my hands and led me to my bed, I pretended to not notice his slick fingers. In one motion, he had pushed the clothes he was preparing to change into on the bed. Internally, I sighed at the thought of his dry clothes now becoming wet due to the contact with his old ones. 

“Face down,” Ging’s command brought me back to reality. 

“What?” I questioned sincerely.

Ging gave me a gentle tap on my ass, “Face down, ass up. And spread your knees.” My hands clenched and unclenched into fists as I climbed on top of the bed, trying to force away any timidity. I quickly spread my knees apart and hid my face. 

Ging gently pressed my face into the pillow. I felt my face grow unbearably hot at the exposed nature of the pose; my ass up and my legs spread wide open in front of his eyes. I bit down on the pillow, cringing. 

I sharply inhaled at the long brush of Ging’s tongue from my clit up to my perineum. My hand reached back, desperate to push him away. He grabbed my wrist and held my hand back, “Nuh huh,” he mumbled into my pussy, “I’m not stopping.” 

“B-be gentle!” I begged him. 

He gave a short snicker before pinning my arm to the bed, “Only nice girls get gentle sex, doll.” Ging continued to relentlessly lap at my aching cunt, his saliva and my slick starting to run down my thighs. “I gotta get that attitude out first.” 

My body temperature proceeded to grow with every movement of Ging’s tongue. I already felt the tightening from earlier reemerging within my stomach. My hips bucked earnestly onto Ging’s face, each whimper and moan giving him more and more encouragement to grow rougher with his tongue. 

The pillow wasn’t enough to muffle my struggling cries as I shook at the pressure releasing. Ging momentarily slowed down, allowing me to ride out my orgasm on his tongue peacefully. 

But he didn’t stop. And after a couple of laps, his tongue began to pick up the pace once more. 

I groaned at the unending licks, only to cry out at the reintroduction of Ging’s two fingers. He pressed them deeply into my cunt— he chuckled at the way I twitched when he went down to his knuckles.

Whimpering into the pillow, my eyes brimmed with tears now. I began to clamp down again, “Give me one more, let me know how good I’m making this pussy feel,” he fingered more aggressively, his thumb pressing roughly down on my clit. The thought of him watching me in such a state was hazing my mind. I wanted to tell him to look away, but the words would never leave my lips. It was always agitating that he could see how quickly I’d become undone for him.

The familiar feeling of my tightening stomach began to form once more. Ging groaned at the tightness from my walls clamping against his fingers. “Right there hm? Who’s making you feel good?” My cheeks burned from the question.

I searched my brain for the ability to form words, “Y-you…” I mumbled quietly into the pillow.

He curled his fingers harshly, my back arched and I cried out for him. “You!” I was gasping for air, my body felt like it was on fire. 

He let a short breath out of his nose, “And are you gonna cum for me?” 

I nodded my head quickly in response. I felt my eyes screw shut as the orgasm approached before my response could leave my lips. My legs shook as my hands pulled the sheets from their secured positions on my bed. I felt my slick run down my thighs once I finally began to regain the ability to think. 

“Good girl, you did so good for me,” he cooed softly while pulling out his fingers. I felt his body slide on top of mine, his chest pressing against my back. I lazily opened my eyes and glanced back at him. “Lick,” he commanded. I opened my mouth and obeyed. My tongue swirled around the digits as he thrusted his fingers in and out of my mouth. “So obedient once you’re done right.” He seemed content with himself.

Sharply I inhaled at the feeling of his cock rubbing up and down my sensitive clit. “Now you’re gonna lay here and get fucked out, right baby?” His warm breath was brushing against the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine. 

“Mhm,” I agreed, my face only half up from the pillow. The tip of his cock pressed against my hole, threatening to push further in at any moment. The anxiety built up in the lower half of my core while I clenched around the air. 

“Beg me for it, beg me to make you a mess,” one of his hands was in my hair, gently tugging to lift my head so I could speak clearly. 

My mouth still struggled over the words, “Please… p-please put your dick in me,” I whispered.

Tch, he sucked on his teeth. “You can do better than that,” his cock spread my pussy lips apart as he rubbed himself against me. The strokes were enough to drive me insane.

“Please fuck your cock into me Ging, please please please make me yours,” I pleaded, looking back to make eye contact with him.

His face broke out in a grin before he began to shove the entire length of his cock into me. I choked out a cry while my hands pulled harder on the sheets, desperate for something to cling on to. 

Gong’s hips moved without much time for me to once again get used to the size of his cock. His moves were slow and sort of gentle at first, but it only took a few thrusts for him to sing out a string of curses before snapping his hips into me. I screamed into the pillow at his aggressive and deep thrusts. 

“Look at you, ah fuck, taking me so well,” he pushed his body up and sat his hands on top of mine, intertwining our fingers. I tightened my grip around his fingers as my mind cleared everything but the feeling of sex; the way Ging’s skin bounced off of mine as he hit into my ass, the way sweat rolled off his body and onto mine, his tongue on my ear lobe to soothe the skin as an apology for biting too roughly. 

Sounds of our moaning and my cunt getting pounded filled the room. “Listen to how turned on you are,” Ging grunted. “Your pussy, fuck, is telling me— damn you feel so good, how much she missed me,” he let out a chuckle that was quickly interrupted by a moan.

The pornographic sounds of skin pounding against skin mixed in with the sounds of the pouring rain. I buried my face down further into the pillow, desperate to hide away from the wet noises my pussy made every time Ging thrusted in.

His hands traveled from my fingers to my elbows before he pulled my arms back gently to lift me off the bed. Ging’s strength always took me by surprise. 

“Don’t run away from it angel, I want you to hear it,” I could practically hear his ego skyrocketing with every moan he pounded out of me. My body felt too warm with embarrassment and arousal.

“I-I can’t for m-much longer,” I whined out. Ging just let out a low hum as his hips bucked harder into my poor cunt. I prayed my neighbors couldn’t hear; however if Ging caught on to me trying to keep quiet, he’d only go rougher. 

My walls clamped down tighter after every thrust, causing Ging to groan out and tighten his grip on my arms. I hissed at the new introduction of pain, I knew that they’d be red after this. I didn’t think about that for long though as the familiar feeling of yet another orgasm began to flow through my abdomen. My body began to tremble as I tried to fight off the sensation, not wanting to cum before Ging.

“Do it,” he snapped me out of my thoughts with a grunt; of course he could tell when I was close by this point, “Fucking cum for me— show me just how good I’m making you feel.” It was as if he had more control over my body than I did. With a choked out cry, I came. I whimpered and arched my back as he fucked me through my orgasm, not once slowing.

Relief quickly turned to overwhelming pressure as Ging continued to pound mercilessly into my pussy. He loosened his grip on my arms, allowing me to crash back into the pillows. One of his hands snaked down to the small of my back before he began to press down on the area for me to arch more. “Look at you now,” his patronizing tone caused me to weakly clench around his twitching cock. 

He was close now, I could tell by the way every other thrust would cause him to jerk more into me, or how his breathing was much more strained as his fingers tensed and relaxed. “Good fucking girl, you’re so good for me,” his hips snapped forward, “You were just so fucking pent up without me here, huh?”

I mewled in response, helpless under Ging as he began to press his body weight down onto me— his chest meeting my back. “Fuck fuck fuck,” his voice rung in my ear as his pelvis moved faster, jerking a couple of times before he bottomed out inside of me. My eyes fluttered closed in relief as the pounding stopped. 

He huffed a few times before slowly pushing himself up and off of me, careful not to pull all the way out. Slowly, he pulled me towards him. My body felt heavy as my muscles relaxed, but he made me feel weightless with how easy he could manhandle me. I lazily smiled as I felt his chest press against my back once more. 

We laid there for a few moments. Ging’s soft breathing along with the rain gently beating on my window was enough to cause me to become engulfed in sleep.

I woke up to an empty bed. An exhaustive sigh pushed past my lips as I held onto the pillow Ging slept on. “What did I really expect?” I spoke to the empty air. 

“Who are you talking to?” Ging’s voice caused me to jump up, he was leaning on the bedroom’s doorframe. I sat there with the pillow high above my head— I had stopped myself from throwing it at him. “Jeez, it’s just me; why are you so jumpy?” He grinned before walking over to the bed and sliding his body over mine. “Did you think I left?” 

I sucked on my teeth before rolling over, “Nah,” I tried to hide the smile spreading across my face. 

“You totally did!” He exclaimed. I felt my eye begin to twitch in annoyance.

“Did not!” I huffed, “There’s no way you’d leave after a night last night,” I said confidently.

“Huh,” he squeezed my waist slightly, “I remember that I was the one who did the fucking.” My jaw clenched as memories of last night washed over my brain. “Unless you wanna do it this time.” He pressed his stiffening cock into my backside. 

I covered my flushed face with the pillow. 

[satanwritesfanfiction]

Paladin Danse x f!reader || Under you || SMUT

Title: Under you

Rating: explicit, smut

Category: f/m

Fandom: Fallout 4

Relationship: reader x Danse (can be read as ss x Danse)

Characters: Danse, reader

Tags/ triggers: smut, pwp, power dynamics in a sense that he outranks her in bos and that's used as a flimsy thread for pwp??, desk time, p in v, doggy, threat of being caught, injury that's basically forgotten halfway through, argument, ooc

Wordcount: 2800

a/n: the first fanfic for fallout and first time writing in a while so its has its issues but we ignore that for the serotonins my boiiii Danse gives me

***

Opening the door to Danse's quaters onboard the Prydwen, you were greeted with his back towards you, broad shoulders covered by his BOS uniform. It wasn't every day you were faced with the realities of him outside of his armour.

However, you didn't look forward to this conversation given how he had left you at Knight-Captain Cade To get stitched up. His disappointment wasn't without merit, you had disregarded that order but with good reason, the civilians were the priority to you, not your own sensibilities of survival or self preservation.

You cleared your throat as you moved your hands to hook at your back. "Danse."You closed your eyes briefly and took a breath. "..Paladin Danse." You stated, keeping the clench of your teeth out of your voice as best you could ad you took the formal route.

He turned to regard you, eyes raking over you in a way that made you feel small before he took a breath.

"Did Knight-Captain Cade clear you?" He inquired, voice void of emotion as the remnants of the battle still courses through him, the images of your body bruised and bloody, the results still shining on the arch of your brow prominently. It's been a few hours and he's kept busy but it lingers on him, haunts him in a way he hadn't anticipated.

"Yes." You stated. "Well after few days rest, its honestly not even that bad Danse." You pulled against your shirt to reveal the stitched wound on your stomach, slight redness to the skin but nothing that would cause any worry. "Few days and I'll be back to kicking ass like I never even left."

Danse stood frozen for a moment, hands tightening ever so slightly at the clipboard he was holding at the sight of the exposed skin, knowing he shouldn't feel this way and much less when it was such an innocent gesture on your part when all you wanted to do was set his mind at ease. But the problem was that he had imagined it, had imagined his hands curled around that very skin, indenstations on your hips, on the smooth skin.

He knew his duties and what should take precedence but thoughts sometimes got a bit jumbled around you, feeling something growing in his chest, movement within in a way he couldn't decipher, anger at your actions and fear at your failures which he could argue was because of his role as your sponsor but he knew there was more to it and he should probably create some distance... but at the same time he had been elated when you asked him to accompany you on your outtings.

"That's.. uh that's good. "he stated, averting his eyes for a moment to think as he cleared his throat. "We still need to discuss your performance on the battlefield today, (Y/n).“ he took on the professional demeanor as he placed the clipboard on a nearby surface.

"I understand." You stated as you moved a few paces in his direction.

"You failed to follow a direct order." He stated. "You know what I told you when I chose to sponsor you. You are my responsibility and I can't have you-" he sighed and ran his hand over his face as he boiled at the thought. "You have a duty to this team."

It was definitely not an opportune moment as you watched him chastise you to feel the warmth in your body, the firmness in his stance, the power as he spoke. The brief flashes of when he carried your body to safety. Your attraction to the man was your own issue to deal with but it always creeps up when you need it the least.

You had imagined it was the lack of action that had you so wanton for the man but after a few nights with your hand between your legs with his name on your tongue and even a few drunken nights in goodneighbour, you had come to the conclusion that there had to be a little more to it than that but even so, the knowledge didn't stop the way you felt weak with his attention solely on you, it didn't stop your gaze from lingering or the butterflies in your stomach as his voice carried within the room.

You swallowed. "There were civilians, Danse. I could not let them be another casualty of war."

"You shouldn't have disobeyed." He stated firmly, brows furrowed as his voice raised slightly. "We would've-"

"They would've died." You interrupted. "You can't expect me to watch that happen when we could-"

He was always softer when it came to you, he knew that, he would wager that you knew it as well. He dismissed and even ignored many actions that might've seemed harsh in anothers eyes but nothing quite like the action he would commit when his lips met yours, a quick action that his mind couldn't quite compute but at the same time he felt vindicated. An entirely unprofessional offense against much of what he told himself and how he arrived to behave but you felt so real with his hands pressed to the side of your face, so soft pressed to his lips, so warm and pliable when you didn't pull away.

"You need to learn your place." He whispered against your lips as he pulled away, hands falling to your hips and pressing into the flesh. So many thoughts circling that were both impure and against the ideals of the brotherhood when it came to subordinates and colleagues.

You bit into your lip as you looked up at him, not quite the place you saw the conversation moving but it was definitely not unwelcome, just surpising and a little distracting with the way his fingers pressed into you, causing your brain to play catch up and wonder if this was real or not and whether you could push forth in the direction you desperately wanted to go.

"Are you gonna show me where that is?“ you whispered, breathe feeling like it was sucked from your body as you anticipated his reaction. Damn the pulsing between your legs that could have you on your knees in front of this man with a mere motion, a mere sliver that he wouldn't reject it.

He was quick to move you after the question, pressing you against the desk and hovering above you as a few small objects from his desk tumbled to the floor.

"Do you want me to?“ he asked, searching your expression for any sign of discomfort, wondering if he read the situation wrong, part of him wanting you to be the one to stop this so he didn't go against any of the bos ideals but hoping to whatever merciless god was out there that you wouldn't.

"Yeah.."you said softly, pushing through some forced confidence as you cleared your throat, meeting his eyes with a new form of what you hoped was seen as assurance. "Yes."

He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes stayed trained on you, an act that felt soft and intimate in the way silence fell until his hand slipped into your hair, grip tightening and crashing his lips to yours once more. You gave as fervently as you got, hands pressed to his chest.

His own hand lingered at your chest, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt and easily pulling it over your head and then came the bra, frustration evident as his need for you grew. An array of pushing and prodding as the frustration lingered in veins at the limitation the pieces of cloth supplied.

Finally he manages to push the small piece of clothing from your body to some place on the floor, watching you sit on his desk like this with an expression that anyone would call wanton. His hand cupped your breast in his hand, watching as you worried your lip between your teeth at the action. Softness even in sound when he ran his thumb over the bud.

He had been gentle in the journey to get you somewhat undressed but he hadn't forgotten the comment that lead him here, the boil within his blood at the thought of your actions and the unobstructed sight of the wound now before him. The image of you had not been enough to still the turmoil within him. The kindness he valued in you was the thing that would disregard order and yourself which brought him to this bridge but he could easily show you order, power, even show you your place as he had said. He would not be entirely wrong to say you place was under him but perhaps not in the sense that he would like and would enforce tonight.

He quickly undid the button of your pants, hands wrapping around your hips at a lingering thought, the need growing within him, a grip that lingered but didn't alarm you as he pulled you towards him but then a sudden shift as the direction changed, as he flipped you around, using his body to press you to the desk, hand pressing against against your upper back until you took the position he wanted. The new position added an ache to the wound on your torso, slight hiss that you doubt he even heard.

The desk was cool against your breast, anticipation as you kept yourself pressed to the surface, eyes looking behind at the man and only feeling the anticipation and want grow as his eyes travelled across your body.

"Such disobedience." He murmured as his hands slid down your back, fingers hooking in the waist and of the pants and pulling it over the curve of your ass along with your underwear. "Perhaps I had been too lenient with you." He stated, a tone that didn't quite match the content as his hands spread over your ass and squeezed. He lowered himself over your body, chest ghosting over your back as his lips pressed close to your ear and his own bulge pressing against your back side so temptingly. "I should correct that misstep, shouldn't I. Show you what insubordination gets you." He punctuated the word with the grind of his hips to yours.

You bit your lip as you spread your legs as much as you could given the pants around your thighs limiting your movement. Needing him to touch you in any way he wished, to use your body just as long as he touched you without all the layers between you.

The press of him eased up when he fiddled with his uniform, fighting to pry it from his body as quickly as possible at the sight of your pliable form. He hadn't bothered further than getting it passed his hips. For a moment he was dumbstruck, so many things he wanted but the uncertainty of whether he would get such a perfect opportunity to enact them made him slow to act, pressing two fingers to your entrance and spreading your slick and shallowly pressing into you to test the waters.

A whimper sounded past your lips as you closed your eyes at the feeling. It had been so long since someone else had touched you and though you had the nights where you had came around your fingers at the thought of him, it was miles apart from this, from his warm fingers spreading your cunt.

"That's a good girl."He commented, watching as his fingers disappear into your needy cunt, glistening in the light when he retracted, soft whimpers spilling from your lips and body rocking back against him softly. You were so compliant like this, such a pretty image that he would definitely be revisiting at a later time.

He removed his fingers from you, earning an annoyed sound and a glance back, he couldn't hide his glee at the state he could leave you in but at the same time, he needed to be inside you, needed you to clench around his cock and take him like you were meant to.

His hand wrapped around your hip, the other going to his cock and lining up. He pushed in slowly, groaning at the wetness until he settled, hips pressed to yours. The situation led you to believe he would give the time for you to adjust, he had always been accommodating and he had taken his time with pushing into you but he had other plans, other wants to allowed him to bypass that courtesy.

His hand slipped into your hair and tightened, pressing you to the desk if you just so happen to get any other ideas. His hips snapped, shallowly at first as he got used to the tightness. You cried out at the feeling, the pain that got dwarfed by the pleasure and he quickly pressed a hand over your mouth to silence your cries as he pressed closer to your ear.

"Wouldn't want anyone to come see what's wrong, would we?" He granted against your back, teeth scratching against your shoulder blade as he momentarily slowed his movements. "This is quite the position for a knight to be in."

Your hand wrapped around his wrist as his hips picked up the pace, closing your eyes as you took what he gave, imagining if someone did walk in, perhaps a scribe or Cade or even Maxson, seeing Danse give it to you, perhaps they could corroborate that this was real because it felt like you were floating, like he was splitting your skull in half and all you could do was think about how fucking full of him you felt. Punishment be damned, you needed them to know Danse was fucking you, that he chose you even if just a momentary lapse.

Suddenly he pulled out, flipping you over like you weighed nothing, you bit into your lip at the full sight of him, bare chest and cock at attention. He, on the other hand, had no notions of taking in the moment, taking hold of your legs and pressing them to your chest so he could get easy access to that tight cunt of yours, immediately pressing home at the first opportunity.

You moaned at the feeling, pressing your palm to your lips given his previous comments even with your own voyeuristic fantasies and the need to have him do it, to control every aspect of the situation, to set the perimeter and feel his hand press to the sides of your face as you just laid there and took it.

He could feel his end approaching, hand pressing and prodding at your skin at the thought of losing access, finally lingering at your clit at the thought of you coming on his cock.

"Hold this." He commanded, taking your free hand and wrapping it around your legs. You did as you were told, glossy eyes watching the man before you and then keening when he touched you, thumb rubbing against your clit in fast, tight circles and you knew you were done for.

"Danse.." you cried, hand slipping from your lips as you moaned into the air, neither of you seeming to care at the moment as his hips snapped into you with renewed vigor at the sound of his name falling from your lips. "Please-I.."

"I know." He stated, interuppting your train of thought. "Be a good girl and come for me."

Again, you did as he asked, feeling the warmth spread throughout your limbs as your walls clenched around him. The cry that left your lips would most likely be heard past his door followed by the mantra of his name as you fought through the intense emotion.

He had to fight to keep moving past the the clench of you, giving a few shallow thrusts before he came inside of you, ropes of his come hitting your walls as he stilled deep inside of you with a grunt of your name.

A few moments passed of heavy breathing before he pulled out, watching as his come slipped out of you which he promptly pushed back inside of you with two fingers which elicited a whimper from you.

Coming back to his sensibilities, he retracted from you, softly removing your hand from your legs and setting them to the floor and pulling you to a seating position. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and pulled your pants back over your hips and then picked you up bridal style, wordlessly. He hoped you were alright, that he hadn't made a mistake by giving into his most base desires for you. He cared for you and he hoped for more than the structure provided under this militarristic life but that was a whole other can of worms.

He placed you in his bed, getting in behind you and wrapping an arm around your middle. He could steal this moment, could he not. If you were to resent him for his actions, at least he could pretend in this moment as you fall asleep pressed to his chest.

[mandos-mind-trick]

The Video - Part 2

Summary: You and Cody race to do damage control after his mistake.

Pairing: Commander Cody x reader

Warnings: Lots of mentions of a sex tape, excessive use of the word ass, men being gross (not clones though they're gentlemen...well...most of them), may give you secondhand embarrassment, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, feelings, okay it's mostly a crackfic more than anything else

A/N: Whatever aligned in the universe that allowed me to pump out 4k words today after a week of nothing, bless you. The long awaited sequel. I decided not to add in smut since it didn't really feel right. It's kinda serious with lots of jokes thrown in to lighten it up. Also a few hints at some...things, so...if you can figure those out then cookies for you!!

< Previous | MASTERLIST

You hit him with surprising strength. Maybe it was the anger burning through you, or perhaps it was the shock he had to be feeling that left him so vulnerable and allowed for you to force him into the supply closet rather easily. 

“What the fuck did you do?” You hiss at him under your breath as soon as the door closes. 

He’s standing there, wide eyed and lips parted as he tries to process what he had just seen. You’re angry. Beyond angry. It burns through you red hot, heating your entire body so much you feel like you’re standing next to an open fire. Shame also burns through you, fueling the fire. The entire GAR has seen parts of you that were meant to be kept private. Though it would be impossible for anyone to figure out it was you, the knowledge that likely even GAR command and the Generals have seen you naked by this point is enough to send you spiraling. 

“How the fuck did this happen, Cody?” You breathe, trying to calm yourself enough that you don’t punch the Marshal Commander standing in front of you. 

“I-I don’t know.” He says, running a hand through his hair, brows furrowing in stress. “I swear I dropped it into my private files.” 

“Well, you obviously didn’t!” You snap, not even feeling guilty when he flinches. “Now my bare ass is all over the GAR network.” 

“It’s a nice ass.” He shrugs. 

He nearly folds under your glare. You could probably scare the General with a look like that. 

“Fix this.” You grit out from between your teeth. 

He nods slowly, brain trying to get over the shock of what had happened and formulate a plan at the same time. “Right. I can access the GAR servers and delete the video. That will prevent anyone from accessing it and downloading it. Of course, if it’s already been downloaded, then that’s going to pose an issue.” 

“Yeah? Figure that out too.” You take a deep breath, holding it for a moment before you let it out. “I’m going to go do my job and when I’m done, that video better be history.” You command. 

He has half a mind to salute you, but you might actually hit him. 

***

You hate it. Every person you pass, clone or civilian, on the way from the barracks to the hangar is a reminder of what happened. They’ve likely all seen the video. You wouldn’t be surprised if it made it past the confines of the GAR and onto the holoweb for anyone in the galaxy to see.

You can just imagine the title it’s been bestowed with. 

“Hot chick bangs clone trooper.” 

“Human girl takes huge clone dick.” 

“Barrack bunny commands clone trooper in bed.” 

“Sexy civilian fucks the brain right out of a Marshal Commander causing him to accidentally upload their sex tape onto the GAR server.” 

You want to scream. You had screamed into your pillow before exiting the barracks. You could scream again. You could scream until you have no voice left. 

You curse hyperspace as you make your way into the hangar. If the ship had still been docked on Coruscant, you might have just packed your bag and deserted the army. Hidden out in the underworld until it was safe for you to emerge. If you emerged at all. Instead you’re stuck on this floating prison hurtling at light speed through hyperspace to its next battle with all of its inhabitants replaying your sex tape over and over. 

You really want to scream as you spot your fellow civilian mechanics all huddled around a datapad. You don’t have to approach to know what they’re watching. Everyone was watching it.

“Hey, have you seen the video?” One of your coworkers asks as you grab a different datapad. 

You fight the inner panic rising. You have to play this cool. Any strange behavior or answer might make them suspicious. “Yeah.” You answer, not looking up. “Who hasn’t?” 

“Kriff, I wish that were me.” Another one says. “She’s so hot!” 

Your hands tighten just a little around the datapad. Being forced into a room of people watching the video was hard enough. The commentary is going to make you snap. 

“Who do you think it is?” Your coworker asks as he leans his arm on your shoulder. 

“Don’t know.” You duck out from under him, nearly making him fall over. “All I’ve heard is it’s probably some barrack bunny.” Saying it nearly has your cheeks burning again. 

“Whoever she is, I’d like to know so I can hit her up, if you know what I mean.” He wiggles his eyebrows, the others all laughing. 

“We have work to do.” You snap, holding up the datapad in your hand. “We have inspections to do and not a lot of time to do them.” 

They all grumble, but they know you’re right. If you can’t get the inspection report to the Admiral in time, you’ll all have hell to pay. 

“You’re awful tense this morning.” Your coworker says as he follows you to the nearest gunship. 

“We have a lot to do before the boys can ship out.” You say. “And you’re sitting around watching porn.” 

“We’re just having fun.” He shrugs. 

“Have fun on shore leave.” You push the datapad into his chest a little too hard. “You’re on duty as soon as you step on this ship.” 

“Obviously not everyone agrees with that.” Another coworker says as he passes by, making everyone laugh. 

You’re fuming. You had thought you could play it cool, but you should have known better. You’re one of the few women on this ship, the others all being medics. Of course they wouldn’t care about some poor girl being broadcast across the GAR for anyone to see, regardless of who it was. 

You should have gone to medical school. 

“Aww man. It’s gone.” Someone complains. 

You step around a gunship out of sight, leaning against the side. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, the tenseness of your shoulders easing. At least Cody had managed that bit. 

“Don’t worry, I downloaded it.” 

The relief is gone.

***

“I know the food’s bad, but I don’t think glaring at it is going to change anything.” 

You nearly jump as a tray is placed next to yours. You look stressed, you know you do. You had barely managed to get through half of the day between your coworkers comments and the video constantly being replayed around you despite it being removed from the server. 

Waxer and Boil seat themselves on either side of you. Two clone troopers you were hoping to avoid. It wasn’t that you didn’t like them. You love Waxer and Boil. They never cease to make you laugh and you consider them your friends. But you know they’re going to want to talk about the video. The last thing you want to do right now is talk about the video. You’re at your limit, and you might do something stupid. 

“The General is calling a meeting later.” Waxer says. “I bet it’s about the video.” 

“I overheard Cody saying all the Legions are holding meetings to talk about it.” Boil says. “Probably gonna come up with some kind of punishment for watching it on duty.” 

Good. You think. At least that way you could avoid it during the work day. Of course, you’ll have to avoid common areas for a while.

“We’ve got a plan, though.” Boil continues. 

Your breath catches in your lungs. Your hand tightens around your fork, the lumps of “food” on your tray looking even less appetizing than they had moments ago. 

“We’re going to figure out who it is.” Waxer says, leaning in close. “We’ve already got some headway in our quest.” 

You take a sip of your drink, wishing it was something much stronger. “Like what?” You ask, cursing the way your voice shakes. 

Boil pulls out a datapad, setting it up right in front of you so all three of you can see. You wish you could be anywhere but here right now he pulls up screenshots of the video. Thankfully they’re zoomed in, any shots of your body, or Cody’s are unrecognizable and blurry. 

Boil flips through screenshot after screenshot. “It’s definitely a commander, whoever it was.” He says. “These are commander's quarters on a starship. And it’s definitely a clone.” He says, flipping through very zoomed in shots of Cody’s lower body. 

“Too bad she’s human. Would have been really easy to figure out who it was if she wasn’t.” Waxer says, wiggling his brows. 

You know what they’re implying. They probably deserve a reprimand for even suggesting it, for speaking about a General and a commander in that way, but you don’t have it in you to scold them. Besides, it’s not exactly a secret that rumors float around about the 327th. 

You can’t say much, you’re fucking a Marshal Commander of the GAR. Well, you were. 

Cody will be lucky if you let him within breathing distance of you ever again. 

“We’re looking at any possible identifying marks on either of them.” Waxer says. “We may be clones, but we do have subtle differences.” 

“Besides, I’m not likely to forget a body like that.” Boil says, whistling lowly as he flips to a screenshot of you on your stomach, the curves of your body very visible from the angle.

You wore your loosest fitting uniform today for that very reason. One less chance of someone staring at you just a little too hard, in the video and in person. 

You just hope Waxer and Boil don’t have that kind of intimate knowledge of Cody’s anatomy. 

“So, what do you say?” Boil asks, pulling you from your thoughts. “You in?” 

You blink at him for a moment. “Oh, uh, I’m kind of busy right now. Inspections and stuff, you know.” You stand, not having touched your food but you haven’t had much of an appetite all day. “But, uh, let me know if you do figure it out?” 

You’d know if they did really figure it out regardless. 

***

You want to cry. You feel like you might as you enter your barracks. The medics are on break, their last moment to get some rest before the guys ship out tomorrow and they begin a long stretch of treating injuries. 

Naturally, they’re all discussing the video. 

Sitting through the meeting with the entirety of the population on The Negotiator had almost been unbearable. You had been squished between Waxer and Boil and their quiet discussion of their investigation hadn’t helped any. They weren’t much closer to figuring out who it was in the video, but they were determined. 

You’re not sure you’ve seen them so determined about anything since the last prank they pulled on Cody. 

You had been able to see Cody from where you were sitting. He had been cool and collected as always, nothing to give any hint at his involvement in the situation. Nothing to hint he was the reason they were having it in the first place. 

You wished you could have that much composure. 

Listening to the General and the Admiral discuss the situation and the video had felt almost demeaning. The shame that had coursed through you was enough to send your head spinning. You had feigned exhaustion, glad it was Boil next to you as you leaned against him for support. 

At least they had banned it from being played on duty or in any common areas. 

The GAR was calling for all datapads to be wiped as well, to remove any downloads or copies of the video that might slip through the cracks. That would have to wait until after the campaign, though. 

You silently thank Cody. As mad as you were at him, he was at least trying to rectify this. You’re not sure you’ll be able to forgive him, or trust him with something like this again, but he was trying. 

“It’s demeaning, just standing around watching things like that.” One of the medics says as you sink down on your thin mattress. It’s far from comfortable, but right now, you’d take anything. 

You’re exhausted from the stress of the day. It feels like it’s been a week, not a few hours since Cody’s mistake. It almost feels surreal now that your homemade sex tape found its way onto the GAR server for anyone to see. For all of the GAR to see. They had seen, even the higher ups. Even the Jedi. 

You lay yourself out, covering your face with the pillow. You wish you could disappear, that some portal might open under your bed and swallow you whole. 

“I can only imagine how your day went.” Your bunk mate says, squeezing your leg. “Alone with all those men in the hangar.” 

“It was nonstop.” You say, lifting the pillow just enough that your words are audible. “All day. Playing it, talking about it.” 

“At least they’re banning it from work spaces.” She says, climbing onto the bunk. “If I have to hear it one more time I’m going to smash all the datapads on this ship.” 

“Whoever she is, she’s one lucky girl.” Someone else says. 

Calls of agreement ring out around the barracks. 

“What I wouldn’t give to bag just one of them, and there’s some lucky lady out there with a commander totally in love with her.” She sighs, dropping dramatically on her bed. 

“How do you know they’re in love?” You ask, removing the pillow from your face. 

“Just by the way they interact.” The girl on the bunk beside yours says. “The way he touches her, the way he moves. He’s down bad for her.” 

You try to keep your cheeks from warming once again. Is Cody in love with you? You had never teased the idea. What you two had was purely physical, good fun and stress release. Nothing more. Or...was it? Even in your roughest, most desperate moments there was a tenderness to Cody when it came to you. You should feel at least a little proud that you made the pinnacle of control that was Marshal Commander Cody so pussy drunk he messed up in the worst way possible, but was there more to it? 

Is Cody in love with you? 

***

You’re half asleep at breakfast. The campaign will begin in a matter of hours. It will be quiet for a while for you at the start before the calls start coming in. Ships coming back for emergency servicing, requests for more ammo, more supplies, more ships, more troops. You’d be in the heat of it in the hangar, and the chances you’d get to rest over the next few weeks were going to be few and far between. 

So were your chances to see Cody. 

You jump as trays hit the table next to you, blinking away the bleariness as you glance between Waxer and Boil. They’re both grinning, mischievous glints in your eyes. You’ve gone the whole two hours you’ve been up without thinking about the video, too tired to put much thought into it, but now...now you’re worried. 

Had they figured it out somehow? 

Waxer sets a datapad in a familiar spot in front of you at the table. He pulls up a screenshot from the video, obviously not deterred by the new rules about having the video in common areas. 

“Look.” Waxer says, pointing to a very blurry, zoomed in screenshot of the side of Cody’s ass. “There’s a mark right there.” 

You squint at the blurry dark spot. You wipe the screen to make sure it’s not something stuck, but it’s not. There is, in fact, a small dark spot on Cody’s ass. You’ve never noticed it before. 

“Okay?” You say, staring at the screen still. 

“I don’t have one of those.” Waxer says. 

“Neither do I. We checked.” Boil continues. “We checked with a few others too. So whoever this is, has a unique spot right on his ass.” 

“And...what do you plan to do with this information?” You ask, looking between them. “Ask every clone commander in the GAR to pull down his pants so you can check for a spot on his ass cheek?” 

Waxer rests his chin on his hand, brows furrowing. “That is going to be a complication.” 

“Besides, how can you be sure it was a commander?” You continue, desperate to get them off the case before either they figured it out, or got in trouble for still having the video and many, many screenshots of it. “How do you know it’s not someone else using the commander’s quarters for more privacy. I wouldn’t want to film in the barracks if it were me.” 

They share a look over your head. “You’re right. This is going to be harder than we thought.” 

You pat their shoulders as you stand, an idea beginning to form in your mind. “Worry about the battle right now. You can do this when you get back.” 

You give them both a smile before you head towards the hangar, your stomach fluttering nervously. You hadn't slept much last night, your thoughts racing, replaying and analyzing every interaction you’ve had with Cody, both private and public. Things you might have overlooked, hidden signs that he harbors more for you than just lust.

You had also come up with a plan, a plan you were determined to enact before he shipped off to the planet where he’d spend what was going to likely be weeks in the heat of battle. He’d be planetside the entire fight, doing his job as commander. 

You nervously rock on your toes as you wait for Cody. You hadn’t warned him you were waiting, hadn’t told him you were going to confront him. He probably had so much to think about, so much to worry about the last thing he needs is an ambush by you, but you have to know. You have to know before you’re stuck worrying for weeks whether or not you’ll ever get to know. 

You all but ram into him, sending him stumbling into a closet as he walks by. It’s nothing but fate that you were alone in the hallway, that no one was walking by or walking with him to prevent this from happening. 

He rights himself as the closet door closes, staring at you with wide eyes. His gaze softens, an almost guilty look crossing his face as he recognizes you. He says your name quietly, the guilt prevalent in his tone. 

“I’m so sorry.” He says, avoiding looking at you. “I should have been more careful. I put us both at risk and then everyone was talking about it all day and I can’t imagine how horrible it was for you to have to listen to that nonstop.” 

“Yeah, it was pretty awful.” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgive me. I wouldn’t blame you if you said you never wanted to see me again. You didn’t deserve this and it’s not fair to you. I know my apologies don’t mean anything, and it can never totally be undone, but I’ve been trying hard to rectify this and-” 

“Shut up.” You cut him off. You kind of liked him groveling a bit and it was reassuring he at least feels bad for it. You knew it wasn’t intentional. You knew he didn’t mean to do it. You know he feels bad, he’ll likely always feel bad about it. He can save the apologies for later. You need to ask him before you lose your nerve. “Shut up and listen.”

He blinks at you in surprise, but he stays quiet. You’d get one hell of a reprimanding if you ever spoke like that to him outside private spaces. 

You take a breath, staring into those dark eyes. “Do you love me?”

His eyes widen just a bit, lips parting as he takes in your words. It’s bold, asking so directly, but you don’t have a lot of time. He’s shipping out in less than an hour. You could save the fluffy words for when he comes back. 

“Some of the girls in the barracks last night were talking about the video and they said they could tell they love each other just by the way they move. The way you touch me.” You step up closer to him, close enough to touch. “I never noticed it, I never really bothered to. I didn’t think...it was just supposed to be for pleasure, right? But...someone who’s supposed to be just a casual fling isn’t supposed to look at me like that.” 

He gulps, his hand slowly lifting to your arm. His gloved fingers are warm, even through the thick material of your uniform. You know what they feel like against your bare skin. You know how dangerous those hands can be, but you also know how soft they can be. How gentle. 

How loving. 

“It’s a risk.” He finally says, breaking eye contact. “Fraternization of any kind could lead to decommission, even a court-martial. If anyone found out...both of us would get in trouble. It would be an abuse of authority, we could both face consequences...” 

Your stomach starts to sink. He’d never voiced his concerns to you. You knew it was a risk getting involved with him, you knew what would happen if anyone found out. He had never shown any concern for the rules. Perhaps, though, with his mistake, his mind had changed.

“I never cared.” He continues, his fingers trailing up to your shoulder. “It was worth the risk, you were worth the risk. It was supposed to be casual. Nothing more than some stress release. Plenty of others do it.” His hand continues to your neck, cupping the back of it. “It wasn’t supposed to become love.” 

His words take a moment to process in your mind. He loves you. He loves you. It is true. It wasn’t just your mind playing tricks on you, hoping for something more in those glances, in those touches. 

Cody loves you. 

“Cody,” You whisper as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t know how. I wasn’t sure it was what you wanted.” His breath is warm across your face. You’ve been this close before, you’ve been closer before, but none of it had felt like this. “I would happily suffer in silence if it meant I got to keep you forever.” 

You laugh, lifting your hands to cup his face. “You idiot.” Your thumbs rub his cheeks. “I love you too.” 

He closes the distance between you two, kissing you softly. It’s different from the other kisses you’ve shared. The passionate ones, the heated ones in the throes of lust. This one is soft, emotional, full of the unspoken love you both share. 

You hate having to pull away from him as his comm beeps. You hate that you’ve waited this long to notice, this long to say anything. He’s going away to war where the chances of him dying are high, and you’ll be stuck here, helpless to listen to the comms and hope his name doesn’t come up, or his body isn’t delivered on a gunship. 

“Say it.” You whisper, holding him close to you just for a moment longer. 

“I love you.” He says it with such conviction it almost knocks you off your feet. 

A smile tugs at your lips as you release him, letting him adjust himself before you sneak out of the closet. The halls are thankfully empty as everyone is gathering to prepare for shipping out. You wish you could hold his hand as you walk, but it’s too risky. Even if you managed to brush it off as nothing but emotional support for the rapidly approaching campaign, there’s too much going on right now. 

The last thing you need is someone else investigating you two and finding out Cody does, in fact, have a mark on his ass cheek that matches the one in the video. 

“Commander Cody.” 

A voice at the other end of the hall has you both freezing. Your heart drops into your stomach, and your stomach drops through the floors under you and out the bottom of the ship. You both turn, your face probably a painting of guilt and terror as you face General Kenobi. 

“Sir.” Cody salutes him.

You manage a stiff salute as well. 

“We’re deploying in ten minutes.” General Kenobi says. “It’s time for a final gear check.” 

“Yes, sir.” Cody nods, gripping his helmet just a little tighter. 

“Also,” Your hope for a quick retreat is squashed as the General eyes you both. “I would suggest a little more care is used when saving your...personal files.” 

You think you might die on the spot, a nervous sweat breaking out across your entire body. He knows. He knows and you’re about to get fired, or worse, court-martialed. It’s over. It’s over before it even got a chance to start. 

“I will see you in the hangar in eight minutes.” He says before walking past you to the lifts. 

You stare after him in shock. The General knew. He knew it was at least Cody in the video. He hadn’t seemed like he was going to report you, in fact he hadn’t seemed bothered at all. 

You turn to look at Cody wide eyed. “He knows.” 

Cody nods. “Yes. He does.” 

Your gaze moves back to the lifts, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest. You’re not sure you’re going to last with all the stress, and there’s still an entire campaign to get through. 

“Wait-” You hold your hand out before Cody can walk away. “How exactly did he know it was you?” 

Cody’s lips lift in a smirk, his shoulder lifting in a shrug. “No idea. Must be a Jedi thing.” 

You squint your eyes at his back as he makes his way to the lifts. “Yeah, a ‘Jedi thing.’” 

***

Everyone is exhausted. You can feel it in the air without even having to look at anyone. Even those of you that hadn’t seen any combat were feeling it, your own feet dragging as you move through the mess line. You need a long sleep and a few stiff drinks before you’ll even begin to feel back to normal. Everyone is moving slowly, bodies slumped over trays at tables, some having even fallen asleep sitting up. 

You drag yourself to the table Cody is sitting at, taking the seat across from him. You stare down at the “food” on your tray, none of it appetizing but you are hungry. 

You also haven’t heard mention of the video in weeks. 

It’s been a nice break, everyone too focused on staying alive and keeping others alive to make any mention of it. Things have settled and before long some other controversy will start and most of them will forget it ever happened. 

Two trays hit the table on either side of you, making you jump. You glance to both sides as Waxer and Boil take their seats next to you. They both look tired, but they also look disappointed. 

“What happened to you two?” You ask, looking between the two pouting clones. 

“Someone deleted all our research.” Boil says. “Every last screenshot and file is gone.” 

You pout in sympathy, patting his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know you put a lot of work into that.” 

He nods. “We were so close. Now it was all for nothing.” 

You glance across at Cody’s raised eyebrow, giving him a sly wink before you go back to comforting the two dejected clones. 

Taglist:

@kaminocasey, @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @sinfulsalutations

[dangraccoon]

What I Said

Tech x f!reader (she/her pronouns, otherwise undescribed)

Warnings: Reader is a civilian journalist, jealousy, misunderstandings, pining, Tech is autistic, Kaminoans were assholes, The Bad Batch was abused as children, Referenced Past Child Abuse, it gets a little whumpy but has a happy ending!

All Mando'a used is translated within the story!

Tech’s brow furrowed as you talked animatedly to Wrecker and Echo around the fire. He buried himself in his datapad again, hoping to tune out the nonsense spewing from you to his brothers’ delight. You were too busy telling them about the stories you had woven to notice his frustration, but Hunter certainly did. 

He got up, moving from his quiet spot at the edge of the clearing to sit next to his irritated brother. 

“Tech?” he questioned. 

“Yes, Hunter?”

“What’s wrong?”

Tech momentarily paused his scrolling. “It is of no importance,” he decided. 

Hunter’s eyes narrowed. “Tion’cuyir bic kaysh?” [Is it her?]

“Ibac cuyir dini’la,” Tech rolled his eyes. [That is mad.]

“Gar ru'kir cuyir or'atu irudayc at kaysh,” Hunter chuckled. “Gar ru'kir cuyir ori’jaytyc.” [You should be more friendly to her. She is very nice.]

“Vod, gar ganar noy'ganyc gar kov'nyn o'r te akaan. Ni cuy' ratiin irudayc.” [Brother, you have lost your head in the war. I am always friendly.]

“Ibac cuyir osik bal gar kar'taylir bic,” Crosshair drawled from behind them. [That is dung and you know it.]

Great, Tech thought, rolling his eyes. 

“O'r haa'keb, Ni mirdir kaysh guuror te dala ori’sol,” Crosshair smirked. [In fact, I think he likes the woman a lot.]

“Ibac cuyir ogir'olar,” Tech growled, a little too quickly, but breathed a quiet admission to himself, as well as Hunter. “Kaysh cuyir ori’mirdala, bal mesh'la.” [That is irrelevant. She is very clever, and beautiful.]

“Hey,” Wrecker shouted across the fire. “What’re you guys talkin’ about?”

Tech’s brow furrowed even more as he went back to his research on his datapad. He hoped that the light of the fire disguised the flush of his cheeks as you carefully observed the group. 

You could tell they were talking about you. The boys didn’t have full conversations in mando’a much, usually only utilizing a word or two. You felt your embarrassment heat your face, and you listened to Crosshair and Wrecker bicker about private conversations. Using the growing debate as cover, you rose from the rock you’d been perched on, quietly making your way back to the ship.

Once you were securely in your bunk room, you let out a long sigh. It seemed like the boys were bickering more and more lately and you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault. 

A knock at your door shook you from your thoughts. 

“Who is it?” you called. 

“Echo,” he replied. 

You slid the door open, inviting him in. 

“What’s up?” you tried to ask nonchalantly. 

“Are you okay?”

That caught you off-guard. You’d been with the Bad Batch for almost 3 standard weeks. Sure, you got along fine with them - well most of them - but it wasn’t like you were particularly close. 

“Fine,” you shrugged. “Just got tired, I guess.”

“I’m sorry about the others,” he said abruptly.

You hummed a little. You didn’t think anyone needed to apologize, especially Echo, who didn’t get involved.

“Right, well- um, have a good night,” he mumbled, giving you a curt nod before retreating from the room, closing the door behind him. 

–––––

The next few days felt rocky, even though most of the squad seemed fine, one member was particularly snarky. Tech wasn’t happy with his brothers, and he made sure they knew. He acted no differently than he had before with you. Indifference seemed to seep off of him when you were near, but he’d leave the space when you joined it, if possible. 

By the third day of Tech’s snippiness, you’d had enough, and had begun avoiding him entirely. You were starting to feel irritated knowing that you caused whatever his issue was, but the rest of the squad was taking the brunt of Tech’s anger, and overhearing his conversation with Echo pushed you over the edge. You needed to end this.

Everyone else was out to restock supplies, leaving just you and Tech left on the ship as he worked on repairs. You sat quietly, working on your data pad, nerves starting to get the better of you.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Tech called your name from the cockpit.

“Y-yeah?” you stuttered.

“I could use an extra set of hands,” he replied easily.

When you entered the cockpit, Tech was sprawled out underneath the control panel, arms elbow deep in the inner workings of the Marauder.

“How can I help?” you asked.

“Well, you can start by getting down here; you’re of no use to me up there,” he said. He thought he said it jokingly. You thought he was snapping at you.

“There’s no call to be rude,” you muttered under your breath, but still plopped down on the floor next to Tech, who scowled at the misunderstanding.

“Now, I cannot let go of these wires here, so you need to take the shrink tubing and put it in place on the other end so that when I reconnect the wires, they will hold in place,” he explained.

You sighed quietly. You’d have to lay on the floor next to him. As you do so, you catch Tech watching you from the corner of his eye. Or at least you thought you did, the moment was so quick. You look under the panel, seeing the parts he was talking about. You picked a piece of shrink tubing up, placing it between your lips so you didn’t lose it. You had to scoot closer to Tech to reach the panel, damn his long arms. The top of your head was inches from his temple now as you scowled up into the machinery. You swear you felt his gaze on you as you worked in the panel. No doubt he had a criticism of your technique or a more efficient way of doing the simple task.

Tech’s mind was running. She agreed to help him, despite the cold shoulder you had recently been giving him. Did that mean you had forgiven him? Could you possibly feel for him as he did for you? No. He refused to let his hopes get the better of him. Yet, here he was, watching you assist him with repairs, laying so close to him, and he couldn’t help but think perhaps the two of you were on a better path. I can fix this, he thought. Perhaps I still have a chance with her.

“Okay, I’ve got the tubing in place. What now?” you asked. When the clone so close to you didn’t respond, you turned your head to meet his eye, almost jumping when you realized he was facing you as well. It took him a moment to come out of whatever stupor he’d found himself in.

Tech shook his head, kicking himself for missing a single word that fell from your lips, a slight blush threatening to creep up from his neck. “Apologies, could you repeat what you said?” 

You huffed a little before repeating your request for the next step. 

“Right,” Tech flustered, going back to working rather than daydreaming about you, feeling his ears go red. 

The two of you worked in tandem, Tech providing instruction on occasion. It was…nice. A little awkward, but nice. Being in such close proximity to a man you were sure hated you was starting to wear on your nerves, so as soon as the four-handed repair was finished, you quickly got up from your spot on the floor, brushing yourself off and beginning to walk away.

Tech panicked internally. “Where are you going?” he asked, sliding out from underneath the panel and sitting up to look at you.

You eyed him suspiciously. “I was going to go for a walk to stretch my legs a little.”

“I see,” he said, looking down at his datapad for a moment before looking back up. “The list of necessary repairs are finished, so I will accompany you.” His heart was pounding in his chest, and he silently thanked the stars for Hunter’s absence. 

“That’s…unnecessary,” you uttered, choosing your words carefully.

“Do not be ridiculous,” insisted Tech. “You are a civilian and this planet is unfamiliar. If you were to run into trouble, you may not be able to protect yourself. It is inadvisable to go alone.”

“Oh, am I ridiculous now?” you fumed. This was the straw that broke the eopie’s back. “And helpless? You’ll have to add those to your list.”

Tech felt like he was experiencing whiplash. “My list?”

“I heard you talking to Echo last night,” you barked. “When he asked you about me you told him that I’m ‘hard-headed’ and ‘inappropriate’. That I’m ‘nosy’, my ‘mind is too high in the clouds’.”

“That’s not- I did not mean-” Tech sputtered, realizing he was rapidly falling into a hole he wasn’t sure how to get out of. 

“‘Didn’t mean it’? Sure,” you spat, spinning on your heel and rushing out of the ship, begging that he couldn’t see the tears streaming from your eyes.

–––––

“What do you mean ‘she’s gone’?” Hunter demanded.

“She overheard part of my conversation with Echo last night,” Tech replied miserably. You were gone. He’d spent the last hour out searching for you in the jungle that surrounded the ship, but you had turned your comm off.

“The conversation we had last night? You told me you were in love with her,” Echo said, hoping to sooth his bespectacled brother. “Surely she couldn’t be angry about that?”

“She must have left before that,” lamented Tech. His leg was bouncing rapidly as he held his head in his hands. 

“Where are you going?” Echo asked as Hunter turned towards the ship’s door.

“To find the civilian journalist we’re supposed to be protecting,” he hummed, stepping out of the ship.

Hunter could see the traces of you as you’d hurried away from the protection of the Marauder; a few footsteps here, a trace of your scent there, recently broken branches and kicked up leaves. It didn’t take him long to find the small alcove you’d found in the side of a steep, rocky hill that overlooked a river.

He approached you wordlessly, making sure to allow his steps to be quite louder than he typically would - he didn’t want to frighten you, after all.

You didn’t acknowledge his presence, you simply stayed in the position in which he’d found you; your knees pulled up towards your chest, leaning against the cool rock, eyes staring blankly over the river. The two of you sat there in silence; you were replaying the last few days in your head on an endless repeat, he was attempting to find something, anything to say. 

After a few more beats of simple quiet, you both started to speak, breaking off mid-word to allow the other to talk first.

“We haven’t talked about ourselves much, have we? I mean our lives before the war.”

You shook your head. It had always seemed like a sensitive topic, so you’d never pushed it. 

“Our ‘childhood’,” he started, throwing up a set of air quotes. “If you could call it that, well, it wasn’t happy. You know we’re different from the other clones. Well, somehow, the regs didn’t take kindly to that. Most of them anyway. We were outcasts, and before Echo, it was just the four of us. That’s all we ever had, and all we ever needed.

“And then there were the Kaminoans. They were…diligent…in our training. Putting us through exercises the regs didn’t have to. They separated us a lot. I was the leader and they wouldn’t let me anywhere near my brothers during the tests. We were all treated terribly by the Kaminoans, but Tech, he had it the worst. He doesn’t sleep much because they used to keep him awake for days, poking at him, prodding him, pushing him to know more, do more, remember more. He never told us much about the tests. I think he didn’t want to worry us.

“One day he came back to the barracks covered in these little marks. His goggles were broken. He stayed in bed for hours, not moving, just staring at the wall. Then he finally got up, started moving around like a droid. Eventually, he came across a piece of chalk. He started writing on the walls. It was like he was in a trance.”

Hunter’s voice turned dark, his face showing an extreme mixture of disgust, anger, worry. “He was making a blueprint of the suit the Kaminoans were using to train him. It covered his full body with little bits of metal over his pressure points. It was wired to connect to his nervous system. They used it to monitor his emotions, mostly. When he would get excited, they would electrocute him. If he started to fall behind or fall asleep, or if he got overwhelmed. He was in that suit for nearly three days before he finally got sent back to the barracks.

“He refused to show any emotion, even after we graduated and were deployed into the field, for such a long time. If we were all talking, telling stories, laughing, he would just be sitting there. Eventually, the longer we were away from Kamino, he would show little hints that he was still human, like the tiniest bit of a smile. He’d crack jokes. He would get frustrated or angry more often than anything else, though. Those were easier, I guess.

“When Echo joined us, he came to me one night. He said there was something wrong with him, but he didn’t know what. He was shaking uncontrollably, flinching at small noises and his own words. By the time I finally figured out the cause, he was nearly unconscious, basically sleep talking. I don’t know if he really even remembers that night.”

You were stuck silent. 

“All that to say, he has trouble, more so than the rest of us. He still doesn’t know how to deal with emotions. It was bred out of him. He was scared when Echo joined us because he was worried that it would change the dynamic of our squad. He was worried that with Echo’s experience and scomp, he’d be replaced. It took a lot of time and a few missteps, but now they’re practically inseparable.. When you joined us, it was easier for him. You’re not meant to be a permanent fixture, so to him, it’s easier not to get attached. But he did.”

“He…got attached?” you gasped.

“I probably shouldn’t say, but he fell for you. Hard,” Hunter smirked. “The second you smiled at him the day we met you, heh, I don’t think I’ve ever heard his heart beat so loud.”

You felt your face flush and you swallowed hard.

“What I’m trying to ask of you is that you be patient with him. He’s still learning to feel, to act with more than his head.”

“That night…around the fire. What were you saying?”

“Hmm?”

“You were all talking in Mando’a. What were you saying?”

Hunter chuckled. “Well, I was trying to give him a push. He was jealous that you were talking to Wrecker and Echo, but didn’t understand why. ‘Course Crosshair had to start teasing him. That night, he told me ‘kaysh cuyir ori’mirdala, bal mesh'la’. Almost couldn’t believe he’d even actually said it.”

You looked at Hunter, confusion plain on your face. He grinned and shook his head. “He said you’re very clever,” he chuckled. “And beautiful’.”

“I’ve been so stupid,” you concluded after a few moments of sitting there, your cheeks flaming hot.

“You didn’t know and he’s still learning how to tell you. Just give him time, let him come to you.”

–––––

Hunter returned to the ship with you in tow just as the sun was beginning to set. Three of the squad started asking questions, arguing and teasing each other as you set foot in the ship once more. The presence of a certain set of eyes on you didn’t go unnoticed. 

With the rest of the squad distracted, you sat down near him at his place at the small table.

“Hi,” you nearly whispered, feeling like you were shrinking into the seat.

Tech’s eyes didn’t leave you, even as he said nothing.

“Hunter told me about- well, a little bit- I mean, I couldn’t have- I didn’t know-” you stumbled along trying to find what you were trying to say.

“I meant everything I said last night to Echo,” he asserted. “You are nosy, stubborn, and inappropriate.”

You stared at the table in front of you.

“But Echo helped me realize why you frustrate me so. You are curious, that’s why you seemed nosy. Your will is made of durasteel. You are colorful and wild. You are so similar to myself, yet so different,” he explained. “He helped me come to the logical conclusion after you’d stopped listening.”

“What is the logical conclusion?” you asked, finally looking back at him. His eyes were starry as he looked at you. Despite all knowledge, all fact, all reason, to him you had created the universe for him to explore.

He fidgeted a little, but never took his eyes from hers. “Ni copad kar’tayl gar darasuum, cyare, meh gar kelir duumir ni.”

The room fell silent, save for the loud and steady pounding of two hearts. His brothers watched him in awe, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you.

“What does that mean?” you whispered as he inched closer to you.

“I wish to know you forever, beloved, if you will allow me,” he whispered back, eyes finally dropping from yours to take your hand between his. 

“Please, cyare, tell me you feel the same?” he pleaded. 

“Tech,” you smiled, using your free hand to cup his cheek. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Neither of you knew who closed the gap, but the kiss felt like a revelation. All the misunderstandings, the confusion, the pain, it was all a distant memory. Vaguely, you could hear the hoots and hollers of the brothers behind you, but that didn’t bother you. 

Tech was the first to break the kiss, standing, and pulling you with him.

“Where are you going?” one of the boys called after the pair of you.

“To make up for lost time,” Tech shouted back, closing the door to the cockpit after pulling you through.

Thanks for reading! - River

Main Masterlist Taglist Form Read on Ao3

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[msfcatlover]

Duke in the Reverse!Robins AU be like…

”Eldest daughter syndrome? What eldest daughter syndrome? Nah, just because I’m the oldest does not mean I have eldest daughter syndrome. Sure, I’ve had to mediate between Damian & Bruce, or Steph & Bruce, or help certain Titans find a middle ground, but that’s just being a good leader. And yeah, I’m protective of the younger kids, but that’s just what any responsible adult in my position would do.”

*finds out one of the members of his team has such bad civilian trauma they need to straight-up quit hero work*

“Oh shit… I fucked this up. I was too focused on my own problems, how the fuck did I miss this? Okay, okay. I was already burning out trying to juggle being Gotham’s only daytime hero and single-handedly leading the Titans. I need to pick one. And find some way to make it up to Grant. Jesus fuck, how did I miss this…”

*Tim becomes Cass’s apprentice. Steph & Cass start arguing more often. Steph has her biggest fight with Bruce yet. Steph goes missing.*

*Steph dies*

“After that fight with Bruce, no one backed her up. She didn’t know anyone was supporting her. She died thinking none of us were on her side. If any one of us had actively taken her side, instead of getting distracted with our own messes, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Oh, but am I really expecting Damian or Bruce to be intelligent about feelings? Am I really expecting tact from Cass? I know them too well; it should’ve been me, shouldn’t it? I can’t believe I managed to fuck up worse than I did with Grant…”

*Luna gets taken away*

“Look at what you’ve done, Bruce! Look what you’ve fucking done! You’re tearing this family apart! We all promised to look out for her if anything happened to Steph, and you’re just going to force every single one of us to break those promises?! You’re going to rip away the last piece of Steph we had?!? Look at Dami & Cass! Look at them! You did this!”

*finds out Damian’s training for Tim to be Shadow uses all the LoA techniques he refused to use for Steph, making it borderline-through-outright abusive, almost certainly to try to drive Tim off by making him too miserable to continue*

“I. I can’t fucking believe this. I can’t… I can’t believe it took me so long to realize. Damian, nobody is happy about this, but fuck you. I thought you were trying to be better, you absolute fucking asshole! And I… I don’t even have the excuse of not knowing half of the involved parties this time, or being away, or too busy, I was just looking away because I didn’t want to think about Tim taking Steph’s mantle. I should’ve fucking stopped this the first time Tim came back from Bludhaven. God fucking dammit, how do I keep failing the kids in my care in the same fucking way, over & over again?!”

*was all the way at the other end of the room & looking in the wrong direction to have enough forewarning to actually save Tim from being shot*

“I… I… I… I’m literally the only person who could’ve fucking stopped this. I have all the training, all the abilities, but I went to refill my punch glass, and now Timmy might never walk again. I mean, absolutely blame the asshole who pulled the trigger, but Tim & I were in the same fucking room. Who would even put a hit out on Tim Wayne? There’s no way Tim doesn’t know who’s behind this, but he won’t tell me because he doesn’t trust me, because of course he doesn’t! Look at my track record! When it matters most, I let down the people I love. My parents, Grant, Steph, Tim…”

*Jason becomes Shadow.*

*The Tower fight happens.*

*Jason gets kidnapped by the Joker.*

*Bruce “dies,” and Jason runs away to have the Red Robin arc.*

*Dick only begrudgingly puts up with Duke because Duke’s rather overbearing expressions of protectiveness support are not meshing well with Dick’s “stuck on anger til I personally catch my parents’ murderer” issue*

“…If anyone needs me, I’ll be screaming in the closet.”

[dairy-farmer]

The caped community finds out Tim is a meta by virtue of ✨something I'm too lazy to think up✨. His power? Tim can choose when he's gonna be pregnant. Like a duck that can prevent unwanted fertilization. It becomes this thing in the caped community (and rogues who somehow found out) where they try to fuck Tim and get him pregnant. The problem isn't fucking Tim. Turns out Tim is quite the slut. The problem is that he doesn't want to get pregnant. It's like a ginormous dick measuring competition that no one can seem to win. And then one day, they find out Tim is pregnant. The baby daddy? Some random civilian Tim met at a bar.

On Tim's part, he would love to get pregnant. He just doesn't want to carry any babies with a meta gene (he does NOT want to know if those babies can develop superpowers inside his womb and he's not eager to try it out) or carry the baby of someone with as many deep-seated mental issues like the bats (he read somewhere that babies can inherit depression and anxiety and have worse issues. His babies are about to get his, he does NOT want to get them double more). It left him with a very, very narrow pool of sperm donors. Good thing sex with these people are great.

-🦆

😍😍😍😍 tim's power being built-in birth control!!!! and tim being very logical and focused on who he wants to father his baby. because tim loves sex, he loves it A LOT despite his more...modest reputation, some might even say prudish.

but just because tim is willing to fuck a whole manner of people doesn't mean he wants them to knock him, despite how often that seems to be a fantasy of the many people he lets fuck him. sex is one thing but a baby? that's something tim does not take lightly.

before tim had been born his mom and dad had a pure bred show dog as a pet. her name had been biscuit and her picture had been higher up on the mantle piece than tim. tim had heard all about her growing up and he'd also heard about how other competitors in the show dog scene had tried striking deals with tim's parents to breed their dogs with biscuit.

"but it's not that simple timmy," his dad would tell him. "you can't just let any stud mount the bitch, otherwise that's how you get bad pups."

bad pups, like pups who didn't like to listen, who had bad temperaments, who inherited dispositions to diseases, and worst of all- pups who were ugly.

it'd been the same reasoning his parents used when they chose a sperm donor to have tim. tim supposed it was that "parent" who he had to blame for his meta abilities of being able to choose who impregnates him. he supposed it made sense they were a sperm donor since if tim had a sort of hyper awareness of his reproductive organs then it was likely they did to. after all, it was how he was able to stop his period without having to go on any medications. it was just a matter of reabsorbing the egg that wanted to descend back into his system.

so that's what tim does. he refuses to present the seas of ejaculate in his womb with a nice little egg to fertilize because he can tell they wouldn't be suitable. tim can 'feel' out the genetic material in him. can tell which sperm contains the right genes to be born a meta human (approximately 75%). can tell which ones will result in phenotypes like blonde hair or brown eyes. he can detect genetic predispositions for disease contained within them.

mental illnesses like depression, anxiety, addiction, and even bad temperaments like anger. diseases like pku, sickle cell, and cancer.

tim isn't perfect either. he has an increased risk of bpd and colon cancer, a higher chance of developing diabetes, a predisposition to vision problems and cavities. that's not even mentioning the actual problems he has.

tim's ptsd, depression, and naturally elevated cortisol levels from being so stressed all the time might have an impact on the fetal brain development.

and even though tim can't control that he can still mitigate the risk.

tim has already carefully selected a handful of eggs from his ovaries with the lowest risk and is carefully watching over them, keeping them safe until he finds a perfect genetic donor father.

which...tim is keeping his hopes realistic. the father likely won't be a cape because even if they don't have inherited issues, their accumulated issues will likely leak into the baby. plus tim doesn't like the idea of his baby having another parent that could just swing by and bother them. no, tim would much rather prefer a stranger, preferably a one night stand who would have no rights or ideas about his baby.

but until that happens tim has a large pool of willing participants to fuck him even if he wouldn't consider using their genetic material. and that's how it is. until tim has a business trip in st. paul minnesota and meets someone at a fancy lounge downtown.

not overly tall but a decent height, a nice musculoskeletal structure, a nice face, not pushy, sweet laugh.

it's after they have sex and are lazily making out in bed that tim realizes he's hit the genetic lottery jackpot.

no history of mental illness, at all. no elevated risks for diabetes, cancer, or a whole host of diseases. tim's genetics have a slight disposition for alcoholism but the donor is a rare drinker and doesn't smoke. no cardiovascular disease issues, low chance of allergy to pharmaceuticals, all blood, skin, eye, muscle, and tissue disorders appear to be low risk, and the only risk for autoimmune disease comes from tim. his donor even has the right genes for his babies to have straight teeth and clear skin through their adolescence unlike tim who had been forced to liberally use zit cream and braces throughout middle school.

yeah tim has hit the jackpot. he's so excited he gets horny again.

the donor is already more than tim ever dreamed of and the genetic material he already has is more than enough for him to get pregnant.

but could tim be blamed for wanting to widen the pool even more and give his baby the best of the best?

tim rides his donor hard and fast, bouncing and trying to thank the father of his future child for this gift with every whip of his hips.

he'll be coming back for more. all of his children will need to be fathered with this person because there's no way tim can let someone with such beautifully perfect genes slip through his fingers (also it helps that the sex is nice).

tim stares down at the gorgeous brown eyes all of his children will have (tim's light blue eyes carry an increased risk of basal and squamous cell carcinoma) as they roll back from the bliss of another orgasm, their balls clenching and cum shooting into tim's more than welcoming womb. tim's cunt clenches around the throbbing length, satisfaction purring in his chest as a fresh load of material for him to parse through fills him.

tim spends the plane ride home carefully choosing out the perfect sperm and gently guiding his egg to it. he carefully makes sure the two fuse perfectly, joining his egg and the material of his lovely donor (who tim has carefully memorized the name and address of for future reference). after all he'll be back in a few years to fuck his brains out for another sweet baby. it's what tim always wanted after all.

tim already knows he's pregnant weeks later but takes a test for his medical records, after all he needs to get started on all the proper vitamins and treatments to make sure his baby is born with the least risk possible. he also needs to inform bruce as quickly as possible so he can be benched. no need for unnecessary stress after all, it would be bad for the baby if tim's levels rose any higher.

news of tim's pregnancy spreads quickly and practically everyone tim has slept with in the last few weeks are stumbling over themselves to try and find out who the father is.

tim supposes he'll let them keep guessing for a few more weeks before their inevitable hovering gets annoying and he shoos them away.

because while tim might have the baby he's wanted for so long, he still needs help satiating his desires. orgasms always help with lowering his stress and the flood of hormones that are to come will, of course, make him too horny to function.

but at least he'll have help with that. afte rall, ever since people found out tim could control whether he got pregnant or not more than a few people showed up on his doorstep, desperate to be able to fuck bare back without any risks.

and tim, well who was he to say no?

[totoanime52]

MY THOUGHTS ON THE FINALE OF MY HERO ACADEMIA (LONG, SO BE PREPARED)

So the manga has finally (unofficially) come to an end. With the release of 430's leaks we see how the young heroes have grown over eight years in a timeskip. I'll give my thoughts on the final chapter here before I give my overall thoughts on the series in another post.

First and foremost, I was actually quite happy to see that Horikoshi didn't push pairings into the mix and kept the focus on the characters doing their hero work. As I mentioned on a previous post, I don't like how frequent it is that a series makes the entire last chapter of their story basically dedicated to making sure certain pairings are canon (usually by introducing us to their kids in their own little stories) rather than devoting it to the themes or characters of the world they crafted for years. I often feel like they could have spent more time focusing on an issue or expanding characters more. An example is Naruto: I wanted the last chapter of Naruto to be about our boy's inauguration as Hokage, since that is what the series was pretty much building up to. I would have cried to see Naruto finally take up the mantle of Hokage after seeing how far he has come. Instead, we are pretty much preparing for Boruto's sequel story by being introduced to all the kids and setting up their stories (and you can't imagine my anger when I later found out Naruto canonically missed his inauguration for the sake of a damn joke). Here, we actually focus on how Midoriya is coping with being Quirkless again while still trying to encourage others to follow their own dreams, as well as how the other characters are working in this world. Seeing how Midoriya had originally taken the role of a teacher at UA in this chapter even though he did lose OFA eventually was kind of sweet, especially seeing how some students still admired him (including a now UA student Kota!!). I know that isn't where his story ends, but I'll get to that part in a bit.

We also see how Uraraka is focusing her efforts on changing Quirk counseling to focus more on helping those with different mental states rather than trying to make them conform to 'normality.' Even though I am still not happy with Toga's death, at least Uraraka is trying to make sure that at least one of the major sources of pain in Toga's life cannot harm another child like it did to her.

The fact that the ranking system is still around eight years later is maddening. When it mentioned how Dynamight yelling at a civilian for pushing a camera into his face will cause his rank to drop, I thought three things: 1. Who should give a shit about the rankings anymore?; 2. I wouldn't be happy if someone pushed a camera in my face while I'm working, especially if it involves something that requires focus and can be dangerous; 3. This is Dynamight, they should know his personailty by now so what did they expect to happen? I know Keigo is trying, but as long as that system is in place, it will still make the whole hero career in general more of a competitive popularity contest than a collaborative function.

Finally, we see how Izuku's story reaches it's end, at least on paper: All Might gives him his old hero costume case from school (with 18 right on the front) and tells him that Bakugou and the others from class A (note: it still feels weird not saying 1A anymore) have pooled money in over the past eight years to fund the creation of support items for Izuku so he can officially take up the mantle of the hero Deku again. This time, we see Bakugou hold his hand out to Izuku; turns out he really did mean it when he said he wanted them to keep competing with each other for the rest of their lives (*coughtsunderecough*). As Deku once again adorns his hero suit, he sees what looks like a ghost of Shigaraki Tomura watching him. The last panel of the manga shows the present day Class A students, now officially heroes.

I do like how Izuku remains Quirkless in the end. Despite him now having the means to pick his hero career back up, it doesn't change the fact that One For All is still gone forever. There was no miraculous reawakening of it or anything, but a work-around was found with the use of support items. Deku is now a Quirkless Hero, so perhaps this may help the rest of the 20% in the world that they can still chase their dreams. The fact that Class A dedicated eight years of funds to help Izuku keep his dream is also kind of heartwarming, especially when they were busy with their own lives and work, as well.

As for Shigaraki's ghost, I kind of have mixed feelings about that. I'm happy that Izuku still thinking about him after eight years. Maybe this is a way that Horikoshi is trying to say that his failure to save Shigaraki still haunts him and will continue to haunt him. Maybe it means that Shigaraki will keep watching Deku to see if he will be able to keep that spirit despite the failures behind him and the unknowns ahead of him (like a "Okay, Hero, let's see if you still have the ability to save others even after you couldn't save me" in that sarcastic way). I still wish there was a way that Tomura or any of the main villain trio could have been saved with how it was set up, so this little snippet of him still makes me sad to know that never happened.

Overall, the final chapter was better than I was expecting. While I still have issues with how Horikoshi chose to handle (or in the rankings case, NOT handle) some of the problems in the world of BNHA, I like how he kept the story on Izuku's dream of becoming a hero, something he was sure would never happen in the beginning and, near the end, would never happen again.

The fact that he kept their futures open to our interpretations in terms of where they will take their personal lives is quite nice to see, especially in regards to shipping. I feel like when official pairings are made, especially ones made last minute in stories like many shounen manga, most of the time it invites bragging, people putting others down, or just straight up fights in the fandom (it honestly scares me just how viscous some people can be over a fictional pairing). By keeping it open, at the very least it prevents some of the more extreme parts of the pairing fandom from claiming superiority over others. Anyway, sorry for the tangent at the end, but this is something that always irked me, especially in stories where romance wasn't a main theme.

Sidenote: seeing Eri growing up, smiling, and in a music club with her friends is the most beautiful thing. She's come so far and it's so cute how music became a passion for her after it was the catalyst for giving her back her smile.

[isabeauwolf]

Now, let's get down to the nitty gritty.

Knowing about Kai Chisaki/Overhaul being in Dr Garaki's/AFO's orphanage and that Shigaraki has a copy of his quirk. They parallel each other so much more after that reveal.

It explains so much about his character!

Kai Chisaki won't flat out say it or address it, neither has Horikoshi but its clear that he was heavily traumatized and abused as a kid before Pops found him.

Oh yes, the trauma bucket! Like our beloved characters in the series doesn't have enough trauma as it is. Let's see how far that habit hole goes for Kai? -_-

The lack of remorse for his victims, justifies his action, manipulative, lack of physical response to violence, deception, and hostel, his acts are usually well planned in advance, irritability and aggressive behavior when provoked, reckless disregard for safety of others - antisocial and sociopathic tendencies.

Lack of empathy, believes he's special and the only one who can cure the world, need for admiration from Pops, his abandonment and self-worth issues go hand-in-hand with his fear of his father figure throwing him out of the Shie Hassaikai with his final ultimatum of dropping his plan.

Out of everything, we only get sprinkles here and there that Kai had done before snapping.

You can see it, the way he tenses and his hands ball into a fists, no doubt, surprised, shocked, hurt even before redirected into anger and violence.

Putting his father figure into a coma, and taking matters into his own hands. Become the villain, we all know and love, adore, praise, however you see him as.

Before becoming "Overhaul," Kai used to get into brawls with anyone who dared disrespect the Shie Hassaikai, and wants to help the boss; protecting the honor of the yakuza and protecting them from being called, "Villains." (Classic delinquent behavior, I imagine he did it in high school since we've seen him do it as an adult.)

We see him wear normal clothes: black dress pants, blazer and purple dress shirt, no gloves and a black duster mask over his face. (I'd honestly, love to see Kai in more civilian, classy outfits! More unbuttoned shirts and all, please!)

Even if Pops scolding him and explaining that they must protect civilians instead of hurting them, the old man still affectionately pets the top of his head and praises him for protecting their honor. Which in itself is a kind gesture, but something I think he took a little too much into his heart.

The scolding for doing something dishonorable, but praised for his intentions has overtime been taken form into the most cold and logical extreme actions.

Overhaul's more professional outfits: the red and gold plague doctor's mask, and white gloves. Borrowing inspiration from All For One, he uses his quirks name as his alias, his Villain name and quirk ability, the idea for his quirk erasing and serum, as "Overhaul", he can kill and wants to change the world.

*My Hero Ultra Rumble cg by Horikoshi* I'm fangirling sooooo hard! *ahem*

To preserve the past, he must engage with the present and became a villain out of necessity.

What's the difference?

The differences between a young Kai standing up for his father's honor and the snarling demon he has become. All of it against a world that had clearly outgrown him and the old ways of the Yakuza, but he refused to accept it and to protect his only family and most precious person, Pops.

As we've been in the latest chapter of MHA, without his quirk, without his arms and plague mask, and the last time we saw him. Kai Chisaki, inside is still a boy who wants to make his father figure proud and wants attention and praise.

As Pop's said before he took things too far again, shoving the older man's wisdom and wishes aside, taking action into his own hands, not only crossing the line between the gray that Pop's held against the Villains' and Heroes, Black and White, Kai instead, erased the line and jumped over it, making his own line and walked into a dangerous and dishonorable path.

[grahamcarmen]

i kinda wished gray was angry at carmen instead of relieved just for yknow angst and stuff like at the jail when he was like "how did u know i was here" and shes like "all in good time gray" i wish he was like "its graham. whos gray?" cuz lol yea idk if this makes sense i suck at typing

Alright i might go off on a tangent so like feel free to clarify if its too far off base from intent

But i am personally actually ok with the angst on Gray’s side being saved for later, there are so many angsty moments already stuffed in there

->the fight being draining and difficult and ultimately a failure to keep them off him

->the parallel to gray disappearing from sight because of the cleaners

-> gray still getting pain pang and helping carmen where he can

->carmen desperately trying as many keys as she can when the robot finally comes

->carmen screaming for gray after he screamed for her

Like…phew thats alot happening and i think that it would get lost in the fray

Side note:

-> him taking the info that ACME finds carmen shady and she decided to work with him and actually wondering who gray is especially because she came to find him…hmm fun

-> gray watching all those civilian gets mistaken as spy movies and going ahhhh.ha.

BUT on the sentiment of gray being angry and not just relieved.

He does start to say it’s graham before he’s interrupted. And he has always been exasperatedly trying to put it aside to try and just be with her in the moment

Like…askjdnfdaksjf look at this face

Relief is not the only emotion here

And it does come to its breakpoint

because well  [the point is she’s lying to him.- bugs life voice]

And what a breakpoint it is because Carmen is not allowed to pretend that the person in front of her doesn’t have a thing to say about who she was protecting* 

So its not angst denied but angst delayed if that makes sense and the himalaya caper puts it into more focus than the jail could

Like  “alas why did he not simply look into her yearny eyes and make a decent life choice for once” aside [which is so fun to say]...

but the thing is …it's something that i do think gray gets to be mad about at that moment [not that he isn’t making a terrible life choice on the side but-]

…she lied to him by omission and flat out. And only came to rescue a fake version of him as far as he’s concerned. A fake version it seems she was pretending even further with by calling him gray and not graham.

….

GAH THIS IS WHY I DON’T GET WHY YOU GUYS THINK BLANKET LETTING CARMEN HAVE ZERO REVISIONS ON HOW SHE SEES HIM IS OK

And no just enemy who !had his chance at the cotillion you! doesn’t work as the final verdict either >:0

 [you're making the carmen sad and that has literally never worked plus carmen is just wrong for this on some level]

They’re so messy dude…like there’s so much to unravel and him being firm but straightforward about it is at least picks at this issue good enough for the moment…oof…was a lot like …oogh

But necessary. Gray is a person who actually has a reaction to this ya know [or character i mean- same thing].

His anger tends to be overshadowed by a lot else is all…[T.T multiple mistakes in a row babeyyyyyyyyyy] + his own prioritizing when it comes to his own emotions

And to make matters worse….OMFG THEY STILL LIKE EACH OTHER THEY’RE STILL SO MUCH MORE SAD INSTEAD OF MAD ABOUT IT ALL AND WANT TO BE TOGETHER AND ALL THE LIES BEING UNVEILED JUST MAKES THE TRUTH MUCH MORE NECESSARY AND IMPORTANT OMGGGGGGG GRRAH WHY ARE YOU 2 BEING SQUISHY CRIMES HAVE BEEN COMMITED!

They just need to tone down the nonsense…be even more honest with each other …they be wild out here…ya’ll can do it with time i believe in ye, even if that will mean more tough conversations with each other, i think they like each other enough

But yes. Him mad at it DOES make good angst. ..and tbh not even for just that moment…because …

[bijoumikhawal]

Bite the Hand that Starves You: Chapter Five

Fic as of this chapter contains: discussion of abortion, references to drug use, intersex and trans characters, torture/graphic violence, colonialism and its aftermath, implied sexual violence, disassociation

Kardasi: peikirvi- would translate to something like "concubine", specifically refers to an individual that socially presents as male, and was assigned such at birth, but can carry children (and often could impregnate someone else), who is legally bound to someone. Usually this is done with a pre-existing couple who has fertility issues.

Cheoche and cheyeda: could be translated as something like "patron" and "vassal". "Che" in Kardasi refers to charity, which is viewed as a duty to society rather than a choice made of good will. More specifically, a cheoche is a wealthy family/clan who takes on the affairs of a poorer or weaker one (the cheyeda), legally binding the two together for several generations. This can be typified in three ways: the cheyeda being a family who was once great and has become destitute, the family of a beloved artist, or a family of the "service class". For the latter, having a cheoche often provides a stable income, food, housing, and better schooling and training. Some cheyeda even have inheritance rights from their cheoche. However, while the relationship is glorified as going above and beyond ones duty, it is a system rife with abuse. The Tain and Garak families are bound this way.

Kisam- a matchmaker

kashmim- Cardassian time unit roughly equal to nine years

---

“I’ll be just a moment.” Garak said, sensing someone enter the shop and hearing the small noise maker he’d attached to the door be set off by the sliding motion of the door.

He finished the slight adjustment of the clothing in front of him, and turned around. “What can I-“

The words died In his throat when he saw just who had walked into his shop. Suddenly he was both full of white hot anger, and felt like a young, easily manipulated schoolboy again. “What are you doing here, Lokar.” He leaned into the anger. There was no time to question why he was alive, or how. The fact that his punishment had initially been execution still was within reason, given this… sight.

“Lokar? Oh, Elim, we were much closer than that, weren’t we?” Barkan leered at him, his voice, once simply gruff, now like sandpaper over the ears. A lesser man wouldn’t have noticed the hatred burning under his gaze. He looked around. “Charming little shop. I expected you to be up your elbows in soil or circuitry the next time I saw you.”

Garak moved so that the display table in the middle of the room was solidly between the two of them, and his way into his backroom was clear.

Not for the first time, he wished there was more than one entrance and exit to his shop. It had after all, been purposely designed so any proprietor within could be easily cornered by the Cardassian soldiers sent to fetch him. Almost all the shops had similar design features. He simply was unfortunate enough to be more intimately acquainted with them than the other merchants. The only other that had been there in those days was Quark, and his establishment had the privilege of at least one exit on every level.

“There isn’t much soil here I’m afraid, and I doubt Starfleet would allow a random civilian to get his hands in their circuitry.” He quashed the temptation to ask after Paladine and Kel. Barkan would only lie, and mock him all the while.

Barkan tilted his head. “A shame. You looked so at home when you were tending orchids on Romulus.”

Something about that made Garak snap. “You’re begging for an assassination, coming here.” Garak snarled. “The Bajorans did not forget who started ore processing here.”

Barkan sighed. “Such a shift in conversation, and here I was being civil.” He started to stalk in front of the table, not leaving Garak with a clear shot out the door. “And frankly, I’m surprised you’d say such a thing. After all, there are Bajorans that certainly remember you, yet look at you- sitting so nicely in your shop.”

Oh yes, they remembered him- that first morning, after the withdrawal, they certainly remembered him. In his low moments, he used to wish Odo hadn't interfered.

“You're being horribly cold to me, you know.” Barkan chided him. “A good Cardassian would be hospitable, even to a stranger.”

“I could hardly afford the hospitality you're used to.”

Loudly, someone cleared their throat. Garak saw Odo filling the doorway now, and had rarely felt such relief in his life. “Garak, is there a problem here?” He eyed Barkan suspiciously.

“No, constable.” He said in a tone that doubtlessly would only convince Odo that there was, in fact, a problem. “Lokar here was simply lost. He was looking for Del Floria’s, I believe.”

Barkan clearly recognized Odo, eyes flicking down to his Bajoran uniform with distaste. “It's nice seeing you again, Odo.”

Odo crossed his arms. “Del Floria’s is on the other side of the Promenade.”

Barkan smiled. “Thank you. Always helpful, aren't you?” He began walking out. “I’ll be on the station for the next few days, Elim.” He clapped Odo on the chest. “I have a great deal of catching up to do with Dukat, now that I’m returning to public life.”

Odo rubbed his chest, staring after him.

---

One could say Barkan Lokar possessed certain characteristics. Among them, unfortunately, was persistence. Going about his day, Barkan kept appearing just on the edge of his vision. Often, Odo was there as well.

Garak acted as though he hadn't noticed either of them. Things were stabilizing, now. He was able to (mostly) focus on work again. The outbreak of kunowaat- which he'd noticed, but hadn't been able to concern himself with- had no new patients, according to the station rumor mill. A Ferengi festival was upcoming.

It had been three days since Dr. Ammshah left.

Garak had a special delivery to pick up. He'd placed it before this whole mess, knowing it would take awhile back then. He'd almost forgotten it until today- when he got a message from the vendor saying it'd be dropped in corridor J, not too far from where it connected to the promenade. Little foot traffic to worry about, but still accessible.

Unfortunately, that made it an excellent tome for Barkan to be direct in his efforts once more. The seeming lack of presence as he entered the hall gave no comfort. Garak often regretted teaching Barkan what he'd learned from the regnar.

He could delay- his delivery wasn't out in the open- but it wasn't just that.

He had no desire to wait for Barkan to act.

He sensed the shift as the lights changed- they were kept dim here, due to the lack of traffic. It saved a bit of power. He kept walking.

With more time to plan, he could have put himself at great advantage. But then… he'd have to explain himself, after. And no matter what, that would go very poorly for him.

Barkan formally announced himself with a hand on Garak’s wrist.

Garak turned, twisting his way out of the grab. “Rather forward, aren't you?”

“Did you hit your head, Elim? I'm rather curious about where this amnesia of yours has come from.”

“I had hoped for your death. I think you'll find a better answer in that than playing doctor.” Garak said. And yes, he had. He’d felt foul and yet he knew that best outcome would be this man’s blood on his hands.

“You did a lot more than hope.” Barkan stepped forward. Perhaps he was goading Garak to run further down the corridor, away from the promenade.

“And was about as effective, it seems.” Garak didn't give in, standing firm.

“Oh, I wouldn't say that.” Barkan lunged forward him. Garak ducked, punching him in the ribs. Barkan wheezed out a laugh, catching himself. “I've learned my lesson about underestimating you.”

Garak waited. Watched. It was almost like the pit- his energy crashed against Barkan's, even as he stayed against the wall, catching his breath from the blow. Then- his foot came out, catching Garak’s weaker leg, and sending him back against the opposite wall.

Barkan turned, lunging again. He seemed more intent on grappling Garak than striking him. Garak dodged him again, this time not bothering to try and hit him.

That changed things. Garak had expected a fight- a most likely deadly one, yes, but something he could get it over with. Barkan was a hitter when angry, and not especially good with self control in private. He normally had no plan, simply seeking a way to satisfy his anger. Going with a grapple meant he had one.

He had to get out of here.

Barkan had kept him with his back facing more corridor- to get to the promenade, Garak had to get past him.

They both stayed locked in stance. Seeing what move the other would make- had Barkan figured out Garak had switched expectations?

Garak moved first, aiming to hit Barkan on his left arm and get past him.

The blow landed, but Barkan pivoted, turning and slamming them both against the wall.

Barkan’s hand moved to his chest, as though to press his comms for the Cardassian ship docked, when an alarmed voice called out.

“Garak!” Julian was quickly making his way towards the two of them.

Barkan startled at the interruption, and Garak took the opportunity to send him down to the floor by elbowing him in the face. He moved quickly, grabbing the doctor by the arm and steering the both of them to the more populated parts of the station.

“Garak, what was that about? Do you want me to call security? God, you’re bleeding!”

Garak touched his neck. It seemed at some point, Barkan had managed to scratch the unprotected skin in the center. “Doctor, in the future I would advise against you walking around near derelict parts of the station by yourself.” He stole a glance behind them, turning his torso. No sign of Barkan. Unfortunately, he knew Garak’s favorite trick, so that couldn’t be assured.

“Me?! Garak, I came looking for you. It was halfway through our usual lunch appointment, you hadn’t shown up, you weren’t in your shop, you hadn’t messaged me to say you had to miss it this week-“ Julian took a breath. “And I either found you being attacked, or…”

“The first option, I assure you.” It wasn't really soothing, Garak could tell, but it gave Julian more time to breathe instead of talking.

“My question stands about security, then.”

By now there were at least a dozen other people milling about, and Garak allowed himself to relax into his usual state of awareness. “No, I do not want to report this to security.” Dimly, he realized that Barkan had seen Julian with him. If Dukat hadn’t told him about the incident with Rugal, then surely now he would be on Barkan’s radar. “I might perhaps discuss it with constable Odo, off the record.”

Julian stopped him. “I doubt you’ll go to the infirmary with me to get your neck seen to.”

“You would be correct.”

Julian sighed. “Will you wait outside while I grab some equipment and let me do it in your shop, then?”

Garak considered it. “Yes, doctor.”

---

Sisko was going over his weekly communique from Starfleet went Odo came in early. He set aside the padd. "Constable. I've been eager for our daily meeting."

"Did something happen?" Odo tilted his head slightly.

"Dr. Bashir made a report today regarding something he hoped we'd coordinate on."

"A report about Garak." Odo harrumphed. "Coincidentally, that's why I'm here early today. One of Dukat's guests is someone you need to be aware of."

"Sounds like this is going to be a long talk. Take a seat, Constable."

Occasionally, Odo would remark that neither made any difference to him and remain standing, but not today. "Barkan Lokar was murdered close to three years ago. Today I saw him on the promenade."

Sisko sat up a little straighter at that.

Odo took a breath, considering. More out of imitation, Sisko guessed. "Lokar was the mastermind of the mining operation on Terok Nor, though he left the day to day to Dukat. His presence on the station, for that reason alone, is a security threat."

"And then there's the reason Dr. Bashir made his report." Sisko tapped his fingers on this desk. "He said he suspected they knew each other."

"He suspected correctly. Garak was Lokar’s… the closest translation would be concubine, peikirvi. His wife stayed on Prime, but Garak traveled with Lokar while he was on duty. Back then I only knew of Garak as “Elim”."

Sisko didn't hide the displeasure on his face at hearing the closest translation of the word. "I see."

"Garak was also supposed to have killed him. At the beginning of peace talks with the Federation, when the military was starting the evacuation of all non-essential personnel, Lokar stayed to help Dukat close out the mines. I was ordered by both to keep Garak confined to quarters, ostensibly for his own safety. A week later, he was found trying to steal a runabout by a patrol. The officer who found him tried to return him to his quarters, where they found Lokar's body, strangled." Odo paused. "No close examination of the body was allowed. Garak was incredibly agitated and bore injuries. I suspect he may have been intoxicated as well, but no testing was carried out. Dukat decided no further investigation was needed- to him, it was obvious there was a fight, and Garak had gone too far. Something about how the two had known each other since military school, and that Garak must have let old grievances get to him."

"I presume he was more biased than that." Garak at military school… now there was an odd picture.

Odo hmphed. "Of course. Lokar was his closest friend that wasn't a subordinate. He'd requested that the Central Command allow him to handle things personally. Garak was sentenced to labor under military detention after execution was denied for whatever reason, and Dukat assigned him to work as a tailor. Then he was intentionally left behind during the final evacuation."

Sisko gave in to the urge and grabbed his baseball. "So. I have a dead man walking, who happens to be one of the most hated men on the station, if not all of Bajor, and he has a personal violent history with one of our primary informants on Cardassia, who he's harassed today already."

"Twice."

"Twice." Sisko repeated, rubbing his temple. "First, keep an eye on Garak, but be subtle about it. Second, look into Lokar's whereabouts between now and then. Third, keep an eye on him, and don't be subtle. Increase security around the meeting tomorrow. Try to leave any investigation of the murder aside until Lokar is off the station. The rest, I leave to you."

Odo nodded. "As for my usual report…"

---

They'd tentatively resumed lunch. A day off from their usual schedule, unfortunately. There was a relieving quality to it- just like how the ones between the incident with the implant and this one had been, though stained with tension.

Three days worth of meetings... then Barkan would be off the station. He'd still be Garak’s problem... but at a distance.

Garak put that out of his mind. He had a young man to castigate. "As usual, it seems you don't understand your own literature. It's incredibly obvious that-" Garak stopped.

"Garak? Cat got your tongue?" Julian asked, amused.

Garak didn't bother chastising him for using idioms that gave the universal translator trouble. His attention had been pulled away by his parasite. Not only was Barkan around- he was walking toward them, which was what bothered Garak enough to stop.

Was he really going to do this in public?

The look in Barkan's eyes was cold, the way it was the first night Garak had navigated out of the wilderness successfully. Barkan’s gaze somehow became more cruel upon seeing Julian. “Ah. And here I had hoped you had some sense of properity within you.”

Julian tensed, recognizing the voice. "I didn't know Dukat had adopted the policy of giving his crew shore leave while a meeting is currently in progress."

Ignoring Julian, Barkan continued. “I never released you, Elim.”

“Never released me? I wasn’t aware I was a game bird.” Garak didn't deny the implication- the kind of person Barkan was, he'd take that as proof. The best thing to do was step around it, distance yourself from it.

"Game birds are better behaved."

The rest of the replimat was unsubtly looking over at them. Was that his game? After all, there are Bajorans that certainly remember you, yet look at you- sitting so nicely in your shop.

Many of the Bajorans previously on the station had left after withdrawal. Most of the people who associated Garak and Lokar that Garak still had to interact with weren't Bajoran- Odo, Quark and his staff, and so on.

It wasn't that Garak had never been publicly accosted by another Cardassian before. Most ignored him, but a few lacked the self control. What was making this differ was that anyone listening- even if they didn't quite get the implications, and many Bajorans did- could tell this was personal.

It was hard to predict how this would impact him down the road.

"Game birds don't follow orders, Lokar. They fly out of instinct. Perhaps you can relate." Garak turned away from him. "Speaking of, do mind your manners, doctor."

Dr. Bashir had been staring at Barkan the whole time. His attention snapped to Garak once called upon, eyes shifted, but still visibly thinking about how to get rid of Barkan. It was charming.

"I'm sorry, Garak. At my age I should know how to focus on a conversation, and not ignore someone."

Garak didn't laugh, but he did smile a bit. "Being aware of your flaws is good, but you need to act against them." He chided. "What would you do if you were at a medical conference, and ended up snubbing someone important because there was a fight at the snack bar you couldn't ignore?"

"How crass, Ten Lubak." Barkan said, sounding genuinely disappointed as he stalked away. He'd gotten what he wanted, after all- no need to linger.

---

Pay me a visit. And do not dress ostentatiously. The message read.

Garak frowned at it. When he was younger, he would have wondered if being ordered to return to his childhood home was a test, given that he was not to do so unless under specific circumstances. At this point, he knew the summons themselves were not the test.

He had a green outfit that would work well enough. It was a nice day- he might as well walk.

His mother was the one to greet him. "They're in the study." she told him. No recognition beyond what she'd give a normal guest- this was not a personal visit on Tain’s end, then. And, he already had a guest.

He nodded to her. “Thank you.”

Garak had not often gone upstairs when he lived here, and even less often to the study. He opened the door himself- he was allowed to, after all. Tain had his guests escorted if he felt guarded about such a thing as them opening doors by themselves.

He'd already had on a smile, and kept it firm even upon seeing the other guest.

He had expected Barkan would check if his “Elim Vronok” story was true, but this seemed a little much. At least he knew the role to play now; Elim Vronok, disgraced Bamarren washout who found out he was a bastard, changed his name, and now was a service class gardening drone. That still left the test…

“Barkan Lokar. I didn't expect to see you again so soon after our last meeting.” He gave it a formal distance, with a little warmth. He turned to Tain and bowed forward. “Patron.” Most likely, Lokar was here because Tain was officially the Garak family’s cheoche (this branch, anyway).

“You're being terribly formal, Elim. Sit, we have kanar.” Tain gave off the appearance of being relaxed, his presence withdrawn. And he did indeed, have a bottle of Kanar out and open. The two of then had each already poured a glass.

Garak did as he was told (it was never a request) and sat in the spare chair, pouring himself some kanar. Owing to the status of Elim Vronok compared to the room, he poured just half of the usual amount. “Might I ask what the occasion is?”

“How long has it been since Bamarren, Elim?” Barkan asked, looking into his drink.

“About two kashmim.”

“Two kashmim.” Barkan repeated. “As you know, Palandine and I were already betrothed back then. We formalized our relationship after completion of our studies at Bamarren. Two kashmim… and we only have one child.”

Garak bowed his head. “My condolences.” It was terror, to have just one child- that was only one opportunity for your hopes, ambitions, continuation of your name, and of course, only one opportunity for Cardassia. It would weigh especially heavy on Barkan, the man who taught Garak the real meaning of the word opportunity.

Deaths had decreased from what they'd been just before Garak was born, with hunger and illness rampant before the state made reforms. But both still hounded children in particular. And war…

Barkan sighed. “I love Kel dearly. The responsibility of being the only Lokar of her generation would crush her. Seeing you on Romulus reminded me… that I have options.”

The artifacts Tain kept on the walls suddenly made the room feel smaller.

So. That was what he'd come for. A slight panic must have appeared somewhere in him- his eyes, his posture. Barkan set down the glass, making a beseeching gesture. “I've been perfectly formal in discussing the matter before you arrived.”

Of course he had. He was wearing his newfound refinement like a shawl. Garak hadn't even been worried about Tain hearing of his school boy liaisons until it was alluded to.

Garak smiled as though relieved. “As fits the occasion.”

How did Barkan know? Had it come up while he was checking his Vronok story or had it been known at Bamarren and kept quiet as future leverage?

“Why me?” Garak asked, cloaking the question in a blend of bashfulness and humility. “Surely your family could find you a peikirvi, or a kisam could look further afield.”

Barkan smiled- the same smile he'd used on Garak at Bamarren. “I already know you, Elim. I came to like you and respect you during our time at school. I know you and Palandine won't destroy the household with petty strife. Those are guarantees I cannot get, no matter how clever my family or a kisam is, if I am marrying a stranger.”

“Well argued. Don't you agree, Elim?” Tain looked to him.

Barkan was friends with Skrain Dukat. Son of Procal Dukat, the would be coup leader. That was Tain’s angle here. Keep close to Barkan to keep aware of the Dukats.

How funny. Procal would despise his son's friend if he could see this now. An aristocratic military man raising a service class bastard to the honor of his peikirvi- what a fit he and every other member of the True Way would have.

“Very well argued.” How fortunate for Tain, that Barkan had thought of this himself and come to Tain as Garak’s cheoche. The latter was no matter of fortune, of course. Just good planning. As was this: positioning Garak this way had the potential to be very good planning.

Who was Garak to deny the will of his father, patron, head of the Order?

---

Julian knocked on the door frame to alert Sisko of his presence. "I have forms for you to sign." This was the last thing he needed to do- then he was off to bed.

"Oh, wonderful." Sisko lowered the padd he was looking at. "Inventory reports?"

"Among other things." Julian replied. He handed the data rod over to Sisko. "There's also requisition forms and a post-hoc form for that medical consult I had to call in." Normally, Julian would have done that before whoever he'd called in arrived, but Dr. Ammshah had caught him off guard.

"Did that go well?" Sisko connected the rod and the padd.

"Confidential." Julian said.

Sisko's brows raised as he skimmed the papers. Julian could pinch himself- normally, he would at least say if something went well. His knee jerk response gave the opposite impression, and he couldn't correct it. Sisko could probably guess who the consult concerned, and of course, had just reported to Odo the other day...

"This... is a long set of requisition forms." Sisko said after a moment. "Even for how many people have been ill."

"That's just how this disease is. It doesn't help that it's one of those where people tend to catch something else while already sick." Julian leaned on the back of the chair across from Sisko.

"How have you and the infirmary staff been holding up? Anyone giving you trouble?"

"No, no trouble- it's about as you'd expect." Julian replied. "We aren't being pushed to our limits yet, but we'll all be very glad when this is done with."

Sisko's eyes lingered on him, not bothering with subtlety as he squinted at Julian's face, then his uniform. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure. I'm very careful to make sure I don't give anyone more work than they can handle, and we managed to borrow a few nurses from the nearest outpost planetside." This was true- and key to this, just as much as the extra nurses, which of course no one else knew, was that Julian could do the work of two people in the infirmary. He was careful about it. No one noticed anything obviously unusual. "It's under con-"

A yawn rudely interrupted him. Julian felt his face warm slightly.

Sisko sighed. "Don't be over eager, doctor. It's better to ask for help early on if you need it, and to overestimate."

Julian laughed. "Thank you, sir, but I know my limits, and the limits of my staff."

"Good. Keep them in mind, and don't be shy to ask when you need something." Sisko nodded at him and raised the padd in Julian's direction. "I'll send these off once I'm done."

Julan inclined his head. "Thank you again."

[beigepillow]

How can Yashiro not understand anything at all about Doumeki's behavior, just like Doumeki does about him? I don't understand. Lying to each other endlessly is not a normal relationship. They must somehow feel each other, adapt, look for ways to get closer.

I think it is actually very realistic for them to not understand that the other loves them. Mental health issues can convince you of the absolute worst of yourself and it is not logical but it takes a lot of work to undo that thinking that neither has access to. Also I think the fact that we know certain things about them makes us able to see things differently from what they see. We know Doumeki rejoined the yakuza to be in Yashiro’s world but Yashiro doesn’t know that. For all he knows Doumeki is in sakura because he can make a lot of money with them. If I were to take out what we know as the audience, Doumeki does genuinely seem to almost hate Yashiro at times. He gives Yashiro mixed messages where he’ll kiss him passionately and then he’ll treat him with such coldness like Yashiro’s emotions don’t matter at all. Of course we know differently but there is an uncertainty with Doumeki even the readers have since we don’t really get his thoughts and I kind of think that’s why he gets more criticism or everything he does needs to be analyzed in a way that shows him doing it to be with Yashiro in the end. Otherwise that would mean him not loving Yashiro as much as he once did and more heartbreak for Yashiro. As for Yashiro, he also definitely gives Doumeki mixed messages. He shows contempt and anger at the thought of choosing Doumeki over others but then pulls him in. Imo, Yashiro’s constant insults after they reunited along with seeming to prefer sex with others even with the impotency on top of everything that happened 4 years, I really don’t get why so many were so sure that Doumeki knew of Yashiro’s feelings. If I were Doumeki, I would feel that Yashiro could never love me. Maybe that is personal flaw of mine though. I would argue that they always have hid some of their intentions. Yashiro always did things without telling Doumeki why and now Doumeki is doing exactly that. Honestly I think Doumeki is acting very similarly to how Yashiro used to but there is a different tone to it since Doumeki is imposing and physically stronger than Yashiro. Yeah, they don’t have a normal relationship but consider their environment. Many of us struggle with normal relationships while being civilians lol. However, I root for them because I really think they can be genuinely good for each other in the end.

[patxhwrk]

ooh jump scare /j Haha hey guys guess whos back

lost the ask but an anon asked: "I’m gonna need a part 2 of “in due time” cause that was amazing! Like what did y/n do to anger celestial, what happens when the fatui find out there death was faked will they try to get them back or deem them a traitor? The story was genuinely amazing, great work!!" thank u anon u are also great!! ^^

Sorry if youve requested from me and havent seen your request. I havent deleted any of the requests and i might take longet to post than i did before, but im gonna be writing fics i want to write to get back into the flow of writing. until then, have this fic i wrote like two months ago and never got to post :D lost my files so things are gonna look a little different, but its all good! Hope you guys enjoy this, might be a little different from In Due Time ^^ and might be a bit shitty because i forgot what my original idea was haha (also i listened to The Magnus Archives which kinda inspired this. its a horror podcast and if youre interested, you can listen to it on spotify or on their website. its a really good story and i really recommend it!)

-ˋˏ✄— Distant Watcher

[ pt 1 - In Due Time ]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ Fatui x Reader, Aether x Reader

Pronouns: they/them

"The past, nothing but a wilting memory."

.navigation. // .genshin impact masterlist.

To anger the gods is no easy feat.

Even if a threat was directed at the Celestia, they would merely shake it off, knowing that they hold power over anyone.

But this being. This...creature.

They are inhuman.

Neither mortal, nor were they divine. A shooting star from a different world, but they were unlike the huntress of the wild named Aloy.

To their world, they were seen above many.

They were like the Baladeer, but instead of a puppet created to serve a nation, they were created to watch over their people, to protect them.

A watcher, a spectator.

The observer, the eye.

Y/n L/n was sent by the divine of another world to watch over Celestia.

And that itself was enough of a threat.

─𖠄࿐

The moment they landed on the land of Teyvat, their memory had been erased. That was the first step that Celestia took as a precaution.

They may be from a different world, but as long as they were in Teyvat, Celestia could watch over them.

Though, no matter how much they would forget, one thing remained that not even Celestia can get rid of

Their purpose was to watch over the divine, and that would not change.

To them, watching, observing, all and any was what they felt the need to do. To watch as a shadow in the corner, or to observe as a civilian in the audience.

In audience of what? They could not remember.

But as they found the Fatui, as the Tsaritsa herself took in the outlander, they watched in silence as the memories slowly flooded back in.

Celestia could not keep them away.

So death had been the final option.

─𖠄࿐

That could not keep them away, too.

It only made it harder for Celestia.

Despite being gods, they could not find the watcher in disguise. They could not trace the bits of the Pyro vision they had given them in order to keep track of them.

Y/n L/n was nowhere in Teyvat, or so they thought.

But that was not the issue of the present.

Now, in the throne of the Zapolyarny palace, was the Tsaritsa, looking down at the traveller as he writhed in the grasp of Pierro.

"It is your choice, Y/n," she said, gaze turned to the outlander. "Heed at my call or he will face a fate worse than death."

She reaches out a hand, and speaks with a booming voices. "Come, distant watcher, as we bring mayhem upon Celestia."

Y/n reaches out a hand towards the archon, their back towards Celestia.

"May the divine who created you be pleased with our success."

—PATCHWRK!

[tarnishedxknight]

FFXII Week ~ Day 3 Prompt: Cycles

{out of dalmasca} Disclaimer: This post may include canon-divergent interpretations of canon characters, info about OCs featured on this blog, and AUs that may not align with the canon plot/characters of FFXII and/or may contain triggering material.

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There are so many important cycles in FFXII that have the potential to shape the minds and destinies of many of the characters as well as define the trajectories of wars, socio-political systems, and the futures of nations. Whether on an individual/family level or on the world stage, there are numerous cycles depicted throughout the game, and many of these cycles are as important for their existence as they are for how they were ultimately broken. I'd like to discuss some of the cycles featured in FFXII and the importance of how some character broke the mold and were able to disrupt those cycles for the better.

Cycles of Hatred, Anger, Death, and Revenge ~ Ashelia & Vaan

Through the course of the events of the game, both Ashelia and Vaan learned to set aside their anger in favor of more productive and/or peaceful outcomes to their problems and grievances. They learned to stop viewing the Archadian people as "Others," to stop hating and wanting revenge, and to stop blaming others for past events instead of moving forward to a more positive future.

Ashelia has seen all eight of her brothers, her husband, and her father lost to war. Losing that many siblings would drive anyone to hate the empire some of them died fighting against, or the war conditions that likely led to the outbreak of the plague that killed the rest of them. Losing her father and husband certainly filled her with rage and grief that drove her to seek revenge against the dreaded Archadian Empire. At first, she did not think about the innocent civilians of Archadia, counting the empire as a monolith and its people as "Others" compared to her own.

She could have sought revenge for her father and responded to Gabranth's taunts at the Pharos with impulsive anger of her own, but she showed restraint. Ultimately, despite all that she had lost to Archadia, she chose not to use nethicite to destroy the empire. Archadia destroyed the capital of Nabradia with nethicite, and if Ashe had used nethicite on them, those left would no doubt have wanted to retaliate against Dalmasca, causing a cycle of death and revenge. Perhaps the cycle of death began with Raithwall, conquering all the lands he did in order to force an age of peace. Ashelia stopped that cycle by choosing to find a diplomatic solution to the war.

Vaan could have done also sought revenge for his brother, Reks, when Gabranth revealed himself as his killer. He certainly carried enough anger with him, as was evident in how he was so long in letting go of his hatred of Basch, even after finding out the truth of what happened. But, like Ashelia, Vaan eventually recognized that revenge would neither solve anything nor would it bring back their loved ones. The "eye for an eye" approach to death and grief only breeds more hatred, sorrow, and desire for revenge in those left behind. Vaan and Ashelia both chose to take a higher road and not continue those cycles.

Cycles of Violence and War ~ Larsa & Reddas

Little Lord Larsa grew up hearing of his father's own war efforts, and no doubt of the destruction of Landis using nethicite, since he was mentored by Gabranth. His two older brothers were executed by yet another brother for trying to overthrow their father, and that brother then turned around to order the use of nethicite that destroyed Nabudis. By the time he was the tender age of twelve, Larsa just wanted it all to stop... the killing, the large-scale weaponry, the mass deaths of civilians, and the war in general. Larsa sought out diplomatic approaches and solutions to the foreign policy issues the empire faced due to the war to end it instead of using it as an excuse for selfish ambitions or uncontrolled expansion of the empire. He didn't think problems of violence needed to be solved with more violence, choosing not to continue that cycle and really what the legacy of his House had been for generations.

And Reddas, formerly known as Judge Magister Zecht, was so affected by the cycle of extremely violent warfare he'd become a part of that he not only wanted nothing more to do with it himself, but sought to prevent future generations from going down the same path. He destroyed the city of Nabudis with nethicite at Vayne's order, something that deeply scarred him. Internalizing his responsibility for that atrocity and knowing Emperor Gramis had committed a similar one with Landis before him, Reddas implored Ashelia not to make the same terrible choice. Ultimately, he chose to sacrifice himself and destroy the Sun Cryst for her and the good of the world to prevent shards of it from ever being used for such violence again.

Cycle of Isolation ~ Fran & Mjrn

Sisters Fran and Mjrn both made the difficult decision to leave the Wood and the isolated existence of the Viera to see the outside world for themselves. Decided years apart and for different reasons, each of them were not content to hide away from the world and ignore all those outside their community.

Fran had her own reasons, which the game never really fully disclosed, but seeing as how she fell in with Balthier and became a sky pirate, it is safe to assume her decision may have something to do with discontent at a safe/boring life, the desire to try new things, see new peoples, and visit new lands, or perhaps simply a restless spirit and wanderlust. Although she misses her family, people, and the Wood itself, Fran does not regret her decision, though neither does she encourage others to follow in her footsteps. It's a choice one has to make for themself, and for the right reasons, at the right time in their life.

Having heard stories about the suffering other races were enduring outside the Wood due to the war, Mjrn wanted to see what the world was facing, what her people were ignoring. Ultimately, she felt that remaining isolated while others were in need of help. was wrong of her people to do, especially when so many were seriously suffering. After being told by Fran that she ought not to leave the village, perhaps Mjrn didn't break the cycle of isolation in which she'd grow up, but rather began to challenge and chip away at it. Who knows what she and Fran before her may have started? Maybe future generations of Viera won't have such an isolationist view of the world.

Cycles of Obsession, Forced Expectation, and Family Toxicity ~ Balthier

For years, Balthier watched his father, Dr. Cid, descend into what he thought was madness, and what may have actually been Venat's influence and a zealous need for power. Despite loving his father and being groomed to follow in his footsteps to some degree as well as handed a position of power as a Judge, he chose to leave and not enable his father any further. That was a decision that was incredibly difficult for him to make, especially since his father assumed his son would want to work with him, but Balthier decided to break free of his father's expectations and change his life.

Had he stayed and continued to try and convince his father to abandon his unhealthy obsessions, Cid would likely have dragged and worn Balthier down with him, perhaps resulting in Balthier emerging a more bitter, angry, or even mentally fragile individual himself. Instead, Balthier made the painful decision to make a clean break of a toxic sitution, despite the expectations heaped upon him, and start over. That's not an easy thing to do, especially when it involves leaving behind loved ones who refuse to change, but it ensures that these detrimental cycles won't be carried over for yet another generation in Balthier's family.

Cycles of Abandonment, Running Away From One's Problems, and Being Made a Victim ~ Basch & Noah/Gabranth

Basch abandoned his mother and twin brother as a youth because he refused to bend to and accept the empire that had killed his father and destroyed his homeland. It was a decision he regretted ever since, and he refuses to make the same mistake again. He doesn't fold under the weight of his one mistake made, no matter how heavy it becomes on his soul. Instead, he spends the rest of his life attempting to set it right in some way, by shedding the arrogant, selfish boy he was to be a selfless, protective force for many.

He has trained countless soldiers for the Dalmascan military, imparting what he's learned to them. He did not abandon his king, even when very questionable domestic and foreign policy decrees were made. And after losing everything, and having every reason to be bitter or resentful, Basch stands by Ashe. He does this even when she is angry or frustrated with him, even when times get very hard, because he refuses to be anything other than dependable to her. He supports her in a way he wishes he could have supported Noah, and in ways he hopes Ashelia will treat her own family she'll have one day. He enables her to solve her problems in constructive ways, to shape the queen she'll be one day and to ensure that he does not leave her with a legacy of victimhood or running from one's problems.

Noah has accomplished similar stages of recovery and breaking cycles in his own life. He, who felt the burn of Basch's poor decision when they were youths, has also grown to be a loyal and protective person. Despite everything he's had to endure with nethicite poisoning, surviving in Archadia, rising through the ranks of the military, etc., he continues to push on and strive for better things.

Believing that a better future for Archadia is possible with Larsa, Noah defends him from Vayne at the cost of his life, refusing to abandon someone who looked up to him as a guardian and mentor. And refusing to abandon his own son, according to my own headcanons heh. He doesn't take what Basch did and perpetuate it by abandoning ones he loves, or take it and decide to lay down and give up. Instead, he fights for better in his ow life and is perhaps the protective, dependable source of support to Larsa that Basch was not to him. He became what he wished he'd had as a youth.