#and the ramp back up of headaches

[misanthropiczombie]

.

[lilasturns]

GOOD GIRL.

you finally get a taste of what it's like to be a 'bad girl', all thanks to chris sturniolo.

warnings: fingering, stoner!chris, high school au, driving intoxicated (pls dont do this ever?), NOT EDITED.

Nothing was going to stop you from your plans. School, study, work, and home was on repeat, 7 days a week.

Ever since you started High School, you decided it was time to put all the bullshit aside and focus on what really mattered -- college.

That was your end goal. Your 'self-actualization' as you called it. Nothing was going to get in your way from being successful.

Although you were a busy girl every week, it didn't stop you from having a social life. You knew how to balance it. Hanging out with your friends wasn't something you did much, but you still had them, which was most important, right?

Your friends were finally able to convince you to go to at least one party in your high school career.

You were standing alone in Nate Doe's kitchen, drinking a Coke out of a red solo cup.

"What's in that?" You heard a low-pitched voice from behind you ask, feeling a hand on your shoulder. Your body tensed as an unknown individual had placed a hand on your shoulder. You weren't that welcoming, were you?

"It's a coke." You answered non-chalantly, bringing it up to your lips to take another sip.

"I hate coke." The boy responded, taking his hand off your shoulder. He walked around to the opposite side of the kitchen you were in, playing with a lighter in his hand.

The flickering blue and red lights were giving you a massive headache, and the blasting music ramped through your body so rapidly you thought you might have a heart attack at any moment.

You stared at the boy across from you, studying his features. Sure, you knew who the triplets were, but you didn't know much about them. You could only assume this was Chris, from the lighter he held in his hand.

"Never seen you at one of these." He sighed.

"Friends wanted me to come." You explained.

"Want me to give you something better to drink?" He asked and walked closer to you. "Who knows if you'll ever come to one of these parties again, right?"

He stood next to you with his head tilted, his eyes squinting at you. His tongue ran over his teeth, causing his cheekbones to thin out, showing you his chiseled jaw.

"I don't drink." You said, still facing front, away from him.

"You don't have to drink," he chuckled, "I got something else with me."

You placed down your cup, side-eyeing him. He continued to stare at you, and you could see him studying your own features before you spoke up again:

"Why do you want me to do something so bad?" You asked.

"Maybe I'm just trying to help you have fun." He defended, his hand playing with the ends of your hair. "Come on, leave with me, you wanna have some fun?"

You turned to look at him, his hand moving to cup your cheek in response. "What'd ya say, hm?" You nod, feeling drawn in by his charm.

"Good girl."

So you were here, in the passenger seat of Chris Sturniolo's car, him teaching you how to smoke a blunt.

You release the last bit of smoke of your mouth, swallowing deeply, trying not to cough. He chuckles at your queasy looking face, patting you on the shoulder.

"Just cough." He commands, and you let out a loud cough, turning away from him and covering your mouth with your arm.

You could feel his eyes on you once again, causing you to turn and look at him.

"Come here." He said, tilting his head to the side. Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes wander, unsure of what he meant.

"Come sit on my lap." He beckoned and your eyes widen, looking at him up and down as he leaned back in the drivers seat. You lifted your right leg over the console, placing it on the outside of his left, followed by your left leg lifting over the console and placing it on the outside of his right.

He placed a hand on your lower back, right above your ass. You squirmed, not expecting him to touch you.

"You've never been touched before, huh?" He questions, his hand traveling down to your ass, squeezing it. You shake your head, your hands pressed against his thighs.

"You want me to touch you?" He asks. "All you gotta do is just say the word."

You stared into his eyes, pondering. Were you really about to let Chris Sturniolo do this? You wanted this, though. Deep know you knew you did.

"Yes." You agreed, your voice low. You took in a gulp, still making eye contact with Chris.

“Good girl,” he praises, running up to your waist. “Such a good girl.”

His other handle cups your cheek, with his thumb running over your jawline. You bite your lip in anticipation, tilting your head a bit.

He leans his head up to kiss you, his soft, pink lip slowly gliding against yours. He kissed you slowly, his tongue brushing against the front of your lips ever so gently.

You parted your lips, letting his tongue enter your mouth. He pulls you down so that you're basically laying on his chest. His hands move down to your waist, squeezing your hips. You rest your hand on his chest and the other on his face.

He begins to move quicker, his kissing becoming sloppier and messier. His hands travel lower, grasping your ass, causing you to shiver. You move your hips against his, and he lets out a groan in response.

His hand goes right under your skirt, his index finger running right over your clit and down to your folds. You pull away from the kiss, the new feeling making you tense.

"You're dripping, baby, you feel that?" He asks, running a hand up from your clit and down to your folds, then back up again.

You whimper, nodding, as you can feel your arousal collecting in your panties. He smirks, biting his lip.

"It's okay," he reassures, "I'm gonna help you."

You nod as he moves your panties aside with one hand. His fingers find your clit, your mouth dropping at the pleasure you experience from just his simple touch.

"Have you ever touched yourself before, hm?" He asks, rubbing light circles over your clit.

You shake your head. It's not a complete lie. You've tried, but you've just never been in the mood to do it. But right now, you sure are.

The feeling that you have is indescribable. You feel desperate, as if you are yearning to be touched. You can feel yourself practically dripping, your body feeling warmer and warmer by the second.

Chris fingers start to move faster, circling your clit even quicker. You throw your head back, letting out a light moan. His fingers dip down to your folds as he runs his index finger through, teasing your hole.

"Please, Chris." You beg, gripping onto his white plain t-shirt, staring at him with pleading eyes.

"You don't have to beg, okay?" He responds softly, entering his finger inside you, slowly.

Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, gripping harder on the front of his shirt. He uses his middle finger only, moving in and out easily, before entering in his ring finger.

You grind your hips down on his fingers, basically riding them. The way you're feeling is like none other. Your feel filled just by his veiny fingers, and you can't help but wonder what his dick must feel like.

He moves faster, his fingers pumping in and out of you. Your moans keep dropping, incapable of keeping them in. His thumb reaches to your clit and he rubs small circles on it, and let out a loud whine, as the pleasure becomes more intense than it was a moment before.

You can feel a knot start to form in your stomach and you lay on his chest, moaning, and your eyes closed completely shut.

"You need'a cum, yeah?" He whispers down to you, his other hand petting your hair. "Tell me how you feel."

"I-I..feels like, good." You respond, unable to get words out as he moves his fingers and thumb, trying to make you come.

"I know, baby," he soothes, "just let it go."

As if on command, you can feel yourself 'let go', as if you released the knot if your stomach. The pleasure feels too much, so you hop off his lap, his fingers pulling out of you. You groan from the loss of contact with your legs lightly shaking as you sit back in the passenger seat.

He looks at you with a smirk on his face,

"God, I can't want to ruin you."

[dandylovesturtles]

Decided to write a quick little something for @whumperless-whump-event Day 4: chronic pain/"I'm used to it."

featuring, of course, Sidelined Leo!

like I said before, since it's disability pride month I'd like to do a few things for the Sidelined AU, so hopefully I will find time for more as the days go. For now, I hope you enjoy this!

-----

Leo can tell it's going to be a bad day the moment he wakes up.

The pain in his arms and legs has grown from it's constant dull thrum to a more present burn, and there's a pinch between his eyes that tells him a headache is on the way. Really, he's not surprised; the last few days have been really good. He even went out on a mission two days ago, and did a little skateboarding yesterday. It stands to reason that his body has crashed out on him.

Sometimes he feels angry and bitter about it. Today, he just feels a sort of resigned acceptance. And that means maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

He hits the button on the side of the bed so it bends him into a reclined position, then fumbles around on his side table until his hand lands on his pill organizer. He should probably text someone to bring him water, but it feels like a pain, so he dry swallows them one by one and just resolves not to mention doing that to Dad or Raph.

Then he finally blinks the sleep out of his eyes and looks around his room and... darn it, his chair isn't here. Where'd he even leave it...

His memory is a complete blank on that one, so he sighs and clears his throat.

"Hey, Shell-man?"

There's only a second of silence before Shelldon's voice echoes from who even knows where. Donnie rigged his new room with more electronics than Leo will ever know about.

"S'up bro?"

"You know where my chair is?" he asks, like Shelldon can't track it instantly.

"You left it in the arcade, dude," comes the answer. "Want me to wheel it over?"

Yeah, no way he's getting himself to the arcade today. "Sure, thanks, Shelly."

"No problem, dude!"

Leo lets his head flop back on his pillows while he wants for his chair to be delivered. He fumbles around for his phone this time and takes a look at his reminders.

6:00 PM: Concert with Mikester

"Crap," he mutters, closing his eyes. Right, that yokai hip-hop group Mikey wanted to go see. Leo had promised he'd go with him, but he doubts he'll be able to do it now.

It's not that big a deal. Raph or Donnie will probably go with him if Mikey makes big enough puppy eyes at them. It's just, Leo had been kinda excited about it, too...

The dark buzz that heralds his anxiety flares up, and he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slow. He doesn't want this day to turn terrible. He needs to relax and accept the things he can't change, like April always says. Even when it sucks.

There's a whir of electronics that signals the arrival of his chair. Leo waits until it parks itself next to his bed, then he swings his legs over the bed and stands up just long enough to sit down in the chair again. Even that leaves him feeling a little winded, but he doubts his arms could have handled the transfer so he doesn't bother trying.

He wheels around his room until he finds his big comfy unicorn hoodie, then drives out into the rest of the lair, making his way up the ramp to the kitchen. He can smell breakfast cooking, and hear Raph's voice.

"Morning fam," he says as he comes in, trying to keep his voice upbeat even though he already feels tired.

"Morning Leo!" Mikey echoes, turning around with a whole plate of waffles. His smile falters a little when he sees the chair and the hoodie. "Oof. Flare up?"

"Yeah," he admits, steering his chair into the empty part of the kitchen table. Mikey sets the waffle plate down, and without having to be asked Raph starts fixing some for Leo, with blueberries on top.

It took work for them both to find the line between helping and babying, but they're better at this now. Leo doesn't mind Raph helping him out this way, especially because he'd rather not make a mess of the kitchen table.

"Mikey, can you grab my fat fork?"

"It has a name," says a tired voice behind him, and Leo smirks as Donnie comes around the side and makes for the coffee machine.

"I just used it. It's the fat fork."

"It's a GeniusBuilt Secure Grip Adjustable Fork-"

"I'm not saying all that."

Donnie huffs. Mikey snickers, swinging around him to deliver the fork with the thick grip to Leo. He has another set with a loop that can secure to his hand if he needs it, but this one is fine for now.

"Here!

"Thanks Angelo."

"Did you take your meds this morning?" Raph asks.

"Yes, Mom," says Leo, rolling his eyes as he cuts off a bite of waffle.

"Really? 'Cause Raph didn't hear you ask anyone to bring you water-"

"I had some leftover Gatorade in my room," Leo lies quickly.

"Uh-huh." Raph looks at him skeptically. "Leo, you know taking pills without water hurts your throat."

"Meh meh meh, you'll hurt your throat," Leo repeats in a mocking voice. Raph reaches over like he's going to cuff Leo on the head, then seems to rethink it and steals some of his blueberries instead. "Hey!"

"You are all so noisy already," comes Splinter's voice, and he finally comes into the room to join them, wearing the robe he slept in. He looks up at Leo in his chair. "Are you in pain, Blue?"

Leo hums an affirmative. "It's not that bad, though," he adds, because it's not. Comparatively.

Now it's his dad's turn to look skeptical. "Are you sure?"

Leo grimaces. "It's... a little worse than normal," he amends. "But I can handle it."

"Mmm..." Splinter walks off to get in his own seat. "Let us know if it gets worse."

"Yeah, yeah..."

The conversation moves on to other topics, up until Leo's wheelchair beeps at him. He groans, glancing down at the battery indicator, which is firmly in the red.

"You forgot to charge it, didn't you?" asks Donnie, looking amused.

"Shut up, I've been busy!" Leo snaps back.

"If you left it on the charger when you aren't using it then this wouldn't happen."

"Alright, anyone else have any criticisms for me today?" he says, except it comes out a shade too bitter and Donnie's grin falters.

Good job, Leon, way to be a dick. He winces, focusing again on his waffles. His arm is sore from the effort of eating and he wants to crawl back in bed and stay there, which is exactly the sort of attitude he's been trying to avoid.

"...I have the backup chair in the lab if you need it," says Donnie. A peace offering.

"Thanks," says Leo, returning it.

So after breakfast, Donnie helps him swap chairs. His main one is put on the charger and he wheels himself to the living room with the backup, then calls for Raph.

"Think you can help me get comfy, big guy?" he asks.

"Of course," says Raph with a grin. "What do you want?"

It's nice that he asks now, instead of assuming.

Leo directs him to help him onto the couch, then Raph gets him his fluffy blue blanket to cover him up. Even though he took his meds, he can feel the pain radiating at his hips and knees and he guesses he's going to need more later. He sets an alarm on his phone and settles in with a Jupiter Jim flick to fall asleep to.

He's not out yet when he hears the pad of feet, then feels the couch dip as Mikey sits next to him.

"Hey Leo," he says softly, and Leo gives a hum to let him know he's still awake. "You think... you're gonna feel up for the concert tonight?"

Oh right. Shoot. It had already slipped Leo's mind, and now he feels guilty all over again.

He opens his eyes and tilts his head so he can see Mikey. "I don't think so. I'm sorry."

"You don't gotta apologize!" says Mikey quickly. "I'm sorry you're having a rough day."

"It's fine," says Leo. "I'm used to it."

"I'm still sorry," says Mikey firmly. He gets up, then comes over so he can give Leo a very awkward couch hug. "I wish you didn't have to hurt," he says, sincerely.

Leo leans into the hug. Feels the dark buzz of anxiety ebb away.

"Hey, it's alright. All you guys make it easier."

Mikey beams at that, bouncing back up. "Hey, I know," he says. "I'll get Donnie to help me set up a sweet livestream so you can see the concert from right here!"

They don't have to go to all that trouble for him. But Leo looks up at his little brother's shining smile and can't say no.

"That'd be really cool," he says, and Mikey claps his hands.

"Yes! Okay, I'll go get Dee and we'll get on it!"

He races away. Leo chuckles, curling up under his blanket.

Maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

(Full HC)

We've had the M6 bodyswapping with their familiars, we've had the M6 bodyswapping with each other… But what kind of antics would ensue if the M6 had a bodyswapping incident with MC?

The Arcana HCs: When M6 bodyswap with MC

~ anon, you spectacular genius ~

-- to set the scene --

You know you're in a magic-infused dream as soon as you open your eyes. Off to your right, you can see your beloved standing in the open air, staring at the glowing ball of light that hovers in front of them. You're about to remind them of the cardinal magic rule - don't touch the mystery orb - but by the time you call their name, it's too late. Imagine your surprise when you wake up to your own face staring back at you from your pillow!

Julian

He's staring at you in horror because he knew his eyebags were bad but he didn't know they were that bad

You, on the other hand, are experiencing all the physical ailments of a 6'4 human that never remembers to eat and the headache of needing a daily dose of six shots of espresso to function

He's immediately concerned about physical wellbeing and checking both of you over for any signs of injury. Yeah, he doesn't hate magic anymore, but he's still not comfortable with it

Coaches you on how to speak more like him in his voice. His voice is made for DRAMA, MC, you must PROJECT! ENUNCIATE! The people at the back can't hear you!

He's also going to encourage you to wear all of his normal getup. Enjoy wearing multiple layers of leather in a Mediterranean climate, MC, it's all for the *aesthetic*

You, however, have a secret weapon, and that is basic self care

You are going to eat so much nutritious food and drink so much clean water and get so much sleep and sunlight and exercise ...

It's also payback for how much you're sweating right now, because you won't be the one dealing with all the sore muscles later

He gets unbearably flustered when he changes clothes/bathes in your body and won't stop talking about it

Asra

They know exactly what's happened as soon as they wake up and they know it's their fault and they have 0 regrets. none.

Quick to suggest taking a lazy day so you won't have to juggle the shop with this. And then suggests sleeping in immediately after

He's very curious about what it's like to enjoy all kinds of experiences in your body, but he doesn't do anything until he knows you're comfortable with it (including changing)

Gets distracted/sidetracked every time they pass a mirror/window/shiny pot/remotely reflective surface because they like your face and it keeps surprising them to see it reflected back at them

You're about to watch yourself make the weirdest faces into the mirror as they try to document what your face looks like with different expressions

Has the time of his life picking out his outfit (to wear on your body) and watching you pick out yours (to wear on his body)

Pulls out every food item in your kitchen because they want to know if you taste things differently than they do. You're going to wake up with heartburn tomorrow

Might suggest pranking a few friends, but he's generally so averse to conflict that he won't be dead set on the idea

Occasionally taps into your bond, just to ground themself

Nadia

She's going to keep lying still for a moment or two to finish processing what's just happened and decide what she's going to do about it

And then she's going to teasingly tell you that you're welcome to help yourself to her body, and ask if she can help herself to yours

Tells a trusted Palace servant that she is indisposed and that neither of you will be available today (because there's no way she's going to try to swap jobs with you)

You might be tempted to set yourself up in front of a mirror and see if there's any pose or outfit in the world that Nadia can't look elegant in. She'll have a very amusing time watching you

Portia will inevitably hear about her absence and stop by at some point, which will only ramp up the hilarity

Nadia does suggest sneaking out at some point, your body makes for a great disguise and a day on the town sounds fun!

(You still haven't figured out how to tell her that what sets her apart more than her appearance is her bearing. You've never seen your own posture look that good)

Speaking of posture, welcome to life in a body that's excellently cared for! You can stretch in every direction and nothing hurts!

Though this much thick hair is heavy and hot

Muriel

Oh, he knows before he opens his eyes that something's off, because the furs feel unusually heavy over him and he's never shared a bed with anything bigger than he is

Speaking of, he had no idea that his body radiated that much heat. It's like lying next to a furnace (and it's more comforting than he expected. maybe you're onto something with all the snuggling)

He's violently uncomfortable with being in your body, mostly because he's assuming you'd like it back, and he doesn't want to do anything with it that you don't want him to

You, on the other hand, spend a day as the pilot of a body with unusual size and strength. You're going to have to be reeeeally careful not accidentally bump your head/break and tear stuff

What you choose to do with that is entirely up to you (and up to your body's capacity to contain Muriel's embarrassed blush)

Have fun flexing and watching yourself turn beet red

He is going to request that the two of you stay in the woods and out of sight, which certainly makes things easier

He's also going to apologize to you because he knows this was his fault (you'll have to convince him that being in his body is not a miserable experience, which he may have a hard time believing)

Inanna will be wolf-laughing at both of you the whole time

Portia

She woke up first and put two and two together. By the time you open your eyes, your face is staring back at you with this specific expression: >:3

Also, your body is buzzing (and I mean, buzzing) with energy. You feel like you could climb a mountain and still have the capacity to chop down at least 20 trees. Oh, and your hands are tiny

It's going to take a second for her to get used to your body, if only because she keeps stopping at every new movement/sensation to comment on it/experiment with it/tease you about it

As soon as you've had breakfast, she's taking the day off and dragging you into town for some good old-fashioned mischief

Because yeah, she just woke up in one of the most powerful magician's bodies in the world, she fully plans on taking advantage of that. Who wouldn't??

Long story short, your day is going to consist of running after her while she comments on your "low energy levels" (they're not low, they're human) and wreaks havoc with your magical capacity

The fountain in the town square spouts glowing orange water for a week after she passes through. Even she isn't sure how she did it, so you just have to wait it out and hope it won't poison anyone

Mazelinka saw you two at one point and cried laughing

Lucio

It takes him a while to figure out what's happened

Don't misread this as him assuming that things are normal. He knows things are not normal, because he's getting human sensations from his left arm

But his first assumption is that this is because his arm magically grew back in the night, and his second assumption when he sees his own body next to him is that he's been cloned

You wake up because he's frantically calling your name, asking why his voice sounds so weird and if you had to clone him as part of getting his human arm back and where you've disappeared to

Shrieks and falls backwards off the bed when his clone's eyes open and you tell him what's happened from his own body

You, on the other hand, are going to spend all day figuring out how to function with a metal arm. It's nowhere near as easy as he makes it look, plus it makes that whole side of your body cold

Lucio insists on doing your eyeliner (on his face) because yes, he loves you, and yes, he trusts you, but that's his signature look and he needs it to be perfect

And then you're going to accidentally ruin his face anyways when you go to scratch an itch, forgetting about the claws on his hand

It's nothing compared to his attempts to use your magic

[only-luce-the-goose]

Sick days

A/N: This is the last part of a previous request, I'm really happy that you have enjoyed the last two and I hope you enjoy this one. I've based off myself a little bit, just job wise really 🤷‍♀️

Arthur Leclerc x reader

Synopsis: "Maybee some of the care for her when she's sick 🥹🥹"

Warnings: sick reader, soft Arthur

You loved your job, getting to watch kids before and after school when their parents would drop them off early or pick them up late. You loved working with the different age groups, doing activities, and running around with them. It wasn't until you got sick that you realised that working with kids might not be completely good. You wake up on a Saturday morning, your sinuses are blocked up, you've got a pounding headache, and your joints ache.

You mentally curse yourself for getting sick, you knew it was from work since you haven't been anywhere else lately. What made it even worse? Arthur has a week off. You're supposed to pick him up from the airport tonight. Luckily you decided to gradually clean your shared apartment throughout the week, so everything has already been done. You gradually get up, heading to the kitchen to get breakfast. You put down 2 pieces of toast, spreading butter and vegemite on them when come up (I am an AUSTRALIAN. Vegemite toast is like a medical remedy for sick days, do not judge me 🫶).

After finishing breakfast, you move on with your day. You head to your home gym, hoping to get a little cardio done. You managed to make it through an hour on the treadmill before your sinuses became too much. You quickly shut it off before running to grab a tissue and pump yourself with more anti-cold tablets. You made it to the shower, washing off the sweat.

You spent the rest of the day in front of the tv, trying to relax and clear your cold up as much as you could. Arthur's plane was arriving at 9pm, so you knew you had to leave at 8pm. It was 7pm when you realised you must shower and get ready to pick your boyfriend up.

After parking at the airport, you made your way in to find Arthur's gate. You had about 20 minutes to go until he walked through the doors. Your nose was still stuffy and you had a bit of a cough, better than this morning but still not great. You sat on a bench, watching as his plane rolled up and connected to the ramp. He was the first person out of the door, frantically looking around until he spotted you.

He broke into a grin and picked up speed, you stood up and broke into a run. Bodies collided in a bone-crushing hug in the middle of the airport, your arms around his neck as he gripped your waist. He pulled his head back, and you let go and grabbed his luggage, avoiding his kiss so you wouldn't get him sick. You linked your hand with him, pulling his luggage behind you. He didn't move, letting go of your hand and pouting as you turned around.

"Baby, what are you doing?" slightly amused by his reaction, you moved closer to him. He mumbled under his breath, "What did you say?" you asked him. "You didn't kiss me" he said through his pout. You giggle a little when you answer, "Arty, I've got a cold, I don't want to get you sick on your time off". He gave you a massive eye roll when he said "Seriously, love? You know I don't give a shit of your sick or not, I'll gladly get sick if it means I still get to kiss you"

You laugh as you reach up to cup his cheek, "I think you might be going soft, baby" you joke. "I don't care" is the only thing you hear as he brings his hand to the back of your head and connects your lips in a mind-blowing, firework show of a kiss. You both make your ways back to the car and head home for the night. Lo and behold, you wake up the next morning with no cold symptoms. However, your boyfriend is shivering and sniffling. "I told you, baby" you says as you big spoon him, "Shut up", he responds, "I still love you, even if you got me sick" he chuckles. "I love you too, Arty"

[sydsaint]

*frantically drops this on the TL and runs away* The Pepsi man is fucking haunting me.

Summary: The reader has a jaded past with Punk and never thought she'd have to see him again. Until Survivor Series.

"Thanks for the assist, Y/N. Good looking out." Randy pats your arm gently with a friendly smile. 

"When it comes to Rhea? No problem at all, Randy." You nod as the rest of your Wargames team files out of the cage. 

You mingle with the team while laughing at the misfortune of Judgment Day still lingering in the cage. Then it happens. 

Cult of Personality blasts through the arena speakers and you choke on your laugh. Your eyes snap to the top of the ramp and you watch in disbelief as a figure walks through the curtain as the crowd screams at the top of their lungs. 

CM Punk. 

The arena becomes almost deafening as Punk runs around and enjoys his comeback with the crowd all cheering his name as loud as they can.

"You alright, N/N?" Jey sets a hand on your shoulder making you finally look away from the top of the ramp. 

"Fine. I'm fine." You nod. "Come on, let's head backstage. I'm sure that Hunter will want us for the media scrum in a bit." 

The group nods and everyone starts moving up the ramp toward the curtain. You wedge yourself between Sami and Jey and try to look as inconspicuous as possible. The group all pass Punk as he makes his way down the ramp and you do your absolute best to avoid his gaze. Because you know that if you do catch his eye then it's all over for you. 

Luck isn't on your side tonight, because as soon as you happen to glance to the side to smile at a fan holding a sign for you, Punk walks by. Your gaze meets a pair of enticing blue eyes and you curse under your breath. 'fuck' You whisper. 

"You sure that you're okay, Y/N?" Jey checks on you again once everyone is backstage. 

"I'm alright, Jey." You insist with another nod. "I'm just surprised is all. Just like everyone else is." You assure him. 

Jey nods and drops the subject for the moment. Everyone mingles around some more while waiting to see if anyone is needed for the media scrum. Jey and Cody get called to answer a few questions, and Seth wanders off to find Becky. This leaves you with Sami and Randy. 

"Hey, I just remembered something." Randy turns to you while you're talking to Sami. "Didn't you and Punk used to date before he left the company the first time?" He asks you. 

"We weren't dating!" You grind your teeth. 

Randy's eyebrows widen a bit at your outburst and he nods. "Right, sorry." He apologizes. "You knew him though, right? You were just starting out as a trainee if I remember right." 

"Yeah, I just got hired." You nod. "And now I'm a 5-time champion with absolutely no interest in CM Punk." You insist. though it's more to yourself than Randy and Sami. 

"No interest at all huh?" A familiar voice sounds behind you and you can already feel a headache coming on. "Well, I don't know about that, Y/N. Saying  you have zero interest in me is a little harsh, don't you think?" Punk comes sauntering through the curtain, still obviously high off the hype from his return. 

You lock eyes with Punk again but feel more confident in meeting his gaze this time. "Read my lips, hypocrite. Not interested." You answer him firmly. 

"Hypocrite?" Punk laughs and your stomach does a flip. "Sounds to me like you're overcompensating for something, sweetheart." He winks at you. 

"Oh you'd know all about overcompensating, wouldn't you?" You fire right back at him. 

Punk lets out another laugh and you know that you're starting to lose the battle. "Come on, sweetheart. We both know that just ain't true." He flashes a smug smile at you. 

"Alright!" Sami breaks up the dick-measuring contest with an awkward laugh. "Y/N, Randy and I are gonna head back to the locker room." He informs you. "You want to come with?" He offers you an easy way out of this whole situation. 

"Awe, leaving so soon, Y/N?" Punk flashes a fake frown. "But we were just getting to the fun part." 

Your mouth twitches and you turn to Sami. "I'll be there in a minute." You inform him. "I've got one final demon from my past that needs to be taken care of." You turn back to Punk with a scowl. 

"Oh, so I'm a demon now?" Punk teases you. 

"No." Yo, turn back to Punk. "You're a manipulator and a hypocrite." 

Another chuckle falls from Punk's lips as Randy and Sami walk off. "From what I remember, you didn't really mind being manipulated, sweetheart." He reminds you. 

"That was 10 years ago." You remind him right back. "I'm not some starstruck little girl fawning over the great CM Punk anymore. When you compare careers? You should be the one on your knees begging for my attention." You add. 

"You want me on my knees, sweetheart? All you have to do is ask." Punk taunts you. 

Your face heats up a smidge and you bite the inside of your cheek. Punk smiles as you wrack your brain for a comeback to his lewd remark. 

"Still speechless when it comes to me, huh, Y/N." Punk doesn't let up on his teasing. 

"Big talk coming from the main fired from two major companies for acting like an entitled brat." You fire back at him. 

"Oooo, ouch." Punk laughs your insult off. "And what have you been up to while I've been gone, Y/N?" He asks you. 

An opportunity presents itself and you don't hold back. "Main eventing Wrestlemania in front of hundreds of thousands of people." You remind him. "While you were doing what? Sitting on your couch with your dingy ass dog watching me be better than you? Or what? Getting into fights with kids that used to worship you like a hero?" You make a jab at his short-lived AEW career. 

Punk bows his head with a smile, acknowledging the burn. "Touche." He puts his hands up in defeat. "I'm staying at the same hotel as you tonight. Room 413." He steps towards you. "You talk a lot of game sugar, let's see if you can still back it up." He leans in and whispers in your ear before walking off with a self-satisfied smile. 

You remain in place as Punk walks off. "Fuck me." You groan when you think he's out of earshot finally. 

"Oh, I plan to, sweetheart!" Punk answers from across the room followed by a sinister laugh. 

[alltheirdamn]

A Bounty for Reward (Mando x f!reader)

CHAPTER 4

Summary: It was bound to happen eventually, right? Warnings: SMUT (finally, finally, finally!!), masturbation (f & m), unprotected PIV sex, creampie, mentions of blood & violence, language, umm.... missing anything else?? Word count: 6.5k A/N: I told y'all it was coming 👀

You woke up with a raging headache. Which fucking sucked. But your back had finally stopped aching, and you thanked the Maker that Mando let you use his bed. Last night had been weird between the two of you; something unspoken and tense. You clenched your thighs while you remembered how hard he was when he spoke to you. Maybe your grogginess had played tricks on your brain, but you could still picture the outline of his cock straining against his pants. Being stuck on this ship with him was slowly starting to wither away your self-restraint. For most of your life, you retracted away from any man and their advances; you hated how they stared and spoke to you. Kesi had weaponized your body until you became hollow inside. Men disgusted you. They had only wanted one thing, and you were forced to give it away. But something about Mando made you rethink how a man could act and make you feel. And it was fucking confusing. 

The sound of the cockpit door opening only amplified the throbbing inside your head. You wanted silence— for the first time in forever. As badly as you craved his presence, you craved the solitude even more. Which made no fucking sense since you had spent the majority of the last several days alone. 

“Sleep okay?” Mando’s modulated voice broke the silence. 

“Hmph.” You rolled over, pulling the blanket over your head. The throbbing wouldn’t stop, and it was driving you crazy. 

“Wanna get off the ship?” He asked. 

Of course, you did. You wanted nothing more than to feel the sun on your skin again, to breathe in air that wasn’t recirculating around you. Peaking out from under the blanket, you saw Mando staring at you; helmet tilted to the side. Was he amused with you? 

“Yeah,” you sighed, wrapping the blanket around you as you sat up. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Good. Get dressed.”

Something about the dominance in his voice had you clenching your thighs together again. He watched you unwaveringly as you stood and grabbed your pants from the floor next to the bed. Your head still throbbed, but now so did your cunt. He was screwing with your mind. 

Mando stalked away to open the ramp as you finished putting on your shoes, and you followed him mindlessly. 

“Put this on,” he demanded, handing you your hooded jacket, long since abandoned after the first night. 

You slipped it on, pulling the hood over your head. The idea of leaving the ship had you buzzing with excitement. You knew you were on Nevarro, and maybe you could find an escape–although a small part of you was reluctant to leave. There was a cocoon of safety in Mando’s grasp, but you wouldn’t give up on the hope of freedom just yet.

The sun glared down on you through parted clouds as you trailed behind Mando’s armored body. He had instructed a group of men to carry out the bounties from the carbonite chamber, and now you followed him into the heart of the city, where you were overly aware of the commotion as Mando walked through the crowds. Some eyes lingered on you, and the paranoia began to set in. Was anyone searching for you? You still didn’t know where Kesi had gone, and the fact he was still alive set your nerves alight. You quickened your pace to match Mando’s, afraid of falling behind and into the blur of bodies. 

“Where are we going?” You asked. 

Mando focused on the busy streets as he nodded toward a cantina tucked away into one of the alleyways. 

“Guild business?” You guessed. 

“Something like that,” he huffed.

You trailed him inside, drowning out the mindless taunting of men outside the entrance. You had grown accustomed to their snide remarks and sexualized jokes; it didn’t phase you. But you noticed how Mando sized each of them up, and their words and laughter died out as you walked past. 

The cantina was loud and crowded with what you assumed were other guild members. You were acutely aware of their weapons strapped to their belts. Unease coursed through you as you remembered you were still wanted, and it only made you want to stick closer to Mando. He led the way towards an empty booth near the back of the cantina, gesturing for you to sit. You slid into it, tugging your hood further over your forehead and eyes. 

“Stay here.”

You swallowed, nodding as he turned from the booth and walked away. He joined a man a few stalls over, sliding into a spot with a direct view of yours. It was unclear whether Mando was staring at you or the man before him, the direction of his helmet giving away nothing. 

Minutes passed by without issue, and you grew fidgety in the booth. Your eyes darted around the cantina, wondering how easy it could be to slip out and run. You had done it once before with Mando, but you hadn’t been successful. But he hadn’t been preoccupied last time. He wouldn’t abandon his meeting just to catch you, right? It was laughable even to think he’d let you slip away. Sighing, you shrunk back into the leather padding, slowly returning your gaze to him. His helmet was cocked sideways, facing directly at you. Maker, your heart plummeted into your stomach. He could paralyze you from that stare alone.

So, you played along. 

You gave him a slight grin, leaning your chin into your hand as you eased forward. You watched him, transfixed, and noted how his body straightened. Whoever he was talking to was blissfully unaware of your effect on him. He gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head, and you chuckled. This was fun. Like last night, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and observed how tense his body became. He had been so awkward last night with you, and you had considered it may have just been who he was, but maybe it was more than that. Maybe you turned him on, and warmth bloomed in your stomach at the idea of it. Having that sort of power over a man–let alone a Mandalorian—was thrilling. 

The teasing was entertaining until it wasn’t. Shortly after garnering another shake of his head, a drunken patron fell into the booth, his drink sloshing onto the tabletop. You retracted back, hugging your arms to your chest. The man gave you a toothy grin, his words slurring as he introduced himself. 

You lied about your name, offering a polite smile. He took another gulp of his drink, slamming it down all too charismatically. 

“Y’sure are beautiful,” he slurred. “Would like to take you home.”

“You wish,” you rolled your eyes. 

The stench of his breath wafted toward you as you squirmed in the booth. His drunken smile from before was replaced with an apparent frown, clearly displeased with your remark. Reaching over the table, he pawed at your body, trying to find anything to grab. You lurched forward, sending a resounding slap across his face. 

“Don’t fucking put your hands on me,” you growled. Fuck, you wish you had your vibroblade again. 

A few heads turned at the sound, their voices hushed as they regarded the scene between you and the drunken man. He was pissed off now, reaching out for you again, this time more successful with a quick grab of your wrist. You reached for his drink, shattering it against the table. Gripping a piece of the broken glass, you held it at eye-level toward him, a snarl forming on your lips. He held up his hands in protest, eyes glazed over in fear. 

“Do it!” You shouted. “I fucking dare you!”

The crowd around you grew silent, but you could only focus on the glass tightening in your grip. It pierced your skin until you felt the slice of it dig into your palm. The blood dripping from your hand unphased you as your heart thrummed with adrenaline. Let him fucking come near you. Let him try to touch you again. A glint of silver danced in your peripheral, and Mando approached the booth with a hand on his blaster. 

“Out,” he demanded, grabbing the man by the collar. He tossed him to the ground with little effort, his helmet glancing between him and you. You lowered the shard of glass to the table, wiping your palm against your pants. Mando’s chest rose as he inhaled, and he silently extended a hand towards you. Your impulse was to flinch, but you trusted him not to hurt you, so you took it willingly. His gloved fingers wrapped around yours, and you trailed him out of the cantina without another word. 

Pulling you into the alleyway, Mando pushed you against the wall and surveyed your body. Your breath hitched as he grabbed for your injured hand, turning it over to inspect the cut. It was still bleeding, but you had long since forgotten the pain. Everything had been a blur. Tugging it from his hold, you cradled your hand into your chest and stared at the black visor. 

“I’m fine,” you insisted. “Just a cut.”

“He touched you.” It wasn’t a question. 

You only nodded, scanning the alley for any stragglers from the bar. You hadn’t meant to get so angry or violent, but it seemed to be an ongoing thing with these unwanted advances. Kesi had ruined you in the worst way possible. Staring up at the passing clouds, you forced your tears back and focused on breathing. Mando would never take you back out of the ship now that you had gone and made a fool of yourself. 

“Stay here,” he ordered.

**

Mando had been acutely aware of her presence inside the cantina. She had been taunting him with small smiles the entire time as he tried to focus on the conversation with Karga. Had last night sparked something between them? It was clear she was trying to push his buttons, see how far she could take the teasing until he snapped. At this rate, it wouldn’t be fucking long. Under the protection of his helmet, he found his eyes wandering towards her each time she shifted in the booth. 

And then someone slipped into it with her. He stiffened, watching their interaction unfold in front of him. Karga was blissfully unaware of the spectacle as he rambled about taking more pucks, yet Mando had long forgotten what they were discussing. His hand itched towards his blaster as the man leaned forward into her, only to be shocked to see her send a sharp slap across his face. Rage filled his veins when the man did it a second time. But then the sound of glass shattering rattled around the loud cantina, silencing everyone. Her voice raised above everyone as she dared him to touch her again. Mando took note of the glass in her hand and quickly vacated the booth to step in. 

A multitude of thoughts swarmed his mind as he hauled her out of the cantina into the alley. First, someone had put their hands on her. Second, she was a force to be reckoned with when angry. And third, she was bleeding. Mando didn’t know which made him more upset. But the fear in her eyes was enough to make him see red. 

And he had been itching to kill someone since he returned for her on Tatooine. 

Mando pulled the blaster from his hip as he entered the cantina again. The tension in the air was palpable as he stalked towards the man still cowering on the floor. He aimed the blaster at his chest, unphased at the sheer terror in the man's eyes. 

“Mando!” Karga yelled, stepping over the man and into the direct line of his outstretched arm. 

He lowered the blaster, glancing between Karga and the man. His finger twitched against the trigger, just waiting for the moment to shoot. 

“Now, now,” Karga bristled. “No need for violence here! Right?” 

Mando’s jaw clenched, and he stepped towards Karga. He held up his hands in defeat, giving Mando one of his signature grins. 

“Just let it go, Mando,” he urged. 

But Mando couldn’t let it go, no matter how badly he wanted to. He had never been a man to act so impulsively, but the sight of her shaking and bleeding was enough to fuel the rage inside his heart. Every fiber of his being screamed to protect her. 

“Move,” he gritted out. 

“Walk away,” Karga demanded. 

But Mando didn’t falter, nor did his grip on the blaster. He held it at waist level, flicking it to the side until Karga got the hint. He didn’t give a second thought to it as he put a hole in the man’s chest. The rage inside him didn’t let up, but he forced his weapon back into its holster and exhaled for the first time in minutes. 

“I’ll be back in a week with more bounties,” he nodded at Karga. 

Karga had nothing to respond, his focus on the dead man lying on the cantina floor. 

Mando returned to the alley, finding her still standing paralyzed against the wall. Her eyes were rimmed red from crying, and his rage was replaced with some form of guilt that slithered its way into his heart. He should have known taking her here would be dangerous. But she had been trapped within the confines of his ship for nearly a week, and he wanted to grant her some freedom—even if it wasn’t exactly what she wanted. 

“Let’s go,” he grumbled, extending his hand. 

She hesitated. But then she slipped her delicate hand into his, and he led her out of the city and back to the Crest. Mando still buzzed with the lingering anger from the cantina, but he shoved down those emotions and forced himself to focus on her. She was quiet as he guided her to sit on one of the crates, and he searched his med pack for some bacta. He found what he needed, including something to bandage her hand, and crouched in front of her, reaching for her hand. Reluctantly, she let him take it, unfurling the tight fist she had made. The cut wasn’t deep, but enough to scar— a scar that could have been avoided had he not been so selfish in taking her with him. He wanted to give her a moment in the sun, a moment away from this fucking ship. This space between them was growing smaller, and he needed to find any way to create some distance. But they were just spiraling closer together. 

“It’ll sting,” he muttered. 

She nodded, sniffling back more tears. He sprayed the wound and felt her body twitch from the pain. He unraveled the bandage and started wrapping it around her hand. It felt so small in his, so soft, and his fingers worked slowly as he tied it off. Rubbing slow circles over her palm, Mando lifted his head to look at her, only to find she was already focusing on him. Those big doe eyes stared straight through his visor and into his soul—picking him apart piece by piece. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

He mindlessly drew those circles over the bandage until her hand closed around his. With a soft squeeze of her fingers, she drew his hand to her lips and gently kissed his knuckles. The breath stalled inside him, watching as her lips grazed over his gloves. Despite all he had done, all he was, she was giving away small pieces of herself to him. And he selfishly wanted more. But he was undeserving of it, and everything he was raised to become shouted for him to stop. 

“I killed him.”

Her mouth stopped moving against his knuckles. He pulled away and stood over her, her eyes trailing up his body. There wasn’t an ounce of remorse or fear in her eyes when he said those words—instead, a smirk played on her lips.

“Good. Fucker deserved it. Could’ve done it myself if you let me.”

Mando laughed, a genuine one he hadn’t heard in a while. She continued to surprise him. 

“You ever kill someone?” He asked, piecing back together his medpac to stow away.

He looked over his shoulder to see her shaking her head. Something about it relieved him, knowing she didn’t have death on her hands, but she was willing to do it. Mando wondered if her being around him long enough would change that, would make him the dangerous one. 

“I’ve wanted to,” she sighed, standing from the crate and moving towards him. “So many times.”

They were only feet apart now, and Mando felt the thrum of his heart in his chest growing faster. Her hair was disheveled from the hood on her jacket, and without thinking, he reached out to tuck a strand behind her ear. She didn’t flinch from him for the second time today. He felt triumphant knowing he had won her trust, even in the smallest of things.

“I hope you never have to,” he spoke. 

Her eyes were still glossy with earlier tears, but a firmness in her look told him enough. Someone had used her before—in what way, Mando could only guess. He had started piecing together the things she had offered him, and nothing amounted to being a criminal. She didn’t sell spice, she didn’t use it, she hadn’t killed anyone… She wasn’t worth a bounty. Not that she wasn’t worth it, just that she didn’t deserve it. 

“How many have you killed?” She whispered, breaking through his spiraling thoughts. 

“Enough.”

“What does it feel like?”

Mando sighed, letting his hand fall away from her hair. “For a Mandalorian, survival is everything. If death forces us to defend and survive, then it is the only answer.”

“It’s part of your Creed, right?” She asked.

Sharing something so intimate and sacred with someone other than a Mandalorian felt foreign to him. 

“This is the Way,” he nodded.

“The Way,” she echoed.

Then she let out a small laugh, the corners of her lips creasing into her cheeks. Mando cocked his head to the side, trying to understand what about this conversation was so comical.

“I think that’s the most you’ve said to me,” she grinned.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself, too. She was starting to fester her way under his skin, force him out of his comfort zone, and slowly enjoy the presence of another for the first time in his life. He sort of enjoyed it. 

“Bacta might wear you out a bit,” he cleared his throat, quickly changing the subject. “Bed’s all yours.”

She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. Mando made quite the effort not to stare as her forearms pushed up her breasts. 

“Where will you sleep?” 

“Cockpit,” he replied. “Don’t sleep much, honestly.”

“Take the bed,” she insisted. “I’ll be fine on the floor.”

It was tempting—sleeping near her. But Mando didn’t trust himself; didn’t trust he wouldn’t find his way into the bed with her when she clearly didn’t want that. He wouldn’t abuse the trust he had built with her, no matter how much he ached to be between her thighs. Fuck, he needed to let off some steam.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Gonna use the refresher and be on my way.”

She nodded slowly, clearly not convinced, but relented. Retiring to the bed, she gingerly crawled in and wrapped herself in the blanket. Mando watched as she tucked her injured hand close to her chest and noticed her eyes still locked on him. If she looked at him any longer, Mando would lose his cool.

Ducking into the refresher, Mando let the water rain down on him and flood his mind. He was achingly hard, and it wasn’t long before his hand wound around his cock, stroking slowly. He tried hard not to picture her, her big eyes, or how she’d bite her lips. He tried not to think of her legs wrapped in his sheets or the swell of her breasts under her shirt. But the harder he squeezed his cock, the stronger those thoughts became. He imagined how tight she’d feel around his cock, and the noises she’d make. He stroked himself faster, feeling his muscles tense on the precipice of release, and with one long stroke, he was grunting into the tile walls and spilling himself onto the floor.

**

You tried to erase the sound of his orgasm from your mind; you really did. But Mando had long since retired to the cockpit, and you found your uninjured hand snaking down past the waistband of your pants and sliding through your wet folds. You hadn’t imagined those noises—you knew that. You had spent years listening to the disgusting sound of men orgasming, but this was different. His voice was rough and unmodulated, and fuck if it didn’t make your core ache with need. It had been so long since you had touched yourself like this, and part of you knew how embarrassing it was. You were trapped on the ship with your bounty hunter, rubbing circles around your clit imagining how his tongue would feel instead.

Fuck.

Your body wound itself tight as you teased your way closer, basking in that momentary bliss before your climax crescendoed, hoping, for your sake, your noises would be quieter than his. Burying your head into the blankets, you exhaled a moan and felt your body spasm around your fingers. Maker, it was the best orgasm you had in a while. And all you could think about was him. 

Your body was exhausted from the short time on Nevarro, but the bacta was slowly wearing off, making your hand throb in pain. You didn’t regret what you did. And you were telling the truth when you said you wished you had killed him. Maybe that would make you a murderer like Mando, but you wanted to reclaim yourself piece by piece, even if that meant some people had to die. 

Restless in the small bed, you found yourself climbing the ladder to the cockpit and knocking softly on the metal door. A moment passed before it slid open, and Mando looked over his shoulder at you silently. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” you explained. “Can I join you?”

He grunted in response, tilting his helmet towards the empty seat beside him. You squeezed yourself through the small space, taking note of the control panels and functions. You weren’t thinking about stealing his ship, but knowing how it operated was interesting. Plus, the mechanic in you was just eager to see such an old ship and its hardware. The cargo hold had been your sanctuary the last several days, and having a new scenery was a nice change. Seeing the galaxy expand around you in a vastness you couldn’t fathom was even nicer. 

“I’ve never really seen the galaxy like this before,” you commented, leaning forward to watch the stars pass. 

“Really?” Mando asked, his visor focused on the space in front of you. 

You shook your head, a tinge of sadness crawling up your chest. “No. Any time I’ve traveled to different planets, I’ve always been… put away, I guess?” You cringed at even the thought of it.

Kesi made sure to hold you in the shittiest part of a ship when he took you to and from spice trades. You were confined to solitude before meeting his clients and then deposed just as fast. The last few years of your life were spent between ships, inns, and shady cantinas. That’s why you craved your life back on Coruscant—you could go anywhere and do anything. 

In your peripheral, you saw his head turn to you. Your emotions were bubbling to the surface, and you continued to stare out the windshield at the stars instead of meeting his gaze. You didn’t fully trust yourself not to cry. You didn’t cry often; you wouldn’t let yourself succumb to those emotions, but something about the admission left a lingering feeling deep within you. 

“It’s—,” you laughed, trying to shake back the tears. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

“Kesi hurt you.” 

Mando said it plainly like it was a fact and not a question. There was no use holding back the tears, but you turned away to wipe them, hoping you could still look strong. You were learning how to take back the power that Kesi stole from you—including your own emotions.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you said, tucking your legs into the seat.

Mando gave you a stiff nod and leaned back in his chair. Silence surrounded you, wrapping you both in this strange comfort that you didn’t necessarily hate. You enjoyed the quiet, even with him beside you. 

“Where are we going?” You eventually asked.

“Adelphi. Got a bounty there.”

“Can I join you?”

“No,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You weren’t surprised he said no. Bounty hunting was his lifestyle, not yours, and you had to continuously remind yourself you weren’t anything but a bounty to him. But the lines were blurring between being a bounty and being… a friend? Maybe calling him a ‘friend’ was a bit extreme and premature, but you were enjoying the company as much as you could tolerate it. 

You still wished to regain your freedom, but for now, you’d enjoy being in his presence. 

The nav panel started blaring for the descent, stirring you awake in the chair. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, but the planet before you was bright and proved to be a new day. Mando flew the Crest through the atmosphere and towards a deserted beach. The landing was smooth, and before the wheels could finish sinking into the sand, Mando was out of the chair and moving through the cockpit. You followed him into the ship's hull, watching as he collected his sniper from the armory wall and slid it over his shoulder. He grabbed one more thing before shutting it and turning to you. Extending his hand, he revealed a wrist comlink and motioned for you to give him your arm.

“It’s synced up to mine,” he explained, lifting his wrist. “I’ll notify you when I get close to the ship so you can prepare the chamber.”

He wasn’t taking you on the hunt…but letting you help, which meant a lot. 

You let him slide the comlink onto your wrist, and you turned it over to inspect the technology. You’d never used one before, but you had some basic knowledge to get you by. When he called, you would answer; simple as that.

“Won’t be more than a few hours,” he assured you.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Um, be safe.”

Mando tilted his head to the side, and you imagined he was smiling at you. Maybe he was, or maybe he was just as stoic as his voice and body language. Either way, you meant what you said because without him… well, you didn’t really know. You could take the ship. You could fly back to Coruscant. But would you be safe? 

“Be good,” he ordered, his voice strained. 

His words sent a shiver down your spine, as it did every time he was more authoritative with you, and you wondered how many times you could get off before he came back. Idiot. Forcing yourself out of your mind and into the present, you watched him walk out onto the sandy beach and close you back into the confines of the ship. 

Just a few hours, you told yourself. 

Hours later, Mando com’d you to open the ramp. You had busied yourself with the carbonite chamber again, trying to find solutions for the valve issue. You sat down your tools and glanced at him as he made his way into the hull, his beskar dripping in the afternoon sunlight. He had his bounty in tow, this one alive and heavily bruised. His skin was flushed red, even more so with the trail of blood that leaked down his chin. The bounty’s eyes never left yours, his teeth barring a smile scary enough to make your skin crawl.

“Keep moving,” Mando grunted, shoving the bounty toward the carbonite chamber. His helmet glanced at you, confused by the tools at your feet. You shook your head in response, nonverbally giving him the ‘okay’ to use it.

“I didn’t know you kept pets around, Mando,” the bounty’s voice was hoarse, a cough spurting more blood onto his clothes. 

Mando was quick to push the bounty into the chamber, his hand punching the buttons to capture and freeze the tattered body that stood in front of you. There was a momentary pause in the freezing process, but then it started up again to continue. Mando’s helmet looked down at the tools again, slowly raking over your body to meet your eyes.

“What’s this?” he asked, an edge to his tone still noticeable.

“I wanted to see what else I could do to help with the freezing component,” you explained, shifting your weight under his glare. “I thought I would fix it before you returned. It stalled a moment right now, but it just needs a simple system restart to help the carbonite process run smoother.”

“Hmm,” was all he responded.

There wasn’t much space between you and Mando, the smell of smoke intoxicating the air around you. His chest rose and fell with heaviness as if he was recovering from running miles— which he probably had. There was something so infatuating about his demeanor after a hunt; the combative urges inside him still burning under his armor. The emoting rage still fizzled inside his muscles as his hands tensed at his sides. His stare had you paralyzed, your body pressed against the wall of the cargo hold. Something inside you flickered, your core growing warmer the longer he stared. There were so many unspoken words, so many lingering needs. The silence stretched longer, and you began to worry something was wrong. He wasn’t saying anything; he was just standing there.

“Mando,” your voice was meek, more than you expected. All your confidence was forlorn; wanton need taking control of your body.

He stepped closer, hands placed at either side of your head until he had you boxed in, his thigh nudging your legs to spread apart. Instinctively, you did, grinding your hips upward against his knee as he positioned his body in between your legs. You should’ve been embarrassed, but you couldn’t help yourself from giving in to the urges that lingered inside you. His helmet angled down to look at you, and you felt the amusement of his stare even through the visor. You would never see his face, but the fierce need to know the look in his hungry eyes consumed your thoughts. Maker, to see the way his eyes danced with rage and desire was enough arousal in itself.

“Tell me to stop,” he choked out. “You shouldn’t want—.”

“I want this,” you whispered. 

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his chest press against yours. The smell of combat still lingered on his clothes, and you knew he had hurt someone just hours before returning. He should scare you; you should be terrified of Mando in all aspects. But you were undoubtedly infatuated with him, constantly under some spell that continued to draw you in. He intrigued, puzzled, and challenged you to defy all hatred you once had for any man. The closer you got to the fire, the further your emotions were stripped away, burning in the chaos he created around you. 

Taking control, you brought his hand down to your hips, guiding it to your zipper, and moved it slowly under the elastic waistband of your underwear. The leather of his glove was warm to the touch, catching softly on the slick skin of your cunt. His fingers took control, dipping between the wet folds and slowly teasing your entrance. Instinctively, your hips bucked forward, the need for his fingers inside you growing stronger. He knew it, too, as his fingers circled your clit slowly— agonizingly. The ache in your core grew stronger, your heartbeat drumming loudly inside your ears.

“Please,” you begged, your head falling against the wall. 

Mando’s free hand moved to pull your face forward, his hand encapsulating your jaw with a firm grip. His thumb traced over your lips, teasing your mouth open and gathering the saliva that pooled on your tongue.

“Please, what?” His voice darkened, the monster inside him lurking around the corner. All he needed was a nudge; then, you could have what you wanted.

“Fuck me.”

As if a switch flipped inside of him, Mando’s hands moved to yank away your pants, tearing the fabric of your underwear in the sequence of events. It didn’t register in your head how quickly he was able to shove you up the wall and collect your legs around his waist. Your thighs squeezed against his hips, flesh meeting the cool touch of his armor. It rippled goosebumps up your body, the temperature spiking higher in your core. A low growl left his throat as he undid his zipper, angling the length of his cock against the soaking entrance of your cunt. Everything inside you clenched around him, a stinging pain lasting only a second as your body stretched to fit his thick cock. Maker, it hurt, but he felt so fucking good. 

The cargo hold around you grew louder with the mixture of your whines, his grunts, and the disgusting sound of your cunt around his cock. He wasn’t just fucking you; he was wrecking you with each thrust that pounded into you harder every time. Mando’s strength leveraged his control as he gripped your hips high enough to angle himself right at the apex of your cunt. Everything around you blurred into a haze of euphoria and rapture as he brought you to the brink of an orgasm. He could sense it, too, the thrusts coming into a steady rhythm as it hit your core with feverish force. 

“Fuck, Mando,” you gasped.

The shudder that erupted from you paralyzed his movements, your cunt clenching with each throb that rippled through your body. Your nails dug into the fabric of his suit as you muffled a scream into the cowl around his neck.

“No,” he bit out, yanking you back with a fistful of hair. “I want to hear you.”

Mando pulled you from the wall, tossing you down against a wooden crate, toppling a few loose items in the mix. Burying himself to the base of his cock, Mando placed your legs over one shoulder, folding over you as he drilled into you with a force so blindingly hard you couldn’t hold back the screams that escaped you. He was ripping into you, the brute force of his thick cock bringing you to the edge of another orgasm. A gloved hand carded through your hair, gripping the tendrils under the nape of your neck until you had no choice but to stare into the visor of his helmet while you came wholly undone. 

Another orgasm tore through you, tears pouring down your cheeks as you gave way to the release that shook your thighs. Mando let out a satisfied moan, his hips rocking into you slowly, his body tensing up as he spilled himself inside you. He filled you perfectly as if every part of him had been made for you and you alone. 

Mando remained there for a moment, a firm hand rubbing your calves to soothe the tension in your legs. Your head fell back against the crate's edge, your eyes blacking out to the space around you. A thin layer of sweat pooled on your chest, small trails falling down your shoulders and neck. Everything smelled of smoke and sex, and your core clenched again with lingering aftershocks of his thrusts. Mando stifled a grunt, feeling your body respond against his cock, and you felt it growing harder again inside you. 

“Maker,” he exhaled, fingers trailing up your legs as they kneaded the plush skin of your thighs. He dug into your hip bones with bruising force, a small yelp leaving your throat.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispered, bowing his head over your body. 

You moved a leg shakily over his head, situating it on his other shoulder. You had him framed between your legs, staring at the perfect outline of a terrifying man. He could kill you— hell, he even had every reason to do it if he wanted. But instead, he was infatuated with you, the power your body held being a stronger vice than the power to kill you. That power thrummed in your veins, and you desperately latched on to it, afraid you’d lose it again like before. 

Reaching a hand down, Mando made small agonizing circles around your clit. Thrusting himself into you, this time working slower and deeper, his movements were focused on making you cum again. His cock slipped in and out messily, the mixture of his cum and yours being the perfect lubricant to fuck you with.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he grunted, his thumb pressing down on the bundle of nerves that throbbed harder with every stroke. 

“I’m gonna cum again,” you cried, biting your lip to stifle another scream. 

His movements deepened, his hips grinding against your ass as he took you to the base of his cock and kept you there. His weight trapped you, the pressure on your clit sending your mind reeling as you focused on the surge of another release pounding in your abdomen. 

“C’mon,” he crooned, his thumb rubbing harder, “You’re right there, cum for me.”

His voice shot you into another wave of release, your mouth crying out for him. Your legs clenched around his neck, drawing him deeper inside you as the throbbing in your ears grew louder. You could hardly hear him as he punched out your name, cumming again inside you. 

Slumping over your body, the heaviness of his helmet rested on your shoulder as both your chests rose and fell with heavy breaths. His fingers tangled in your hair, smoothing strands from your sticky forehead. You were disgustingly sweaty, the tattered shirt sticking to your skin along with the dirt that rubbed off from his armor. 

“You’re fucking heavy,” you chuckled, pushing against his chest plate. 

Mando let himself rise momentarily, only to fall back onto your chest lazily. Coughing out a laugh, you nudged his side, urging him up from his position. 

“Not yet,” he huffed, helmet settling against your shoulder again. “Just wanna stay here a minute.”

Please stay, you thought to yourself.

[thebibliosphere]

I have a question about MCAS if you've not already covered it and have the spoons for it. When your (or anyone else in generals) symptoms started, or at least when you first noticed them/looked back on things and realized they were probably MCAS related, did they start slowly and less severe with like, gut upsets, intolerances, and a little itching, or did it go straight to anaphylaxis reactions?

(Full disclosure I'm asking cause I have POTS, am in diagnosis hell for likely hEDS, and have been noticing more and more foods that make my tummy pipes unhappy recently, and I'm wondering if there's anything I should be on the look out for.)

And give the dogter mop a kiss on the head for me!!

MCAS is progressive; very few people start out with instant anaphylaxis unless they have true IgE allergies. For myself and many others, it started out as small things like upset stomachs, itching, headaches, mild allergic reactions, etc. Not everyone experiences anaphylaxis with MCAS, but if it goes untreated long enough, it can progress to that.

If I had been treated 'early' (they didn't know it existed when I was a kid), it likely wouldn't have progressed to anaphylaxis or any of the other complications I've suffered. Sometimes, an illness can make it ramp up in intensity as well, so that's something else to watch out for. Covid in particular seems insidious for it.

If you're already noticing one or two things and already have POTS, I'd suggest asking your POTS doctor about doing a trial of antihistamines. Some POTS patients find relief in following the MCAS starter protocol, which is usually 10mg of cetirizine (Zyrtec), 20mg of famotidine (Pepcid) twice a day, and 25mg of Benedryl at night. If that helps your POTS, further investigation into MCAS would be warranted.

(Please note I'm not telling you what meds to take. I'm letting you know what the MCAS starter protocol is in case your POTS doctor isn't aware of it so you can talk to them about it.)

Best of luck, friend, and consider Dogter Mop smooched on your behalf!

[zoeykallus]

Ello Zoey!! 👋

Sorry if this is too much or not,

Can I request some HCs of the bad batch’s fem! s/o being clumsy. They always see y/n trip, and sometimes catch her by the back of her shirt, to make sure she doesn’t fall.

Aloha!

Sounds kinda cute, let me give it a try 😁

The Bad Batch x Fem!Reader HCs - Clumsy

Fluff/Fun

________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

________

>Master List<

________

Hunter

His senses, his perception, are always alert and very attentive around you. Actually, you are not that long together yet, but nevertheless, you can no longer count on your fingers how many times he has already saved you from injuries and greater damage. Be it tripping at an inopportune moment, dropping dangerous objects or accidentally leaning against unsafe/dangerous objects. Of course, he can't be around you 24/7, so he frequently tends to minor wounds you accidentally inflict on yourself, like cuts while cooking, or minor burns and bruises. Hunter, meanwhile, has developed yet another sense, another antenna, that is solely concerned with you. Whenever he's near you, his neural pathways buzz as soon as you trip, falter, or drop something, and he's on the spot in a flash. Luckily for you, he likes to do that and even if he sighs more often or breathes a sigh of relief when he can prevent the worst from happening, he'll never complain. "I got you, darling"

Echo

He sighs as he grabs you in the back of your jacket and pulls you back, keeping you from falling off the ramp. "Sometimes you scare me Love, one of these days you're going to fall when I'm not around and crack your skull or something," he says grumbling. You smile crookedly and say, "I'm trying not to do that." "So far you're not doing very well," Echo says, kissing your cheek. Tending to minor cuts, bruises and the like on you are already routine for Echo, as is the quick grab to keep you from falling. His reflexes and senses can't keep up with Hunter, but he's not too far off either. In any case, around him, it's extremely rare for anything to happen to you, despite your clumsiness. He is constantly worried and expresses it, but at the same time he is tireless in protecting you, sometimes even from yourself.

Wrecker

You are lying on the floor. Somehow you tripped over something, maybe even your own feet, hit your head and went down unconscious. "Hey, sweetie, you okay?" You open your eyes and look up into Wrecker's face, which hovers over you with concern. The next moment, you're carefully picked up by two strong hands and set down on one of the bunks. You blink and say, "Yeah, I think so, fell and hit my head". Wrecker raises his eyebrows. "Again? Now that's what I'm starting to worry about," Wrecker says as he carefully examines your head. He finds a bump, but no open wound. "Maybe Tech or Echo should do a scan, just in case," he says seriously. Wrecker always keeps an eye on you when you're around him, and his strong hand keeps providing protection and safety, but you keep managing to accidentally hurt yourself. "I have a headache," you say softly, rubbing the bump gently. Wrecker kisses your forehead and says, "I'm not surprised, but don't worry, sweetie, we'll take care of it." Wrecker is very patient and a total softie when it comes to you.

Tech

He is engrossed in his Holopad, eagerly calculating a few things to follow up on one of his hunches, when he hears a small noise, accompanied by a surprised little exclamation, followed by a slightly louder rumble. He blinks. Lowers the holopad and finally sighs softly. "My love?" He hears your voice from the hallway, "Um, yeah, over here. Could you maybe help me out for a second?" Tech hastily puts the holopad aside, stands up and walks into the hallway. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees that you've managed to stumble into the utility closet and got tangled up in Hunter's fishing gear. Tech says dryly, "My dear, you really do have a special talent." You sigh, "Don't joke around now please honey, just help me instead". Tech shakes his head but comes closer and starts untangling you from fishing line and other items and finally pulls you out of the chamber. "I really can't let you out of my sight," he says gently and at the same time reprovingly. You shrug your shoulders and reply meekly, "I'm really not doing this on purpose, Tech." "It's okay," he says with a smile, kissing your cheek, fishing a plastic bait out of your hair, and adding, "I'm just glad you're usually lucky enough to avoid major injury."

Crosshair

He hears a clang, then a rumble. "Let me guess, you're home again, honey?" he asks dryly without looking up. You say just as dryly, "No, I'm a burglar". With a sigh, Crosshair gets up from his chair and walks into the kitchen. You've managed to knock over a vase and an end table, tearing your pantyhose in the process. "A pretty talentless burglar," he says, grabbing your arm and pulling you back to your feet, "Did you hurt yourself?" You shake your head and sigh. "No, I don't think so." Crosshair crouches down and looks at your leg, just a run in the tights, no scrapes in the skin underneath. He stands back up, kisses your cheek, maneuvers you around the debris, and finally picks up the pieces. Crosshair usually counters your clumsiness in his own way with jokes and sarcasm, but always watches out for you, and takes care of your wounds and the property damage you cause. He grumbles now and then, but he is much more patient and caring than he sometimes pretends to be.

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

[lifblogs]

Better Late Than Dead

Fandom: The Bad Batch Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Pairing: Tech/Phee Word Count: 1268 Summary: Tech arrives on Pabu for the first time since he was rescued from Dr. Hemlock, and put his mind back together (mostly). A special someone is there waiting for him. AUTHOR'S NOTE: Disclaimer, I have PCS (Post-Concussion Syndrome) so this story could be a mess, it could be great. I don't know, but I tried, and I had fun. First story I've written since I hit my head. I am sooooo nervous about it for some reason. This fandom seems like nothing but kind, though. If you read it, thank you. READ ON AO3

Tech paused getting off the ramp. Once he stepped off onto Pabu he would no longer just be on the Marauder with his family. He would exist in a public space, with people who… might not understand, who would see him differently. He was different.

There were some stares from the crowd, but he couldn’t track all of them, faces blurring and disappearing as he watched. But maybe those eyes were still on him.

Subconsciously, he touched the back of his head, feeling the metal plate there that replaced part of his skull, felt the lines where his scalp had split, where either through injury or one of his many surgeries his brain had been exposed. His new and enhanced left eye (replacing the gouged one from Plan 99) searched the space before him frantically, but he tried to take in what the right saw first: bright, blue skies with white, puffy clouds; a calm ocean for kilometers on end; happy people in colorful clothing—survivors, every one of them. How could such a place exist when he’d been through such horrors in Hemlock’s dark labs? Now it was like this beautiful place only half-existed.

The beauty was what his right eye saw. The left one… He hadn’t had a chance to reprogram it yet. Most of what he saw through it was a dizzying array of heat signatures, structural integrities, and the best places to shoot a target. According to his eye, everyone was a target. This was all superimposed over his regular vision from his right eye. The confusing signals to his brain usually left him with the feeling as if his eyes were being scooped out (half a phantom pain and reminiscent of his real horrors), and it would throb up into his head. With the metal plate added in, he had more headaches than he could manage on most days.

Still feeling anxiety churning in his gut; cold, clammy fear gripping the back of his neck and stripping him bare, he held up his new datapad. Tech decided to do a quick check of his metabolic system, and the absorption levels of his various injected pain meds, and their half-lives. This was done through a chip implanted at the base of his skull. Unfortunately that had required an extra surgery, seeing as that hadn’t fit in the area where he’d needed his skull repaired.

His datapad beeped quietly, and a yellow bar showed up near the top. He’d need to re-inject his left hip soon.

Tech glanced up, the real galaxy around him becoming too real. Coming towards the ramp with a hesitant smile and shining eyes was Phee.

His heart suddenly seemed too big, blood somehow beating hard all across his torso, even as it crawled up his throat. Phee. He really had thought of her, even remembered one instance of Hemlock torturing him for mentioning her name. He shuddered, his mechanical left leg shifting in a way that seemed too obvious and inhuman to him.

Tech wasn’t the same.

Am I even Tech?

No, no. You’ve… you’ve been over this already. Done the work. I. Am. Tech.

And he had thought about Phee in what he had thought would be his last moments. He’d surprisingly had the time to think about a lot of people.

He’d thought about his last-minute realization, and he’d mourned what could have been. And now… there she was. Here he was. Pabu. Safety. Phee.

Tech took a deep breath, tried to swallow back his fear, and stepped down the ramp, all too aware of how he looked now. Feeling clumsy with this changed body, he struggled to put his datapad back on his belt. One last thing to put between this moment and the next, the inevitable.

Phee met him at the bottom of the ramp, letting him step off. For a moment the voices around them dimmed, but neither of them spoke.

Oh no, she’s horrified. She’s disgusted. She’s—

“You look different.”

Blunt, as always.

“Oh.”

“I think I like it.”

“You… do?” Tech asked, caught off guard as he usually was with her. (How could anyone script conversations with a flirtatious, bold pirate?)

She shrugged. Was she… crying?

Some of his vision blurred. His eye malfunctioning? No. His right one. He was crying.

Hesitantly, she touched his shoulder. Tech jumped a little, but let her warm, assuring touch stay there. He wondered what that hand felt like—strong, calloused.

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

Was this him? All these differences, and injuries, and modifications?

Well, he was still Tech, so he supposed that made the plate in his skull him, the chip, the cybernetic leg, and eye. Still… Tech. Just different. A new Tech.

“I suppose.” He was surprised to hear himself speak.

“Then of course I like it! But I have a bone to pick with you.”

Tech almost backed away, startled, as her finger prodded against his chest.

What bone?

What—Oh!

“Seven months?!” she went on, voice raised and rough. “I don’t see you for seven months?! And all I could get out of Mr. Face Tattoo was that you were ‘indisposed.’”

“Sorry I’m… late,” he got out, as if that somehow summed up everything that had changed his life, that had even affected hers.

That’s when a sob left Phee, and her tears spilled, and she cupped Tech’s scarred face in her hand. It was calloused, just like he’d thought it’d be. Something about her touch was reassuring and invigorating all at once.

And it was kind.

Tech hadn’t realized how much he’d needed someone outside his family to support him until that moment. It left him weak in his right knee, and he might have trembled.

Phee sobbed again, and then got out with a smile bright enough to rival the stars, “But still—better late than dead, I always say.”

Tech held her hand against his face for a second, marveling at the feeling, her words. Then he wasn’t sure who pulled who into an embrace, but suddenly she was flush against him, her heart beating fast, chest moving with her sobs, a wild scent of ocean salt, island fruit, and some kind of warm spice surrounding him. With his chin tucked against her shoulder, and her head resting against his he learned her hair was a softness he’d never felt before.

“Though of course you had to lose one brown eye on me,” she joked. He was surprised when it didn’t hurt, not from her.

“I’ll try not to lose the other one.”

“You’d better. What am I supposed to call you now? ‘Brown Eye’ doesn’t sound romantic.”

“We could… make it romantic,” he ventured, voice a soft murmur against her.

Phee laughed, and pulled back, patting his cheek. “Honey, I’m not sure you know what romance is.”

For the first time since Plan 99, months and months ago, Tech laughed—something he’d thought he would never be capable of again. And, he thought, maybe he’d like to do it again. With Phee.

“I’m smart,” he assured her, watching as she wiped away her tears, wishing he could do it for her. He went on, surprising himself, “I’m sure I can learn.”

Phee took his hand in hers, and Tech was startled by how much he enjoyed that her hand was smaller than his.

“Well, come on then,” she said, starting to drag him along, towards society as a whole new person. “You’re gonna have a lot of studying to do.”

Tech smiled, somehow, as he followed her, leaving just a little bit of that dark lab behind him.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

I just read ur Masky angst post and I now need a fic where the reader and Tim both bond over the hallucinations they’ve been having ☹️☹️

The reader starts getting them but avoids telling Tim, then one day he notices the reader staring at an empty window facing the forest. At that moment, something clicks and he just KNOWS. So he approaches the reader and they talk abt it, from then on its them against the world or that weird tall man…

—love ur work btw 🙏

I'm not doing the font thing anymore im tired of it 😭 anyways YES i love this idea!!

Divider credits go to @saradika-graphics! Go follow them and support their work

Thank you so much for requesting!!

Tiresome (part 2)

It saw you, you know it did

You don't think you were supposed to see it, though

Ever since that night with Tim, things have been....different

You find yourself drifting off almost constantly, and when you come back to the present moment you are almost always facing the forest by your apartment

Then the ringing starts

At first it's barely noticeable, just a ringing in your ear every now and then

But it continues ramping up the closer and closer you get to the forest, if you were to sit out on your balcony your hearing would be completely filled with the ringing

The ringing gives you headaches, really painful ones that never seem to go away

You go to the doctor to see if they can give you any prescribed pain meds, but they don't have anything except a recommendation to drink more water and spend less time on electronics

Eventually you get so tired of the ringing that you decide to just pop any kind of pills that look like they'd do something

You eventually reach Tim's mystery pills, he still hasn't told you what they're for, and the label has been scratched off so you can't even see a name or dosage

Nothing else has worked yet, so you decide to take your chances and pop a pill into your mouth

After about 30 minutes, the pills kick in and everything becomes quiet.....still

Life is normal again, not filled by the eerie sense of dread and fear you have whenever you glance at the forest

The ringing is gone

The pills work for a little bit, but then your condition worsens

You begin seeing static at random times, and whenever your vision returns, you are standing right outside of the forest

You begin to take more and more pills per day, and with how many Tim has, he doesn't seem to notice

You've begun to notice a schedule of sorts to your hallucinations, they happen every evening around 6pm and every morning around 7am

Exactly when Tim leaves and returns

You begin trying to resist these weird spells, locking yourself into your bathroom when you hear the ringing

However, if you don't give in, you will eventually get a brain splitting migraine and begin vomiting this thick black goopy substance

You are able to hide your condition for a while though, despite this

One night when Tim gets home earlier than usual, he finally seems to have confirmation in your strange behavior

The sliding door to your balcony is wide open, the cool night air blowing the curtains into the apartment

You are standing at the edge of the balcony, leaning against the railing with an almost empty stare into the forest

Tim comes up behind you, pressing a hand to your back and asking if you're alright

You won't move your gaze away, only dreamily whisper "He's coming to get me"

This is when it clicks for him, seemingly he understands everything at that moment

His eyes widen, he grabs you by your shoulders and shakes you lightly "Hey, hey, listen to me. Whatever you think you see, you don't. He isn't real, he isn't coming for you."

You sleepily look back over to the forest, before your breath catches in your throat and your entire body fills with fear "He's coming to get me" You say with a trembly voice

"He's coming to get me! He's coming to get me! He's coming to get me!" You repeat over and over again, desperately trying to escape Tim's grasp so you can run off

Tim rushes you inside, locks the balcony door and closes the curtains, all while you are still adamant that "he's coming to get you"

He sits you down on the couch and grabs a few pills from a nearby bottle, stuffing at least 3 into your mouth and making you swallow them

"Y/n, you have to listen to me. He is not real. I know he seems really real, but he's not real. He's a hallucination your brain created, just like me, ok?"

It is then that you puke all over the coffee table, the pills coming right back up with it, the same black goopy substance coating the carpet

"Shit, shit, shit" Tim mutters to himself, picking you up and carrying you into a spare closet

The lights begin to flicker and static covers both of your visions

He sets you down in the closet and holds onto you for dear life, shushing you and trying his best to close the door with limited vision

You don't know how many hours or days you two stayed like this, hunched together in this small closet, being unable to see and only being able to pray that he leaves soon

When he does finally leave and your vision clears, you are both quiet for many hours before you finally speak

"He's coming for both of us"

[slvtiny]

Missing Puzzle Piece

Pairing: Hongjoong x afab/gn reader

Warning ⚠️: cursing, mention of sex,lmk if I missed any.

[a/n: This is a scenario, and I may or may not write on it later. It's not proof read so expect spelling errors, if you want to use this in your works then lmk and make sure to tag me in it 😊. Reblogs and comments are appreciated. Feedbacks are welcome as well. I won't keep you long but I will tell you that you might want to keep a tissue or two handy. That's it, I hope you like it]

Hongjoong had lost his group ring again

You did want to propose to him soon

Is it a sign??

How can he wear 2 rings on the same finger without being bothered about it?

You go with him to get the group ring reordered

And when he isn't paying much attention you tell them to put a hold to the making of the ring and make an appointment a few days after

Later the same week you go back to the place. Alone this time.

You pull out your design for the ring you wanted to make for him. You discuss details about its girth and the stone you wanted to get

After that is done you tell them to make his group ring a few sizes bigger than the original and to increase the radius within the infinity sign where the Dimond is set in one of its loops

Your idea was to hide your wedding ring inside the group ring

Well you wouldn't call it hiding since the stone in the second loop would give it away if you'd pay attention to it

You'd rather say he'd just have both his wedding rings together as one on his finger

You'd designed yours to have your birth stones embedded on the inner side where no one but he'd see it. Your diamond would sit on top such that it goes through the loop of the infinity on his group ring

Your diamond won't protrude but it would sit as though he'd had the original ring have 2 diamonds instead

The only difference being the tint your diamond had. You'd had the diamond cut into to engrave your initials into it with a drop of your blood and then stitched up like some pouch of a pact with the devil he'd made.

To get a natural diamond cut and re-harvested in a lab cost you good and if at all the love you had for him was any less you wouldn't have done it

You'd sat through nights and headaches just sitting at the kitchen counter designing the ring of your dreams

You had no problem at all, with the fact that he loved his members so much that you knew you'd make your ring to mold into it and sit like the rings are hugging each other

You loved them too, you couldn't imagine not having them in your life. You couldn't imagine your marriage without the chaos they'd bring, the laughs, the bickering, the love quarrels the stupid comments.

You couldn't imagine proposing to the love of your life without the help of the menaces who got you to fall into your future husband's arms, without their teasing.

You couldn't help but tear up waiting to collect the rings.

Hongjoong was your forever, till death and beyond, if not for eternity and all.

You had the ring, the dress, the hair inspo, the makeup, the nails, the heels, the venue, the plot for your trap to get your Joongie out of his studio, dressed and at the venue and your super supportive beastie Wooie.

5 hours to sunset. Everything is according to plan. Hwa has your Joongie out of the studio and preparing for a shower. You're sitting with Woo having your panic picnic at your apartment while he colors your hair.

3 hours to go. You're dolled up and getting pep talked to in the backseat of San's car which is taking you to the beach villa you bought last summer without telling anyone. Wooyoung had gasped offended when you told him you'd had this villa since late June.

The weather was pleasant, it hadn't rained and the skies were clear without signs of possible rain..

You were shaking, nervous and excited. Palms sweaty, breath heavy, heartbeat so rapid he could rap over it.

Just, as a confused Hongjoong walks up to the trail of flowers you'd prepared as a ramp for him. Nudged by his only hyung he continues to trace the trail.

You kneel on one knee, your hands resting on the other.

He finally walks up to you eyes teary and hands full with the Polaroids you had laid out pinned to the vines along the trail.

He stands in front of you and you look into his eyes. Like a dream to good to be true. But it was your destiny and you had come a long way to be here.

Bringing out the little ring box. You take a deep breath, flip it open and look the love of your life in the eyes.

"I did prepare a speech but I don't remember any of it. All I know is that I love you and I want you and I want to have kids with you and grow old and when we're dead I want to haunt with you. I want you to be mine.

Will you marry me?"

Tears trickle down your cheeks as you look at him. He's frozen, as he blinks his tears away.

He stomps his feet like a little kid.

"That’s not fare, I wanted to ask you first."

You blink at him confused as he kneels right in front of you, drawing a similar box out from his pocket and next to your hand he opens it.

"Marry me."

You're bawling your eyes and so is he. He pulls you in for a quick kiss before letting out his finger for you to put his ring on him as you follow to do the same. You recognize the tinted Dimond and look up to him in disbelief.

"Baby your drunk ass tells me all about your fantasies, I've known you'd want a diamond like no other, one with my sole etched to you forever."

"I fucking love Kim Hongjoong"

"I love fucking you Kim y/n"

P.S.

Attempt at comedy:

Wooyoung pops the champagne and the cork hits your head and then everyone makes Mrs. Kim Shorty jokes some including "you'll have short children since both of you are short".

Tagged: @chocoholicbabe1994 @pirateprincessoz

[paingoes]

Destroyer - Moonshine

(Masterlist)

dont tell the others, but this is my favorite chapter by far

(Content: fainting, nausea, overexertion, alcohol, crying) 

==================

Things were ramping up quickly. The missions now came almost back to back, the temporal limitations of space the only obstacle to their continuity. Delta was out in the field at least once a week. Not every job was as dramatic as the deadly laser light show had been, but they were hitting critical targets for the Empire. After the display at the mech site, money suddenly flowed in. Life aboard the Thorn grew a bit more bearable for the soldiers, now getting reacquainted with the affluence that followed the Empire. Simon had been given better tech to train with and was putting it to good use. Delta snapped the heads off of the dummies without a second thought, perhaps dangerously overtrained in his responsiveness. All the excitement was getting to him. He clenched his fist to destroy the next test-dummy and the next thing he knew, he was on the floor.

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” Simon tilted him onto his side, in recovery position. Delta winced as the shock wore off, a dull headache replacing it. Once his head had stopped spinning uncontrollably, he carefully sat up, trying not to vomit from the exertion. Simon sat cross-legged beside him, offering him a juicebox and some crackers. Anything heavier would’ve just added to the nausea.

“How are you feeling, champ?” Simon asked, nudging the juice closer to him, “Feels like we’ve hardly had time to talk recently.”

“I’m okay, sir,” Delta murmured. His head was between his knees, waiting for the rest of the vertigo to drop off, “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Yeah, but with all the changes, y’know. I wanted to check in on you,” Simon leaned in, trying to study his expression, “Emotionally, I mean. See if you were adjusting okay.”

“I’m stable,” Delta said. This was always the answer that got doctors to leave him alone. They’d pry, sometimes, trying to get a more detailed picture of his mental state. It was all just to evaluate his fitness. He would never give them reason to doubt it. He was stable - and you didn’t have to worry about him breaking down or going postal or anything like that.

Simon looked disappointed. He pulled his bag closer, retrieving a medium-sized paperback from it. The cover was a deep red. He offered it to Delta, who immediately began to flip through it.

“It’s a treatise on empire and succession. I know it’s not what you’re usually into, but it seemed relevant, with all that’s going on right now. I thought you might appreciate it,” Simon shrugged, “I have more once you’re finished with that one. I know you read fast.”

“Thank you, sir,” Delta said softly, placing the book beside him. His eyes flitted up, sensing movement from the balcony. A few people had entered, he didn’t know how long ago. They were watching him. Simon noticed too, a tired grin appearing on his face.

“Just some seniors. Probably want to see what all the fuss is about. Finish your meal, kid. We’re not giving free shows.” Simon patted him on the back. Delta flinched at the touch, then felt ashamed at having done so. He sipped at the juicebox pensively.

============

Delta waited outside of Paris’s door. It’d been a minute with no response, but he heard motion inside. He lightly rapped his knuckles against the steel door, stepping back just in case. 

This time, Paris opened it immediately. “The fuck do you want?” 

There were other people in the room with him, talking loudly amongst themselves, laughing.

“You said-“

Paris didn’t even wait for him to finish, “I’m busy. Take the day off.”

The door slammed shut in his face. 

============

This was fine, really. It gave Delta a chance to rest, catch up on the books he’d been reading. But he found himself strangely restless, wanting to pace along the floors of the ship. It was so much busier than it had been a few weeks ago. When he stepped into the central hub, a wave of déjà vu washed over him. There were the Emperor’s old generals and commanders, each of them orbited by their respective factions. He hadn’t seen most of them since his childhood. He was surprised Paris had even allowed them onboard. 

Delta was content to observe from the shadows. Most people went out of their way to avoid him, but with his hair tied up and baggy clothing on, he was not so immediately recognizable. He hovered close to the group that belonged to the General Nezu. Though he wasn’t present himself, Delta recognized many of the staff’s faces. Nezu had worked particularly close with the Emperor, especially towards the end. His people had been spread out across several tables, but as their lunchtime drew nearer, they began to disperse. They localized closer and closer to the leftmost exit of the workspace. Delta noticed the laptop left unguarded.

He didn’t know why he did it. He’d never considered himself particularly sneaky, but then again, he’d never really been given the opportunity. With nobody looking, he used a soft aura of telekinetic energy to slide the laptop off the desk and into his hands. He hid it on the inside of his hoodie, then walked silently and swiftly back to his room. He propped up his chair in front of the door so that it couldn’t be opened from the outside. He put out a little pulse, searching for hidden cameras, making sure none had been installed since the last time he checked. Nothing. He knelt down beside the bed and opened the laptop hinges up, just a little bit, enough to tape up the front camera. Then he opened it up completely. 

It hadn’t autolocked in the time it took to reach his room, thank god. The first thing he did was to disable the passcode lock. He’d never been able to use a personal computer before, but Simon had shown him how it worked when he was curious. He’d even given him books on it. Delta sat up abruptly, moving over to his desk. There was a small flash drive in the bottom drawer. He had nabbed it a few weeks ago, but he hadn’t been able to see what was on it until now. He took the compsci textbook out of its pile, sending the others in it crashing to the ground. He startled at the noise, but rushed back to the laptop to finish the mission. He slammed the drive into the USB port, but it didn’t enter. He flipped it over, trying the other side. Still nothing. He flipped it a final time and it slid in smoothly.

The flash drive itself was mostly empty. There were a few folders he would check out later, but for now, he was focused on copying everything the laptop had onto it. It gave him an estimate of 45 minutes. While he waited, he looked through the windows already opened on the screen. One of them was the Empire portal. Another, the site of one of their ship venders. The last was an email inbox with a financial spreadsheet pulled up. Delta ripped out one of the blank pages from the textbook, jotting down the username and passwords of the websites that were open. He saved the email and the password. Then, he clicked around on the browser, searching for other websites with info he could scrape up. But he didn’t know how to navigate the browser intuitively and began to get scared of triggering some alarm. He looked anxiously at the countdown, waiting for the rest of the files to load. 

Delta ejected the drive, taking a deep breath. He hid it back in the drawer, then turned the laptop off. He flipped it over, feeling the device with his hands, letting his powers give him a sense of the small mechanisms inside of it. He was now glad for the precision practice; it let him swiftly unscrew the bottom of it and begin to disassemble the computer’s guts, searching it over for any signs of a location tracker. When he found none, he gave a sigh of relief, disconnecting the laptop’s battery. He stored them separately, hiding them in a bag beneath his mattress. Then he sat on the mattress, innocently, trying to look calm. It was enough for one day. His hands were shaking too bad to even type, he wasn’t going to push it anymore. He took the book Simon had given him, rolling onto his side to read it.

============

It was well past dinner time when he finally looked up, remembering where he was. Though he wanted to stay in his room, he figured he should probably go eat something before tomorrow. They sprang missions on him all the time now and they were a lot more miserable if he was undereating the day of. He removed the chair from the door, slipping out into the hall.

He was just outside of the kitchen when he heard a soft sobbing. He did a double take, looking down the hall. In one of the offshoot corridors, all the way down by the end, a figure was collapsed against the wall and crying into their hands. With a start, Delta realized it was Paris. He was piss drunk. 

Delta kept walking. The institute he’d grown up in had nurtured certain traits in its students, and empathy was not among them. Nor was excessive emotionality valued in the empire. He filled up his bag with fruit and granola bars, ready to hide out in his room the rest of the night. But as he exited and saw Paris quiet, now toppled over, he felt a small twinge of concern. He hesitated, weighing over the options in his head. Nobody would know if he left, least of all Paris. He wouldn’t even remember any of this in the morning. But it wouldn’t do good to have the prince passed out defenseless, on a ship swarming with his enemies. Delta rolled his eyes, readjusting the bag on his shoulder before heading down the hall. 

“Your Highness?” Delta bent down beside the still form, prodding him gently, “Paris?”

Paris groaned. His face was puffy with a drunken blush. Tear tracks were still visible. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Leave me alone,” he whined.

“Alright,” Delta stood up.

“Waitno. Please,” Paris said, his speech slurring. He sounded so sad. “Mm sorry. Don’t go.”

He reached a hand out to grasp Delta’s sleeve, but it wasn’t demanding. It was pleading. He looked like he was going to cry again. Delta gently removed his hand.

“C’mon. Stand up,” he offered both hands to Paris, who took them cautiously. Paris stood up shakily. He was both taller and heavier than Delta - and much stronger, even when he wasn’t trying to be. Delta nearly fell over as Paris leaned on him.

“Wherewe going?” He mumbled.

“Bed,” Delta told him. Paris let out a small giggle, before remembering how miserable he was.

“They fucking left meee,” Paris’s voice was both high and raspy. Delta walked him down the hall. He took him into the elevator, confident they would not make it up the stairs. Delta shushed him, which did not work.

“They’re all juss snakes and vipers. They don’t have feeeeelings. None of em care.” His voice was weepy and without venom. “Nobody care. How am I supposed to save this? Is ruined. I can’t.”

The elevator door dinged open. Delta half-pushed, half-carried him out. Paris took the wall for support, which was a great help. They managed to stumble down the remaining length of the hallway until they’d arrived at Paris’s room. Delta had to scan the keycard for him; he was looking at it like he didn’t know what it was. Delta fumbled for the lightswitch, throwing Paris off in the general direction of the bed. Delta shut the door, looking around the room. It was totally trashed, even worse than usual. Bottles laid everywhere, as well as various loose articles of clothing, makeup and face paint. He pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing he’d be the one to clean it up in the morning. Paris was crumpled up on the bed, still fully dressed. 

“Do you want to take your shoes off?” Delta asked him, keeping a considerable distance. Paris kicked them off with real signs of struggle, even worse when he had to remove his jacket. With a sigh, Delta unbuttoned the front for him, peeling it off his shoulders. He was slick with sweat and grime. Not seeming to care, Paris collapsed back down on the bed, at least this time managing to get his head on the pillow. Delta moved to bring him a glass of water from the bathroom sink.

“Thank you,” Paris said sweetly as he placed the glass down on the nightstand.

“Don’t mention it,” Delta rolled his eyes. He jumped when Paris reached for his wrist.

“Stay?” Paris begged, “Please stay.” 

Delta wrenched his wrist away. “Absolutely not. You’ll beat the shit out of me if I’m still here in the morning.”

“Nuh I won’t,” Paris promised, “Please stay.”

“Goodnight, Your Highness,” Delta backed out the door, flipping the light off.

~~~

Tags: @catnykit @indigoviolet311 @snakebites-and-ink

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Sanctuary part 2

Chapter 18: Barton IV

A/N: I had a shitty weekend being alone and girlrotting on the sofa. So I decided to post a chapter to cheer myself up 🤣

Warnings: 18+, canon violence, angst, mentions of death, blood, Crosshair being a snarky bastard, Echo being lovely.

Word Count: 6.2k+

Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19

Masterlist

Tagging: @subbing-for-clones @fandom-fortress

“On approach.” Your stomach lurched with the aftermath of being pulled from hyperspace, the snowy planet looming ahead of you.

The last few hours had been spent with you drifting in and out of sleep, surrounded by Tech until he had to get up and help Echo. A headache was brewing between your eyes, you knew absently rubbing the spot wouldn’t do anything but you couldn’t stop.

“Reading minimal life signs,” Tech announced from the copilot’s seat. Hunter cast a glare at Crosshair who stood stoically in the corner, keeping his attention on the toothpick in his mouth.

The tension was like a living beast, prowling around the cockpit. You could almost feel it with your hands, stretched between the brothers and ready to snap. Maybe they were the cause of your headache.

Everything about this planet was stark and bleak. Sunlight reflected off the snow, blinding in its clarity.

“Is that the base?” Omega asked, pointing to what looked like a row of sensors buried in deep snow.

“I am not registering any heat signatures from inside,” Tech said.

“Nothing on comms either. There’s no one here.” Echo added. You felt the faint tug of Crosshair’s confusion, saw the flicker of his gaze to the canopy before he snapped it back down to the floor.

“Let’s go have a look, shall we?” Hunter uncrossed arms and stalked from the cockpit once the ship landed. You blew out a breath, lifting a hand to massage the dull ache in your forehead.

“Is there something causing you distress?” Tech was at your side, his brow furrowed with concern.

“There’s a load of testosterone floating about.”

“Ah. The imminent confrontation between Hunter and Crosshair.”

“Yes.”

“I heard Omega suggesting Crosshair talk to Hunter. I do not think the conversation has occurred, based on their antagonistic behaviours.” Tech handed you a blaster for your holster as he talked. You slid it home, grabbing your helmet to put on, twisting it until it felt comfortable. The HUD blinkered to life with the crackle of the internal com.

You were worried. Cross had become more and more withdrawn the closer you got to Barton IV and you were fairly sure it had nothing to do with Hunter. Though, he didn’t help matters.

The screen adjusted, taking the abrupt glare off the snow when the ramp opened, so you didn’t have to squint. Batcher ran out, clearly happy to be back on solid ground again. Everyone else followed the hound, taking a moment to breathe in the fresh, crisp air, to expand their chests and just let the world around brighten them for a moment. You crouched, resting a hand on the top layer of snow. Faint vibrations could be felt, intermittent and barely worthy of attention.

Crosshair was the last to leave the ship. Dread filled his steps, the sadness that lingered in the air around him made you glance back. He felt so alone, thoughts were clouding his mind but nothing you could get a read on. Not that you tried. Whatever had happened here struck a chord within Crosshair.

“A black ice vulture.” Your attention followed Tech’s to the large bird circling above. The creature looked black with the sun behind it, accenting the vast silhouette of its wide sweeping wings.

You sensed Crosshair’s melancholy sigh expel from him. The lacerating ache that pressed on him made you wince. A scar so deep it still bled, even now.

“You said this outpost was remote,” Hunter accused the sniper. “Not abandoned entirely.” You stood, cautiously stepping up when Hunter took a few steps towards Crosshair. You didn’t need to open yourself to feel the rage and confusion that encompassed Hunter right now.

“Well, I didn’t get daily intel briefings in my cell.” Typical response, scathing and sarcastic enough from Crosshair to hide the pain beneath his words.

“I get the feeling there’s more to this base than you’re saying.”

“Enough,” you murmured to Hunter, putting a hand on his vambrace. His helmet swung round, only too easily could you picture the frown of annoyance on his tattooed face.

The hound barked, pulling the squad to concentrate on something else for a moment. “Batcher! What is it?” Omega ran forward while your gaze swept the horizon.

“What’s goin’ on?” Wrecker asked.

“The sensors are giving off a high frequency tone,” Hunter told them all from behind his binocs. “She must be reacting to it.” An aggravated sigh collected in your chest when he turned back to Crosshair. “What are the sensors for?”

“Perimeter detection against local raiders.”

“You didn’t think to warn us about these raiders before?” Hunter pushed.

“No,” Crosshair answered slowly. “They were dealt with.”

“And how do you know that?” The squad tensed, Wrecker shifted uncomfortably and Echo watched the pair with fixed focus. Tech was observing the vulture still, his datapad no doubt taking readings from the immediate vicinity. You were fairly sure he was easily observing the interaction between his brothers as well.

“Take a guess,” Crosshair sneered.

“Just following orders?” You tried to catch Hunter’s arm but he slipped your grasp, squaring up to Crosshair. The words sent a ripple through everyone, even you. Good soldiers follow orders.

“If you’re scared, why don’t you wait on the ship?”

“Hey!” Echo wedged between them, pushing Hunter back with his hand. “Kill each other later. We’re here for a reason.” He reminded them. “Let’s crack into the datapad and get out of here.”

You stayed near Crosshair, letting the others march off across the snow. Tech tilted his head, hesitating like he was going to wait with you until you gave him a subtle shake of your helmet. You could see the frown, his gaze darted to the sniper at your side. Then he followed the others without protest.

“I said talk to him, not argue with him,” Omega stressed from where stood on Crosshair’s other side.

Crosshair let out a sigh, his shoulders dropping slightly. “He started it.” You fell into step with him, expecting a comment of some sort about your closeness. But he accepted your quiet company beside him, following Omega to join the rest at the closed doors.

“It appears this entrance has not been used in some time,” Tech was saying. “We shall have to dig our way in. The doors will not open easily with this amount of snow against them.”

You watched Hunter and Wrecker kneel down ready to start, only for Batcher to lurch between them. Her wide paws made quick work of the powdery snow, clearly enjoying herself. Your fingers traced the edge of your blaster, pulling it free along with your blade as Wrecker forced the doors open with a screech of grinding metal.

Hunter took point, Echo and Tech fanning out behind him. Wrecker and you flanked them when they moved deeper into the dark, Crosshair and Omega bringing up the rear.

The depot was empty. Your weapons lowered, feeling the chill of the place slither under your armour.

You could sense the hidden echoes.

They rushed to you, forcing their way to someone who could hear them. Whispers teased your ears, so quiet no words could be made out. Muffled shouts cut off abruptly, accompanied by the faint ring of blasters going off. Whatever happened here had not been pleasant. The eeriness reminded you of Tantiss.

Your knees buckled under the mental onslaught, grateful to Crosshair catching your elbow before you fell. A move so subtle, no one else caught it. You leaned against a crate, giving him a nod to tell him you were okay. He only moved a couple of places away, refusing to leave you alone.

The lights flickered on as Tech powered up the console. “The energy stores are almost completely depleted by the sensor beacons. I shall divert all power to this depot, Omega?” He looked round to find her waiting patiently behind him.

“Yep.” She moved a crate over to stand on. “I’m on it,” she said, waggling her fingers before she started pressing buttons under his watchful eye.

You sucked in a breath after removing your helmet and leaving it on a crate. Your weapons were away, leaving your hands free to roam the walls. They spoke to you, vibrating with memory but not enough to give you images. You followed the tremors in the air. Unaware that Crosshair silently dogged your footsteps.

On the other side of the depot was an opening hidden behind tall stacks of crates. Your attention was drawn to it, almost pulled to a particular point until your boots shuffled to a stop. It was dark here, barely any light chased the shadows, but you could see the outline of something on the floor.

Crosshair loomed at your shoulder. His torch light ran over the area, settling on the pile of helmets. He didn’t speak. Didn’t even look at you when he moved past to crouch on the floor. His fingers shook, his presence was crying out with grief as he reached to pick one of them up. You couldn’t handle the level of desolation Crosshair felt at the sight of them, his memories tormenting him on a loop.

The only acknowledgement he gave, was a quick movement of his eyes when you knelt beside him. You picked up a helmet, turning it over in your hands. It was scuffed, dirty, unkempt. Not a fault of the wearer, but the harsh climate. Armour like this was not meant to be worn out here for a long period of time. Your fingers drifted down the material wrapping that had come loose. Not a single one of these helmets warranted being cast on the floor like forgotten waste.

“They deserved so much more.” Your voice was barely a whisper, not wanting to break the quiet of the moment. You put the helmet on top of a crate, turning it to face you. Bending down you retrieved another.

Crosshair put the one he was holding down, aligning it along the edges of the crate. Neither of you stopped until they were all picked up and placed with care. Your heart was heavy at the sight of all these empty helmets.

“What were their names?” Crosshair drew in a breath before he answered.

“Most of them were dead before I arrived,” he informed you in a toneless voice. “Hexx and Veech were killed before we even exchanged greetings.” You felt the lurch within him, the stumble as he caught his words before he uttered them. These memories physically hurt him. Whatever had happened here, cut much deeper than the agony Hemlock had inflicted upon him. “Mayday was the only one I spoke to.”

Your hand reached for his, expecting him to pull away. You gave him that opportunity, making him aware of your intention. Slowly you entwined your hands together, slotting your fingers between Crosshair’s longer ones. He gripped unexpectedly hard. Standing with his head bowed before the row of helmets.

There was nothing that could lessen or take away his suffering. So you gave him the sole thing you could with silent solidarity. Cross let you lean against him, offering comfort in the only way you knew how.

You were aware of Hunter watching from the shadows, heavy with the swirl of regret and guilt that always permeated anything he was feeling when it came to Crosshair. A wave of frustration had him backing up quietly to rejoin the others. You also went to leave Crosshair, to let him remember these clones alone and in private. But he refused to let you go.

So you stayed.

Wrapped in the silence.

Tangled in the sorrow.

Offering quiet respect for the lives lost. You might not have known them, like you knew none of the clones in Tantiss, but you felt them. Your chest expanded with the heartbreak of it all. For the ones already gone and for the ones still fighting.

You collected it all, tucking the intense emotions away, stuffing them deep into the dark until you were ready to use them.

Until it was time.

The ground beneath your feet vibrated. Glancing up at Crosshair, he registered the change in you and let go of your hand.

Omega was still at the console with Tech. “That should do it.” The lights came on fully, power whirring through the depot when you joined the rest of the squad.

“Excellent job,” Tech praised her. “Now we should be able to bypass the encryption and access the intel on the datapad.” Echo was already there, plugging it straight into the system.

“Ah, it’s working,” he informed the squad. “Look at this manifest. There are even more clone prisoners on Tantiss than we thought.” Tech sat in a chair next to Echo and took the ‘pad just as Crosshair reappeared and everyone turned to look at him.

A flash of anger rose unbidden within you. You tried to bite your tongue, but the urge to speak up like you had back on Pabu was overwhelming. “It’s not Crosshair’s fault they’re in there.” Hunter turned his narrowing gaze on you, matching your frown.

“No one has said anything of the sort,” Tech broke the silence, confusion evident in his eyes as he adjusted his goggles. Your fists clenched. The pain in your head was moving, reaching places you didn’t know could hurt. With a frustrated sigh, you turned on your heel and strode for the open door, grabbing your helmet on the way past.

“Where are you going?” You heard Hunter demand over Batcher’s growling.

“With her,” Crosshair stated coolly. “To check the perimeter.”

You didn’t care if they came or not. You just wanted out. It was too much, too heavy. You were thrown back to the inside of your cell in Tantiss, feeling the clones as their lives slipped away.

Jamming your helmet back on you walked out past the ship. Slowly, it became easier to breathe. The brightness of the snow burned everything away, the cold wind constantly brought you back to yourself, and it was exactly what you needed. Dropping to the ground, you knelt on the floor and closed your eyes.

Footsteps approached, stopping less than a meter away over to your left. A bird screeched. The vulture. It was closer than before, the tinkling of its icy feathers could be heard as it took flight, startled by another approaching.

“Are you going to be my shadow everywhere?” Crosshair started on Hunter, clearly ignoring the fact he had followed you out here first.

Hunter didn’t hesitate. He’d been holding onto his words for so long nothing could stop him now. “I know you. There’s more you’re not telling us, and I’m done waiting. Start talking, Crosshair.”

Burying your hands in the snow you tried to shut them out, concentrating on the tremors in the ground. But all you could feel was Crosshair’s turmoil as he faced his brother.

“What did you do to finally get on the Empire’s bad side? Betray them, like you did with us?” Resentment rolled off Crosshair at such an accusation. He had been manipulated by those he had once trusted and abandoned by the ones he loved the most. He kept his mouth defiantly shut, refusing to meet the blame in Hunter’s gaze.

Hunter continued his attack on Crosshair. “You thought we’d take you back and not ask questions? I don’t think so. Tell me what changed. What happened Crosshair?”

You shot up at the sound of fists on katarn, seeing Cross stumble back a few steps from the shove. “Stop it!” Hunter’s eyes widened when your hands connected with his own chestplate, pushing him away. “Enough!”

“I need answers!” It was almost a plea, a need to understand so Hunter knew he wasn’t putting his entire family at risk.

“I am more likely to betray you than Crosshair is!” Your candid admission stunned him into silence, shock passed over his features before they hardened. “I have no memories. You all act like you know me and I can feel it in here,” you cried hitting a closed fist to your chest. “But I don’t know you. Hemlock did that to me for a reason. But Crosshair…” you pointed at the taller clone who was shocked at your outburst on his behalf. “He remembers. He fought every step of the way, and for you to stand there and accuse him of betrayal…” Frustration choked your words. “None of us would be here if it wasn’t for Crosshair. Certainly not Omega.” Hunter looked past you, the scowl deepening when Crosshair put a hand on your shoulder and eased you back.

“I killed an Imperial officer,” he admitted. “So yes, I did betray them after they betrayed me.” Crosshair tutted at the change of his brother’s expression. “Oh, don’t pretend like this is all about me. I tried to warn you, Hunter. I risked everything to send you that message. You, ignored it. You let Omega and Stitch be taken to Tantiss.”

Your breath hitched at the intense wave of guilt Hunter felt, but Crosshair wasn’t stopping, he was hurting and needed to inflict that upon someone else.

“Stitch went through what she did because you failed.” Crosshair shoved him in the shoulder. “You’re angry because they escaped with my help, not yours.”

The ground shook. Your hands went out to steady yourself just as Hunter reached to grab you both and hauled you towards him.

Then the world exploded.

Snow and ice shattered as a large creature rose from beneath. A small part of you knew this had been here, noticing the signs but not knowing what they had meant.

A loud roar rattled your insides. You tried to run, only the ground wasn’t beneath your feet anymore as the giant creature came crashing down. You were running in midair, arms and legs flailing uselessly until the ground met you once more. Hunter and Crosshair fell in heaps beside you, scrabbling at the snow to try and find a foothold.

“Come on!” Crosshair grabbed the edge of your breastplate, his fingers curling under the collar and dragging you with a hidden strength.

“The ship!” You gasped.

“Leave it!” Hunter ordered. You could see the others in the doorway. Wrecker was shouting, Batcher was barking. The sound of the wyrm travelling under the snow was a constant snap of echoing thunder.

Each inhale made your chest ache and your muscles burn. Reaching deep, you dragged up the strength Hemlock had given you, unleashing it to save the two men either side of you.

Hunter cried out when his feet left the ground. Wrapping them in your power, forcing them ahead and through the open doors. They fell unceremoniously back into the depot. Rolling along the floor once you released them. You jumped, sliding down the dug out snow and grinding to an uncomfortable halt on the other side. The world outside was sealed off by Wrecker closing the doors, just as the wyrm slammed into them.

“Are you hurt?” Tech sounded so calm but his presence was vibrating with worry.

“I’m fine.” You accepted his outstretched hand anyway, letting him help you until your legs could stand.

“I guess we know what the perimeter sensors are meant to keep out,” Omega stated, her nervousness evident. You all flinched at the sound of another crash into the doors which shook the entire depot.

“Great,” Wrecker growled. “What now?”

“No chance of digging out the ship with that thing out there.” Torches flickered on as Hunter spoke, illuminating all the surrounding grim expressions.

“I have an idea.”

“Please, enlighten us sooner rather than later,” Crosshair seethed at Tech. He was still smarting from the altercation with Hunter, annoyed he wasn’t able to finish what was started. But Tech let the comment slide.

“As Omega correctly stated, the sensor beacons were actively keeping the creature away from the base. Since we have shut them off, that no longer seems to be the case. I suggest we lure the creature outside the perimeter and return power to the beacons.”

“What do we need to do?” Hunter asked.

Echo had returned to the control panel. “There’s a fuse box for the reserve energy grid in the back of this compound.”

“One of us needs to get over there and reset the grid manually,” Crosshair explained.

“I’ll do it!” Wrecker piped up from the doors.

“Omega and I, shall reactivate the defense system once power has been restored,” Tech added.

“I can draw the creature beyond the sensors,” you told Hunter.

“No, you won’t.” Crosshair cut across you. “I’ll handle it.”

“Not alone,” Hunter told him. “We’ll do it together.”

Crosshair’s brow furrowed, eyeing Hunter. “You sure about that?”

Echo turned away from the console. “Stitch and I can spot you both from the tower.”

Hunter’s eyes flickered to you briefly, wondering if he should order you to stay here. Instead he said, “Then let’s get to it, before it tears this place apart.”

There was a brief moment where your gaze connected with Tech’s through your visor. So many words and thoughts swept through you, only to dissipate when he turned away with Omega. There was nothing to say anyway. You took up position next to Echo who gave you a quick nod.

Wrecker hefted the doors open, the wyrm was nowhere to be seen. Hunter counted down silently with his fingers. Anticipation swept between you all, the blaster dug into the palm of your hand through the gloves. The moment elongated into something you had to fill with multiple breaths, waiting for that last finger to fall so you could explode into action.

Echo, Wrecker and you went one way, while Cross, Hunter and Batcher went the other. You were glad the hound went, she was good for Crosshair even if he’d never admit it.

“Three o’clock!” Your teeth ground down at the sound of the firepuncher going off. The ground shook again, Echo stumbled into you, the pair of you steadying each other at the foot of the tower. “Hunter!”

You made it to the top, looking over the edge to see Crosshair peering down a hole. “Hunter fell through!”

“It’s Hunter,” Echo told you, bringing his binocs up. “He’ll be fine.”

“Why?!” Wrecker panted in your ears. “Why is there always a huge monster? Echo, do you see it?”

“I don’t have a visual. Stitch, can you find it?” That’s why Echo wanted you up here.

“I can try.” You shut out Hunter’s pained groans via the com. You ignored Crosshair’s panicked questions to his brother. You blocked Wrecker’s ragged breathing and concentrated on searching for the wyrm.

The world expanded beyond your helmet, wider and further than your body could ever reach. Casting your awareness as far you could, over the surface of the ice, down the ribbed, dark pits of the tunnels, curling around the people caught in your invisible net.

Hunter was in physical pain, not something you could help with right now. Crosshair’s heart rate was elevated, Batcher was a bright spot of joy, despite the current situation. Echo was focussed on his surroundings, including you.

There. Ice cracked alarmingly around you as the wyrm rushed through, like the thick ice was nothing. “It’s heading right for them,” you told Echo.

“Target spotted. It’s right on your tail, about 100 meters and closing.”

“Blaster fire doesn’t pierce its hide.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Echo agreed sullenly as Crosshair fired more shots at the beast. It plunged below the ice, leaving an eerie quiet behind.

“I think I just made it angrier,” Crosshair regretfully said.

“Fantastic,” came Hunter’s breathless reply.

“Can you sense it still?” Your headache was threatening to break your concentration and your awareness tried to snap back to your body.

“No, it’s gone too deep.” Your hands gripped the railing as the first drop of blood fell from your nose inside the helmet.

“Ok. I’m at the fuse box.”

“You have to prime the breaker,” Tech instructed Wrecker.

Your attention split, part of it drifted with Crosshair and Hunter, some stayed connected to Wrecker while most of it searched for the signature of the wyrm.

“Still no sign of that thing,” Echo’s voice sounded far away.

“I feel it,” you whispered.

“Stitch?”

“Is she all right?”

“She’s fine! Concentrate on getting those beacons working.” Echo demanded.

“The wyrm is so angry.” You burrowed down, deeper and deeper into the thick ice. Darkness swallowed you, shaking as it pressed in like solid walls. “Get Hunter out.”

“We found a weak point in the ice. We’ll try to dig through.” Crosshair stated over the com.

“You’ll try?”

“Glad you heard me properly.”

You were drowning. Barely able to hold on, spiralling in the dark, floundering at the anger of a hungry beast. “It’s coming.” Something dark was rising fast, speeding towards you like an arrow, spearing for the centre of your ripples in the force.

“Get up here!” Crosshair snapped.

“Not yet. Where’s the wyrm? Stitch?”

“Stitch, can you sense it?” Echo’s tone rose an octave. “I can’t see it. Stitch!”

Blood was in your mouth, trickling down your face, wetting your teeth and lips. The darkness swirled, pain danced down your spine and you were ripped away from everything.

There you are.

Screams sliced the dark. Raw and pain filled. They yanked on your heart, squeezed your lungs, clawed at your chest. Eviscerating any shred of self. There was no colour, no light, no relief.

Just your soul ripping agony…

“Stitch!” The helmet was removed, allowing you to gasp in fresh cold air. Your eyes strained against the light trying to flood your vision and a hand came up to wipe at your wet face.

“Is she ok?” Echo.

“She is now conscious.” Tech. You were in his arms, his fingers brushing strands away from your face.

“I found this in the depot. Not much in it though.” Omega placed a box beside him, no doubt a medkit.

“It is sufficient.”

“Come on,” Hunter encouraged the others. “Let’s dig the ship out. Crosshair…Crosshair.”

“What?” Came the clipped response.

“She’s in good hands.” A sigh rustled from the lithe clone, his rifle tapping on the floor followed by his retreating footsteps.

Then it was only you and Tech left at the top of the tower.

“What happened?” The groggy feeling made your words muffled. The world swam as you tried to sit up and Tech put a hand on your forehead.

“Do not move. I need to assess your condition.”

“I’m fine.”

“You are bleeding,” he replied curtly. “That is not the definition of fine.” So you lay back on his lap, feeling the tentative wipes as he cleaned your face. Your gaze wandered over the shape of his helmet, catching the look of concentration in his eyes. Even with a deep frown framing them, they were beautiful. Occasionally they met yours, only to slide away again.

His touch was gentle, carefully ridding you of the blood stain that had smeared everywhere. You let him manipulate your head, giving him access to under your chin and behind your ears. No one had cared for you like this before, it almost brought tears to your eyes.

Tech hadn’t given you a response the first time, so you asked again. “What happened?”

“For once, I am not entirely certain. I have a theory, but I would appreciate your input first.”

You were about to say you had no idea when a coldness crept from the void in your chest. “Something happened to me. Something dark.” Tech paused in his actions, tilting his head to the side. When you didn’t continue, he took it upon himself to fill your silence.

“I do not know how Hemlock is able to completely alter a clone to such a fundamental level and then reprogram them. It cannot be a pleasant experience.”

“That would imply he knows what I am.” The words tasted like bile behind your teeth. The thought of what happened, what Hemlock did to you, made you feel weak.

“It does.” You didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“I think I can sit up now.” The world wasn’t spinning, the headache lingered at the edges of your mind but you could ignore it. “Do you have some water?” Tech handed you a container with the lid already off. It took a couple of mouthfuls to wash the metallic taste of blood away.

“Is it customary for you to bleed when utilising the force for extended periods of time?”

“It only happened with the Holocrons. I didn’t bleed before. Though, nothing he asked of me was as strenuous as that task.” The wind whipped into the tower, bringing the sound of Wrecker and Omega laughing, Batcher growling as she helped dig out the ship, and the noise of the other shovels.

Tech rose to a crouch. “I have yet to go through the intel on Nala Se’s datapad. It could potentially have notes relating to you.”

“I never met this, Nala Se,” you murmured.

"That is not unexpected. Omega spent the majority of her captivity on Tantiss with Nala Se and did not come across the knowledge you were also being held." You could hear him tidying up the medkit. You felt exhausted, unable to block out his worries, or the tatters of his thoughts that kept brushing against your own. You wanted to be around him but didn’t at the same time, it was confusing and it added weight to your already troubled mind.

“I should help with the ship.”

“You have orders to stay here and rest.” Tech huffed when you ignored him. Taking the steps slowly enough so he caught up with you in a matter of moments. “I really must insist you rest.”

“I thought I was the medic,” you muttered.

“Until your memories are restored, I have stepped into that role.” Tech slipped an arm around your waist, curling his hand over the utility belt at your hip.

“You might have to keep it,” you told him sullenly. You weren’t sure if your memories were ever going to return.

“I am adapt at triage and trauma in the field, but I do not possess your level of experience or knowledge.”

A scoff left you at his words. “Neither do I.” He pursed his lips, a slight furrow between his eyes as he helped ease you down the last couple of steps, onto the frozen snow. You expected him to back away, not keep his arm on your waist as you both headed towards the ship.

Crosshair was the first to notice your approach, sticking his shovel in the snow and leaning on it. A toothpick rolled from one side of his mouth to the other, his sharp eyes clocking the position of Tech’s arm.

“Better?” He asked once you got close enough.

“Better than I was.”

“I told her she needs rest, a request that has been ignored.” Crosshair subtly cocked an eyebrow at Tech.

“Not surprised,” his voice taking on a chilled tone that told everyone he was going to say something nobody would like. “You’re fussing over her like a bantha matriarch.” Tech straightened at his brother’s words, his expression falling into a blank mask. Crosshair also adjusted his position, arms falling away from the top of the shovel so he could square up to Tech if he needed. You looked between them, noticing, for the first time, how equal they were in height.

“I am the only one fully capable of caring for Stitch after an episode.” Tech sounded like he was defending himself in the face of his brother’s obvious scorn.

“You don’t have to mither her,” Crosshair scolded him and you tried not to roll your eyes at their bickering.

“Stitch would inform me if she did not desire my assistance.” Both of them looked at you with matching golden brown eyes. One set narrowed and urging you to speak up, the other you were much more familiar with. Tech kept his expression neutral, but being called out by Crosshair did not sit well with him.

“I can walk,” you told Tech gently, noticing the way he dropped his arm immediately. “And I can speak for myself,” you shot at Crosshair, with a deep scowl. The flare of triumph that came from him was surprising, you weren’t sure if it was to do with Tech backing off or the venom in your words to Cross. You hoped the latter.

The ramp was down, so you headed for it, ignoring Hunter’s ever watchful gaze and leaving the brothers behind.

Echo was in the cockpit, running a swift diagnostic on the main systems and checking for hull damage. He didn’t say anything when you carefully sat yourself in the copilot’s chair. His eyes were lighter than the rest of the squad, appearing more liquid gold than anything else. His skin was paler too, showing how traumatic his stint in captivity really had been.

The scomp, that used to be a hand, rotated steadily in the socket yet his attention was fixed on you.

“What’s it like?” You asked quietly.

Echo glanced over his shoulder. “Dealing with that lot? Tiresome. But I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he admitted and a genuine grin broke out over your face.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He frowned in puzzlement and you drew in a breath before continuing. “You’re aware of me, talking to me and yet you’re sorting through all the information the ship gives you.”

“Oh. That.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it…”

Echo shook his head, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it…but no one has ever asked me that.” His eyes unfocused slightly, and you settled back into the seat. “I’ve never had to put it into words before.” He contemplated for a longer moment, glancing at you with those earnest pale eyes. “It can be seamless, communicating with a receptive computer is always a better experience. Some, can give attitude.”

“Attitude?”

“Never ask Fi’s onboard computer to calculate multiple hyperspace jumps,” he chuckled. “Bleeding thing fought me every step of the way.” His expression sobered as he pulled his scomp free, looking at it for a moment. “Wat Tambor did this to me. It helped him for a time, having me in his control with these enhancements, but in the end they aided me more. They are a part of me now, doesn’t matter how I got them.” He turned his chair, fixing you with a knowing look. “It took me a long time to accept what happened to me, I thought I had to prove I wasn’t broken beyond repair. But the Bad Batch…” he sighed, struggling to form his thoughts into words. “They accepted me for who I was even after all the changes. And they want to do the same for you.”

Echo had accurately read between the lines of your simple question. Blinking furiously to quell the emotion that rose, hating how much you resonated with what he said.

Hemlock had controlled you, used the enhancements he forced upon you. Your body was still your own compared to Echo’s, but the changes you had been through were no less severe. It brought you back to Crosshair’s words the other day, use what he has given you, against him.

Echo continued, clearly not expecting you to say anything. “Of course, having my attention split so often means I am prone to headaches.”

“You have one right now,” you mumbled, sniffing a little against the tears that still wanted to fall.

Echo shrugged. “Ah, I’m used to it.” Driven by instinct, you leaned across the gap to take Echo’s hand. The pain was a heated throb by his temple, latched deeply enough in his mind so you had to expend a little energy digging it out. Echo frowned, his mouth open to ask what you were doing, when the lines on his face smoothed out. “What was that?”

“Me, using my enhancement for something good.” Understanding passed silently between you, only broken by the thud of shovels and the clomp of snowy feet.

Omega squealed when a snowball flew into the cockpit, just missing your face. You dropped Echo’s hand in surprise and looked through the hatch. Wrecker was balling up another projectile, Tech was holding the Imperial datapad, barely sparing the troublesome duo a glance. Crosshair and Hunter were still outside, with Batcher running between them and the excitement of the snowball fight.

“No Wrecker!” Echo bellowed, shooting out of his chair when he saw the size of the snowball the big clone was creating.

“Aw! Come on Killjoy!”

“Hey! I never liked that nickname…” you stifled a giggle, watching them argue over something so simple as a snowball. Well, it looked like Wrecker wanted to throw the equivalent of a whole snowman. He grumpily grunted at Echo and dropped the hefty ball of snow while Omega stuck out her tongue and teased Wrecker from inside the ship.

If only you could bottle up this feeling, the fleeting moments where you felt you really belonged.

You needed it to chase away the lingering dark that filled the deepest corners of your soul.

[quietwingsinthesky]

as usual, i am obligated to give you a dealer's choice. feel free to skip if you need a break or your headache is too bad <3 your health comes first

o7 don't worry about me. took a little longer this time around, but here we are, all prompts finished :3 and my present to myself with yours is to write h/c for the doctor having a meltdown.

Before the Doctor can even ask to get one from his TARDIS, Donna already has a weighted blanket to drape over him. He nods thanks; It'll be a minute before he can get his words back together. "Do you want some ice for your head?" He nods again. It aches from where he was hitting it a few minutes earlier, something that seemed like a fantastic idea to ground himself in the moment and he was now paying the price for. "And remind me to buy you some bubblewrap for next time it happens."

The Doctor tosses Donna a tired but curious look at she presses ice wrapped up in a towel against the side of his head. He wriggles a hand out from under the blanket to hold it there. She sits next to him, close but not touching.

"Rose has meltdowns. That's her blanket. When she was younger, she used to do the same thing when she was overwhelmed that you do, start hitting herself." Donna grimaces suddenly. "People used to ask if I was scared of her. Scared! Of my daughter! And I'd let them have it, believe me, because don't you think she's the one that's scared when she's-" Her voice ramps up. The Doctor leans into her, and she stops, taking a breath. "But the bubblewrap was an idea Shaun had. We gave her that to hit instead, and it helped. She says it's… something about feeling it pop and focusing on the impact of it." The Doctor tucks his chin on her shoulder and hums, agreeing. That could work. It's worth a try.

He wonders, vaguely, if the other Doctor already has rolls of bubblewrap on his TARDIS to pop when he's out of it. If this is all part of the process.

"Good?" Donna asks, and she hovers her arm around his shoulders. He nods. The weight of it is as grounding as the blanket.

[giggly-squiggily]

*hops onto your back to whisper tenderly into your ear*

obanai trained kaburamaru to do sneak attacks on the other hashira during tickle fights and sanemi falls victim to these sneake attacks (see what i did there) all the time because be won't button his fucking shirt so kaburamaru can just easily slither in and do his thing

*gives you a kiss on the head to apologize for swearing in your divine presence and uses your shoulders as a starting ramp to jump away like a frog*

*face plants the mud upon frog jump WHAT- 🤨 Hmm…I’ll allow it 🥰

BQNSNNWNSNS HELP! He does it to Sanemi All. The. Time. Especially when said Wind Hashira is being #Extra and it’s giving him a headache. Originally he did it to Tengen cause he’s a little shit but after he realized just how much of an effective tickle tactic it is on Sanemi he turns all his attention onto him!

Like- Obanai’s in the tree for “safety reasons” watching Sanemi and Tengen team up on people (Rengoku and Giyu to be exact) and he’s just snickering along with it until he sees Sanemi turn his attention to Mitsuri. Will Sanemi get her next? Not likely- she’ll have him destroyed in minutes- but Obanai’s like: “Oh no!” And releases Kaburamaru onto him all sneaky like “Go, do your thing…”

Sanemi’s all “Get ready to di-ehehehehhehahahahah! Nohohoho gehehehet ouhuhuhout!” His intimidation completely disappears as he falls over, trying and failing to catch the little bugger while Tengen laughs at him from five feet away cause he’s not getting near that thing. Giyu’s half dead on the floor and Mitsuri’s all heart eyes over the whole affair cause of course she is whsnwnsnwn

Honorable mentions to Kaburamaru wrapping around Shinobu’s shoulders and nuzzling her ears and neck when she’s overworking herself (yes I know she doesn’t like animals but like- if they have fur she doesn’t vibe. Snakes are fine.) And Rengoku cause the man is a walking furnace and snakes vibe with that I think, so if Kaburamaru isn’t with Obanai and Rengoku’s particularly giggly that’s where he is.

*watches you leap away with little shinobu claps* There she goes! :D