#i need to stop only drawing fanart for one thing that i like
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There’s no fucking way I got into school mandated classic lit yaoi again why the fuck does this keep happening……
[Literally praying that we read page 222 in class I need to see everyone’s reaction to that.
Also, Bromden is literally me. Bro will start talkin about his paranoid delusions and how the Shadow Government is controlling him and I’ll be like “ONG TWIN 🫡🫡🫡”
That may or may not have some implications on my current mental health status.
ALSO also, I finally changed my signature. I no longer want to be associated with the same thing I used to mark the yaoi hentai I drew in middle school. That ain’t me. I’m a changed man. Like hell I’ll ever find it again but the important thing is that I’m moving on.
#one flew over the cuckoo's nest#ofotcn#idk how else yall tag this#rp mcmurphy#r.p mcmurphy#randle p mcmurphy#idk what his middle name is lmao#chief bromden#does unc have a first name#like do we ever learn it#stop tryna be MYSTERIOUS bro I need to STACK UP ON LORE 🙄🙄🙄#bromc#asylumshipping#that’s what I’ve been callin this#if there’s another ship name just slide it my way#I’m gettin desperate here#there’s like two people who make fanart and only 25 fics on AO3#and at least two of them aren’t in English#please chat it’s so cold and lonely here please#ACs art tag#R definitely said somethin like#‘I……think we should go to sleep now’#and then they never talk about it again#or they start makin out sloppy style idk#my B doesn’t have a mouth tho so idk how that’ll work#I’ve actually been contemplating that but for any blank featured characters I draw in general#like it’s a thematic thing they don’t DON’T have a mouth it’s a metaphor#but also how#y’know??
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Updating mine
MY TOP TEN FAVORITE JJK SHIPPS!!!!
10. SHOKOHIME
They stole Jogo and Hanami's place because I got it into my head that Jogo is like the grumpy grandfather and Hanai is the vegan aunt of the curse family! I like them. I think it's a ship with a lot of potential. I need to consume more content, but I love the fanarts!!!
9. HIGUNANA
This crack grew in me and now I'm suffering for them after the last chapter. In a kind universe, Higuruma and Nanami adopted Yuji and they live happily and happily!!! I think the two go together a lot and the fanfics are adorable! These Old Yaoi will be the death of me!!!!
8. CHOSOYUKI
They've come down a little, but man I still love them!!! Even more so now because my thirst for Choso awakened and I started reading fanfics of him being a good big brother and I fell to my knees! I still want to write more and explore his relationship with Yuji. And God, YUKI IS AMAZING!!!! THEY DESERVED TO STAY TOGETHER, AKUTAMI YOU DAMN IT!!!!
7. HIGUKUSA
A friend on twt is feeding me higukusa art and, god, this crack (not so crack, because that "I'll protect you even if I have to die for it" from kusakabe hit me hard) has taken root in my heart! I'm also obsessed with Higuruma, so I combined the useful with the pleasant!
6. INUOKKO
THEY ARE CUTE OKAY!!!! I AM OBSESSED WITH CREATING HCS FOR THEM!!! I don't consume much of their stuff, but all the fanart I've seen is cute and their participation in the itafushi fics I read is always welcome!!! It's kind of strange to read something where they're not together…
5. NOBAMAKI
MY OPINION HAS NOT CHANGED, OKAY??? NOBAMAKI IS WONDERFUL AND I WOULD KILL TO HAVE MORE OF THEM!!! But since I saw Nobara's flashback I've been wondering if Fumi wouldn't be a good ship too? Does anyone have a fanfic/fanart of him, by the way??? ANYWAY, NOBAMAKI IS STILL MY FAVORITE!!!
4. KIRAKARI
I'M IN LOVE WITH KIRARA!!!! SHE AND HAKARI ARE THE ONLY HEALTHY THINGS IN THIS MISERABLE MANGA!!!! I love imagining what their relationship is like, writing hcs slice to life minis and drawing Kirara! But I'm getting worried because I saw someone saying that Kirara could appear in the Hakari x Urame fight to help her boyfriend and I know what's going to happen and I don't want it to happen! GEGE GET THESE DIRTY CLAWS AWAY FROM MY BABIES!!!!
3. SATOSUGU
YOU RUINED BLACK AND WHITE FOR ME, YOU DEPRESSED BITCHES!!! My friend is obsessed with them and boy can I understand! These two are tragic, with a beautiful dynamic and a happy ending(?). Plus they fucked up my Christmas Eve. I hope these two bitches are causing terror in heaven!
2. ITAFUSHI!!!!
If you've known me for more than a second, you'll know that I have an average of five outbreaks a day because of these two. This whole thing about always trying to save others even if it condemns them destroys me, okay??? Fanfics and fanarts also feed me! And I'm going to convince all my friends to ship this too so I can yell at 2am at them about little details of their dynamic! AND THEY MATCH SO MUCH!!! Of course, no more than our first place!!!!
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EVERYONE X THERAPY!!!
Please let the deaths stop and this become canon
Honorable mention for _ Tojikuna (more because a twt artist is obsessed with them and that rubbed off on me) _ Hainana _ Toji x Mamagumi _ Okkofushi (Yuta was Megumi's first crush and you can't get that out of my head) _ Uraume x Sukuna (one-sided) _ Yuta x Maki
#First place is what needs to happen the most!#like#I really want this to happen#two weeks without an episode and I'm freaking out already#itafushi#fushiita#satosugu#nobamaki#inuokko#shokohime#higukusa#higunana#chosoyuki#kirakari
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Coli!! Hi hi good morning!! Do you have any Headcanons for Ruggie?? Like, when you draw him do you have anything you always include or leave out? Just curious hehe I love your art!! Have a nice day <3 <3 <3
Hi Dede! Thanks for the ask🥺😭💗
I will comment on what I would like to do differently when I draw him cause for me you write him PERFECT and I wouldn't change anything! This guy is precious and needs love to know he isn't inferior to anyone! 😭💗
⚠️ My headcanons (design) Ruggie Bucchi:
So, aren't that many changes, it's just simple, the way I usually imagine him 🥺👉👈
🍩 Skin: Ruggie has more melanin, I personally love Ruggie with any skin tone but forgive me Yana but it's hard to resist painting his skin like that.
I mean, I think it goes much better with his color palette. Personally, I would paint with this palette for him in my fanart and content forever. I want to eternally thank whoever had the idea of giving more melanin to his plush 🥺💗 I don't know if it's my laptop screen that's old, but it looks a little desaturated, but I'll adjust over time.
🍩 Blonde lashes: I still need to practice more cause I love the idea that Ruggie would have some blonde lashes, not gold and flashy but brown light 🥺
🍩 Freckles: Excessive on the nose/cheeks, ends of the arms, and a lot on the back…IT'S CANON IN MY HEAD, YANA YOU FAILED ME, HOW YOU DARE?? HOW CAN YOU NOT GIVE HIM FRECKLES?😭
🍩 Body hair: Well, he's a guy who's growing, he's about to turn 18, there's no chance no have body hair. Besides, I believe that beastmen have more body hair than humans, so for Ruggie I imagine golden hair but if it gets wet it turns a little brown, on the arms and legs 😔👉👈
🍩 Eye pupil: I know that's normal but I like to think that his pupil becomes ''thin'' (how in English is this?) when he feels threatened or annoyed by something and dilates when he sees something that interests/likes him.
🍩 Teeth: Bigger and thicker than Leona and Jack. Please, spotted hyenas have a bone-breaking bite and tear thick skins too. Ruggie canonically said he can easily eat steak with bones…Oh gosh if he likes bite who he lov- STOP NICOLI SHHHH
🍩 Hair: A little rough and messy with some split ends, I don't think he cares much about any special shampoo or conditioner, taking care of his hair. Besides, I think he occasionally cuts it with scissors on his own. I know I could leave it wavy or curly but thinking that rough bristles remind me of hyenas' fur makes me so 🥺
🍩 Body: We know that Ruggie's thin cause his condition but I believe that his legs and arms are ''strong'' of cause the acrobatic way in which he moves, both day to day, running and practicing at the Club. I don't mean bulging muscles but you realize that given his activities and abilities it makes sense!!! 😔
🍩 About the piercing: it was a detail I wanted to add but I don't know if I always imagine him with that or not 🤡👌
Forgive my grammar and English mistakes! These are my humble headcanons for Ruggie's design, if anyone thinks differently this is just fun for everyone, y'all have the right to imagine how they want. And I would like to say one more thing, about other details that I can only talk about better with more drawings, such as excess hair with spots above his tail (I love this detail too). So there will always be changes for everything!
Thank you again for your ask Dede, you're a wonderful writer that I admire so much and love your works! 🥺😭💗💗💗
#my headcanons for Ruggie bucchi#personal#twst ruggie#ruggie bucchi#twst savanaclaw#twst fanart#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#savanaclaw#my art
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The Draw of the Hetalia Fandom (and Why You Can Never Leave)
From the perspective of a fan of (technically) twelve years or so.
Something occurred to me a while back, and I wanted to share it to get other people's thoughts. I'll try to add funny pictures and gifs to break up the wall of text so it won't be as exhausting to read.
I made a post the other day about how the Hetalia fandom always draws you back in. This was, of course, based on the joke about how you can never really leave the Hetalia fandom. A joke you can find virtually everywhere you look in fan spaces online.
But this begs the question. Why? Why can't you ever truly leave the Hetalia fandom? What is it about this fandom that consistently draws you back in?
And note that people don't talk about Hetalia itself, but rather its fandom. You could stop watching the show or reading the comics for years, but the fandom is what won't fully leave you be.
(The Hetalia fandom every time you check to see if it's dead yet).
One answer I've heard has to do with the phenomenon known as Associative Memory, where you can learn and remember the relationship between unrelated items.
For example, you watch Hetalia, a series about the countries of the world personified as anime characters. These characters have their own personalities, traits, quirks, etc. And the more you watch the show and get into the fandom, the more you start to associate these things with one another.
For instance, someone can say the word Italy, and I'll start thinking about Feliciano Vargas. Or someone could say the name Matthew Williams, and I automatically associate that with Canada. Or I could see bushy eyebrows and immediately start thinking of APH England. Heck, someone starts talking about Vikings and my thoughts almost always go to the Viking Trio of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. I could go on, but you get the idea.
And there's also the fact that we live in a world full of the countries that the show has personified characters of, which would in turn likely remind you of Hetalia.
But there's something more here going on. I've thought about it for a long while, and I think I've realized one of the biggest reasons why you can't fully leave the fandom.
It's because of how versatile the characters of the series can be in fan content. Allow me to explain.
(Me preparing to explain to everyone the epiphany that came to me one dark, stormy night).
Hetalia is a series with literally no plot. Like, zero. Some episodes may impact each other, but the overall series is episodic in nature. The only episodes you'd have to watch in order would be the ones going over the miniature love story between Chibitalia and HRE. And then there's the sequence of episodes going over the Industrial Revolution in season seven, and then the sequence of episodes explaining the relationship between Czechia and Slovakia. But that's it. And the Industrial Revolution and Czechia and Slovakia episodes aired in the latter seasons, long after the fandom was already very big and well established.
The episodes are largely adaptations from the original webcomic and thus are all a bunch of skits haphazardly thrown together. So I'll reiterate what I said earlier; there is no real, canonical plot to Hetalia. There are canon events and facts about canon characters, but seeing as the show is largely skits, they aren't tied down to any real narrative.
(The Hetalia fandom whenever they're given a piece of canon they don't like).
This leaves a lot of room for headcanons. Which leads to fans sharing their headcanons online. And when headcanons get super popular, they become fanon. And when a piece of fanon gets super popular, where it finds itself getting mingled with fanart, fanfiction, and even fan theories, you'll have people who start to confuse it with actual canon. There's really a lot to be said for the wild fanon of Hetalia, but I'll get to that another day. I need to turn the focus back onto the characters themselves.
I'm just gonna put it out there. The Hetalia characters are largely one-note. This isn't to say there isn't some depth to a few of the characters, but these characters are largely the epitome of "what you see is what you get." Especially in the early days of the series. The characters all have a set of straightforward, basic character traits, with their interpersonal relationships often being displayed in a very simplistic manner.
For example, Italy is a pasta-loving coward who's a massive flirt. Germany is strict and authoritative with a no-nonsense attitude. Japan is quiet and soft-spoken, only speaking up when he feels the need. America is a bombastic dork with a hero complex. England is an arrogant stick in the mud. France is a hopeless romantic who flirts with anything that has a pulse.
(Me taking a moment to pause and push away the cringy middle school memories of me shamelessly fangirling in class).
And as I said, their relationships are typically portrayed as simplistic as well. Italy annoys Germany, but Germany doesn't want to get rid of him because he's one of his only friends. England and France hate each other. America is that hyper-extroverted friend trying to get his introverted friend, Japan, out of his shell. Switzerland and Lichtenstein have a sweet sibling dynamic. And Prussia and Austria are portrayed as old friends who like to antagonize one another.
Because of the way the characters and their interpersonal relationships are written, this also lends them open to a lot of headcanons and eventual fanon. Not to mention that most of the characters have canon, human names. So if you want to use these characters in a fanfiction, particularly one where you don't want to depict them as countries (which is most fanfics), you have names at the ready that you can use.
And because of the simple way the characters are written, you can potentially write or portray these characters however you want in fanwork without too many people complaining that someone "isn't in character." There is so much room for your own interpretations of the characters. As long as you keep some of their basic personality traits from the series intact, you can portray the characters however you want. Especially because there's no real canonical storyline to drag them down. Because of the lack of canon storyline, you don't have to worry about fanworks being canon-compliant, canon-divergent, or canon-adjacent.
(Fanfic writers when they realize canon cannot stop them from creating whatever they want).
Do you want to portray Romano as the notorious mafia boss, Lovino Vargas, in the 1930s? Go ahead. As long as you can keep some of his cowardly and stubborn nature intact, you can do what you want with little trouble.
Do you want to portray England as the infamous pirate, Arthur Kirkland, in the 17th century? As long as you maintain his disdain for France, have at it!
Do you want to write a college AU with all of the characters present? As long as you keep in mind their personalities and have a basic understanding of their interpersonal relationships, have fun!
Now you're probably sitting there thinking, "Big deal, people can create all kinds of fanwork, regardless of what its content is, or what property it's for. What makes the Hetalia fandom so special?"
It's special because, since Hetalia is a series with almost zero canonical storylines, and the characters are portrayed in such a simplistic way, both of which lend their way to boatloads of headcanons and fanon, as well as small scraps of canon information that we can choose to either ignore or elaborate like crazy on...
Hetalia is a freaking goldmine for creating all kinds of fan content.
(Hetalians when creating the 2p! variations of the characters, probably).
So much fan content is out there. From creepypastas, to Hetaoni, Dreamtalia, the 2p! characters, historically accurate AU's, school AU's, and so, so much more. All because the canon is just loose enough to allow all kinds of fan content to be created and not seem too far off from the series or characters.
And that fan content ends up being way, way more fun than the actual series itself! Don't get me wrong, I still love the show, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't (or currently don't) have a freaking blast every time I engage with fan content. The creativity is insane, and the fanon is even more fun and entertaining.
The reason you cannot fully leave the Hetalia fandom isn't just because of Associative Memory, but because of the immense amount of fan content and fanon where, because of the nature of the series, you can do, write, draw, and create whatever you want. You can project onto these characters and their stories and interpret them to your own personal tastes. And you know what? That's a heck of a lot of fun.
And there you go, that's my two cents.
#hetalia#aph#hetalia axis powes#hetalia fandom#aph fandom#hetalia fan#aph fan#hws#hetalia world series#hetalia the beautiful world#hetalia the world twinkle#hetalia world stars
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ppl who follow me are tired of me saying this, but if i could address the aa fandom directly... i rly would just ask that people like, stop being mean about dd and soj. like thats all i want.
im not even IN the fandom anymore, so i have no reach. i draw fanart and make my little ship posts but thats all. and thats bc the wider fandom ... is so fucking mean sometimes. omg. like its just not fun!!
but really, specifically, its about the dd and soj thing. the "play ace attorney we have so many games and [MOST OF THEM] are good!" thing. like, its fine if you dont LIKE dd and soj, obviously!! im not saying you HAVE to!
but "i dont like these games" and "these games are objectively bad and no one likes them" are entirely different statements.
plenty of people like dd and soj, even have them as their favorite games. i know this bc my soj fanart gets notes 😭 i have ppl in my tags excited and happy when i draw dhurke and datz. bc we like these characters!! and like to think about them and the story they come from!
...just bc YOU dont like soj, doesnt mean a lot of ppl dont like soj! so i really dont understand the drive to constantly talk down and insult these games?! like ... why be negative. u could be nicer. its possible and easy and then doesnt drive ppl away from the fandom bc their favorite games are being trashtalked all the time.
a lot of ppl find the space family dd interesting! they LIKE the phantom and his concept as a character! they LIKE soj and all of the political settings! it doesnt rly matter that they are, by and large, A Little Flop, bc people still LIKE them and like making content for them and thinking abt them and playing in the space and...!! like. why hate that? why constantly put us down for enjoying smth you didnt?
just dont need to constantly make slights at how "bad" and supposedly unenjoyable dd and soj are. cus not only is it mean, and makes the fandom hostile, but its literally untrue. i dont even consider myself in the fandom anymore bc all the fun is taken out of it when i have to brace myself for shitty comments like this whenever i read a post abt the series!
and i rly wish i could just Not Care what other ppl say. a lot of my friends dont care. but soj is like.....ive spent the past 5 years loving that stupid ass mediocre game. like its deeply important to me. and i just feel like a lot of ppl would have some fun with it if they werent constantly told how bad and skippable it is. im sure dd fans feel the same way.
its very cliquey. its very "the popular opinion is correct and if you dont agree, you dont get to play with us". it just sucksssss
#ace attorney#spirit of justice#dual destinies#like again im sure this will flop too#but if i can at least convince One Person to be a little nicer abt these games#OR JUST. NEUTRAL? LIKE JUST DONT BE MEAN THTS ALL I ASK#then ill be happy#its all crazy cus to me ace attorney is a very unserious mediocre series#the first game is tight but even then most ppl hate 1-3 or 1-5 and think theyre boring#so idk why dd and soj are the black sheep when their crimes are NOT unique to their games lol#just uplift the entire series! its easy!#Idk or maybe im the crazy one.#i wouldnt rly know how the wider fandom is cus again im not IN it cus you guys are mean af sometimes!!!!#i sit in my little bubble of ppl who appreciate datz are'bal Amen!
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My drawing skills suck are very unpracticed but I have a mighty need to create fanart of the garbage tarot. I don't even know anything about the source material but I am in love with these idiots.
Actually... I do a lot more mixed-media than I do drawing........... Hmm...
As a Completely Unrelated Thought, what do you think Zaraki's handwriting would look like?
I'm glad you asked because there's na specific answer for AEIWAM fic! Zaraki!
(Note: in AEIWAM, Kakiyo was Tousen's adopted sister, not an unrequited crush, and she raised money to go to the academy by working as a travelling schoolteacher for a while)
---
The first time Yamamoto gets a report from Zaraki, it genuinely throws him for a loop. Its a thorough if somewhat gruesome report about the 11th dealing with a pack of hollows that had been attacking isolated villages. Nothing Yamamoto was not already used to, but reading descriptions of mutilated villagers is somehow more unsettling when the descriptions look like this:
(a stylistic example)
Yamamoto takes him to task next meeting.
(continued under the cut)
"I know you're still learning the job Zaraki, but you can't foist your paperwork off on Miss Kusajishi." Yamamoto growls.
"I... Didn't? What?" Zaraki looks extremely confused, but the Captain-General is not fooled.
"You mean to tell me THIS is your handwriting?" Yamamoto snaps, throwing the report on the table, sheets spilling out as it slid down the length of it, so everyone could see the bizarre cutesy hand it was written in.
Zaraki's face darkened, jaw clenched. "Yeah. What about it? You goin' blind as well as senile?" He growled.
"THIS IS THE HANDWRITING OF A LITTLE GIRL, ZARAKI, DO YOU HAVE THE SAME HANDWRITING AS YOUR DAUGHTER?" Yamamoto slammed his hand on the table, temperature sharply increasing around him.
Zaraki began to arch his back and crackle with Reiatsu as well, but was stopped by loud ringing chime and a hand on his arm.
Yamamoto blinked in surprise to see Tousen, of all people , holding the giant back. There was a click as Tousen fully re-sheathed his sword. Suzumushi's chime wouldn't effect either of them, but it redirected their attention very effectively.
"My apologies, Yamamoto-sama." He bowed his head before turning his ear up at Zaraki. "Kakiyo wrote about this to me. You could only afford for one of you to receive schooling, right?"
Zaraki huffed and shook himself before answering. "Yeah, I was a broke-ass bastard before this." He grumbled, scratching his neck in a de-escalation feature. "Yer sister was a fuckin' saint and a genius. Neither of you have any business tellin' the whole world though."
"I think it was an exceptionally brave and difficult thing you did." Tousen shrugged. "Even when she used that method, less than one in a hundred parents actually stuck to it, much less achieved what you have."
Zaraki started looking everywhere but at Tousen, thinking. "... wouldn't call it brave, it was just makin' sure she was doin' good in school." He muttered.
Tousen kept listening intently at Zaraki. May I tell Yamamoto-sama so he doesn't cause another scene?"
"You're going to tell me what you're muttering about whether you like it or not." Yamamoto menaced.
"My sister taught Zaraki-taicho and Miss Kusajishi how to read and write." Kaname sighed and took off his goggles to rub the bridge of his nose. "It's extremely common in the Rukongai to have to teach children whose parents have never had any kind of schooling. Many of the parents would like to go to school too, but can only afford to send their children- actually , usually only one child. It's not usually an issue of money, but time- the parents can't afford to miss fishing season, or spare any siblings because they're needed on the farm. But, when you have a parent who is as attentive and caring as Zaraki-"
"Tttch!" Zaraki huffed at Kaname, who pointedly ignored him.
"-You can get around the schooling fees and scheduling problems by telling the student that their homework is to teach their parents what they learned in school that day. The homework you give the students is for their parents to do after they pass the lesson on and grade them on how well they taught their family." Kaname explained, putting his goggles back on. "Kakiyo was in awe of Miss Kusajishi's dedication to teaching you, and immensely proud of your efforts."
Zaraki still refused to look at Tousen, but his ears were bright red.
"...ohhh." Ukitake realized. "Wow, that's... I thought it was impossible to learn how after a certain age, that's - well, I don't think it's something I could have done!"
"What?" Glared Yamamoto.
"Zaraki-taicho and Miss Kusajishi have the same handwriting because he learned how to read and write by learning her school lessons from her." Unohana translated. "-An exceptionally difficult way to learn, and commendable for even trying." She continued, arching an eyebrow at him as a warning.
"Yeah and with all due respect Yama-ji? You're not exactly in a position to be complaining about anyone else's handwriting-" added Shunsui. "Zaraki's handwriting is odd, but it's perfectly legible. Nanao-chan framed your last memo because she thought it was an abstract painting."
Yamamoto turned to Shunsui with an aggravated glare.
"I'm afraid I have to second Kyoraku-taicho." Tousen said, without an ounce of chagrin in his voice. "The kido spell on my glasses can translate nearly everyone's hand, but the only person in the ninth who can read your memos to me is third-seat Maegawa, and mostly because she's had several centuries practice."
"Wait, we were supposed to be getting memos?" Mayuri squawked. "Dammit! I thought that squiggly garbage was the fax machine breaking every other week! I disassembled that thing three times trying to fix it!"
"You can all shut up now." Yamamoto snarled, and everyone did, but there were still a lot of pointed looks around the table, and Unohana's eyebrow had not resumed it's usual curvature yet. "Please consider my complaint withdrawn."
Unohana's eyebrow arched further and she cracked her eye open to reveal a coal-black iris, going from Warning to Threat.
"...My apologies, Zaraki-taicho. That was. Inconsiderate of me." Yamamoto muttered.
"Ya gonna shut up about it now?" Zaraki asked, not quite facing Yamamoto, but back still arched.
"I will hold my judgment in check in the future." Yamamoto acquiesced, watching him.
"Sure." Zaraki grunted, shaking his shoulders to drop the subject. "Right, what the fuck were we doing?" He asked, returning to the agenda.
---
After the meeting, Tousen took a minute to stand in the late afternoon sun, exhaling and releasing the tension of the day, when someone grabbed one shoulder and plopped something heavy on the other.
"Yeh didn't have to do that." Zaraki grunted just behind Tousen's ear, his forehead resting on the small man's shoulder, half gratitude, half grumble.
"One of the responsibilities of a captain is to keep the general in check, and I had a particularly good opening to stop that nonsense for good." Kaname hummed, hand reflexively coming up to touch the giant's head on his shoulder, fingertips tracing over the scarred visage and peculiar hairstyle.
"Didn't read that in the employee handbook." Zaraki grunted, grin in his voice.
"Yamamoto wrote those handbooks, and he'd rather we let him do as he pleases. You have to learn how to read between the lines, Zaraki." Kaname teased.
Zaraki gave his strange, low clicking chuckle of amusement and affectionately mock-bit Kaname's ear before standing up, still holding his other shoulder.
"...Thanks. " he muttered, giving his arm a squeeze and stepping away. "Gotta go pick up Sensei, you talk to her if you think I need more tutoring!" Zaraki waved, striding off to collect Yachiru in completely the opposite direction from her school.
"ITS THE OTHER- oh, he'll figure it out." Kaname sighed.
The sun was low in the sky, but it was still warm, and the first Cricket of summer started chirping, startling him. Suzumushi chirped with it, singing her mournful loss of her original wielder, but not so despairing this time.
"Kaname?" Sajin asked, heard before he was felt as usual. The lieutenant's meeting must have wrapped up late.
Kaname smiled and put a finger up, indicating he should listen. Sajin did, helmet tipping slightly to hear.
"Crickets!" Sajin realized, and offered Kaname his gauntlets hand to lead him home. "...I miss Kakiyo too." He sighed.
"You're not really gone if some part of you lives on in someone else." Kaname hummed. "I realized she is not so far gone today."
"Oh?" Sajin asked. "Where does she live on?"
"Have you read any of Zaraki-taocho's reports yet?" Kaname grinned. "His hand is not his hand alone."
#Bleach#Bleach Fanfic#AEIWAM#an elephant is warm and mushy#kenpachi zaraki#kaname tosen#kaname tousen#genryusai shigekuni yamamoto#long post under the cut#its cute
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Hoi there!
You are so talented and creative. I love your art so much, the style is adorable ^^
I do have a few questions, as one creator to another. I don't post at the moment, but I do love making art, especially for my fanfic/original projects.
Can you tell me how you do it? Like how can you stay motivated and be able to post almost every day?
Any tips maybe on how to deal with artblocks and burnouts?
How do you pratice certain art styles and be able to do them accurately?
1. It’s because I really really REALLY like what I’m drawing right now. (gay monkies). Plus I have- an endgame lets say. I have a clear ending for my comics and reaching that point is what keeps me going, but I also ONLY draw what I want to draw, not EVERYTHING that needs to be shown for the endgame. This actually helped me go throught my ISAT AU comic.
It’s like- narrating a roadtrip. The ending is your destination, you can’t wait to arrive there, but first you know there’s a long road ahead. But you don’t actually need to describe/draw every single town / city / landscape to go there. Not every single kilometer of a roadtrip is a mouth-dropping view.
That’s why you can just-skip it. Stay 4 chapter at one diner if you like the set, focus a chapter on the protagonists looking at the stars, start a scene somewhere completely different, completely skip 30% of the road. As long as you can imply with details what was in between, you don’t need to show/write it in details if you feel it would be hard to make interesting, or just not your thing.
Also if you start to grow an audience and people ask you to draw/write certain things that you don’t feel like to, or just feel like they are extras, don’t do it.
Not because you can’t, but the MOMENT something that you create starts to feel like you are doing it for the audience, then you are not actually doing something yours, and from then on it’s gonna be harder and harder to do things. Like, I have hundreds of fanarts that I did on my IG that were mostly directed to my audience, and not something that I just did because of fun.
All of this is also- answering to your second question - for not burning out. All of this is for keeping your passion up. I’m not talking about mental or physical energy. You could be dead tired (like I am many times) but still be fueled do draw for hours. Because you’re drawing only exactly what you want.
It took me 4 years to understand. I used to do this in high school. Draw something just for the hell of it. It was harder back then, because drawing was hard. I arrived to a point where drawing is much easier (also cause I draw almost everyday for 6/8 hours.) and after I was healed from my broken arm this july, it became my drug. I understood I can’t live without drawing what’s in my head, and that (unless it’s specifically for work) I don’t wanna draw something that’s not only what I want.
I want you to arrive to the point that your drawings / fanfictions are so much exactly what you envisioned /wanted that you fangirl about them. That you read/watch them and squeak in delight. Because even if no one likes them, you must be crazy about them.
(I’ll make a post about this in the future, because it literally changed how I draw after years and it brought back my passion for art after 10 years, but rn it’s a little late and I wanna draw my LMK au so I’ll stop now)
3. I keep some reference to look at every now and then. I also draw a L O T. ( a ton shit of things that I draw are not posted anywhere bc of work)
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my favorite kind of grumbo is mumbo growing wings after stealing grian’s soul. make it as angsty or fluffy as you wish :)
Wait okay that's a cute idea, In my mind Grians wings are from being a watcher and not from the whole Parrott thing canonically. (They're fun to draw in fanart though) It's just how I think so. So anyways here's Mumbo freaking the fuck out.
(DISCLAIMER: I'm not writing about the real people and only the minecraft personas they portray on the screen)
When two souls become intertwined, there's not much you can do to stop what comes next. Especially when someone takes a soul to protect. All he wanted was to keep Grian safe. He didn't want this to happen.
The tall mustached man gazes into the mirror, at the small purple and gray wings beginning to spout from the base of his back.
"This cannot be happening," He mutters to himself. He decides he needs Grian here because he'd dealt with this before.
He picks up his phone and dials Grians number stressing out, it rings for a fre seconds before Grian picks up. "Hii Mumbo," He says in his usual chirpy voice.
"Grian." Mumbo pauses for a moment, "I need you here right now." Hes going to have a panic attack. His back aches from the sprouting feathers.
"Okay, I'm coming. What's wrong?" Grian says slowly trying to calm Mumbo down over the phone.
"You'll have to see, I'll see you in a minute." Mumbo hangs up the phone. Going back to look in the mirror, he does a little spin, still trying to take this in.
He hears a knock on the door and rushes to go get it still shirtless. He opens the door to a very worried looking Grian. "Mumbo? Are you okay? Why are you shirtless."
He grabbed Grian by the hand. "Just.. come in. " He pulls him in and then shuts the door behind him. "Grian, I-." He pauses and then turns around. "Grian, I'm growing wings like you." He looks back at the smaller.
Grians face drops. "I didn't know that could happen." He whispers almost to himself.
"Ugh, Grian, this is all your fault!" Mumbo still in apparent distress just starts yelling, it scared Grian he wasn't used to Mumbo acting like this.
"My fault!?" Grian yells back, and then he stops, "How is this my fault?" He looks hurt of all people to blame Grian should be the last.
Honestly, Grian had no idea the watchers would even want Mumbo as one of them. Unless... they don't know yet. That's impossible though, they're know, all see all.
Mumbo stops in his tracks, "You're right. This isn't your fault" He pauses and then puts a hand on Grians shoulder, "I'm sorry."
"No, Mumbo, it's okay. You're clearly stressed." Grian smiles up wrapping Mumbo into a hug.
"How do I fix this?" Mumbo whispers into Grians hair almost teary eyed.
Grian sighed, "You can't. I'm sorry. I can help you embrace it, though?" Grian says, reaching for the wings. He places his hand on them delicately.
Mumbo nods as Grian pets the small pretty feathers. "They look good on you."
He pulls Mumbo out of the hug and smiles at him. He knew the watchers would want him soon, Grian wouldn't let him go through what he had too. He'd keep Mumbo safe just as Mumbo was attempting to keep Grian safe.
They just care about each other too much for their own good. It's like nothing else matters.
#hermitcraft#grumbo#grian tag#grian x mumbo#hc mumbo#mumbo jumbo#grian#grumbo fanfic#holy shit#i really like this idea#i like mental breakdown Mumbo#i hope you like this!#mumbo kills a lot jumbo#watcher lore#fanficton#azurite writes
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...how did Uzi die in your Ghost Drone AU?
Oh my god. I never thought anyone would ask. I usually have thirty five facts about my AUs, and no one ever asks. This is going to be a simplified version, and I’m sorry if I sound insensitive about this.
Basically, some time after N and Uzi's wedding (probably around the same time they decided Let's Be Parents), Uzi got sick. Like, unusually sick for a drone.
Eventually, when she started coughing up red stuff and made things implode or melt with her powers whenever she tried to use them, they (which does include V) realized that The Solver had something to do with it.
The trio spent a good few months trying to figure out a way to either get rid of It or stop whatever It was doing completely, only to turn up empty handed. In the end, as It made Its final efforts to to take over her body, Uzi came up with one last plan: she would be killed, and her core would be destroyed.
And seeing as they split off from V during this particular search... that only left N to do it. Unfortunately, his laser cannon suffered a rare freak malfunction right in the middle of their heartfelt goodbyes, and nearly took them both out.
Of course, the plan succeeded. The Solver failed to take over her body, and is now seemingly gone forever. But of course, as N woke up in the medical wing days after the incident, he discovered their daughter had recently been booted up... and now, he's seeing ghosts.
SPOILER ALERT, Uzi (eventually) becomes one of those ghosts.
Ghost Drone!Uzi's redesign was actually handled by my buddy, @adragonenjoyer! They wanted to draw fanart for the AU, so we kinda geeked out over how she should look, and lo and behold, we've got Bluzi (yes i made ghost drones blue specifically for that pun)!
She's a bit more special than regular ghost drones, seeing as they're usually just drones but cyan, blue and white. They don't usually reflect how they died... and parts of their bodies don't usually float around like that, either! Plus, she can occasionally interact with inanimate objects! Sadly, that does mean she can't touch N anymore... but it won't stop them from trying!!!
(she unfortunately takes a bit longer to "manifest" as a ghost drone, too. just needed to give n four years of raising their lil baby on his own and beating himself up for failing his wife before i gave him something good... like his wife back!)
#Zeisty's Askbox#murder drones#murder drones uzi#murder drones n#ghost drone au#murder drones nuzi#we did it we found the lil blue guy living in the blue world#tw major character death#tw trypophobia
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*rotates dbhc!Xisuma and Doc in my head*
I'm sorry but I absolutely lose my mind over them ( I have literally no one who I could ramble about this to and I need to get it out). I want to analyse stuff, so let me just:
*breathes in*
It's visible that they are good friends and have been since the time when Doc deviated, research partners doing... research? Or whatever researchers do *shrugs*.
But there's one thing to it, X created Doc and most of other androids. He understands what is deviation because Doc explained it to him but his friend is still an android after all. We also know that X always calls Doc "Docm" but in previous comic he calls him "Doc" and it is stated that it's the first time he ever called him that. In which moment he calls him that? In the moment when he realises that Doc is more human than android now, I may be delusional about this all but I just feel like: the moment when he sees Etho overpower Doc, shove him and break him and stuff, Xisuma sees that Doc isn't a fearless machine but a someone, a human, he got overpowered by Etho and suffered consequences, he felt fear like a human not a machine. Also he lost his arm because he was trying to stop Etho from hurting X as we see in the second part of the comic, which only adds to that. So, this is the moment where X fully realises that he means something to Doc, not as a creator, but as a friend, and that's why for the rest of the comic he constantly makes sure if his partner is alright by talking to him, glancing at him. You know stuff. He grew closer and closer to Doc as time passed and I think this was the climax - the moment he called Docm77 "Doc".
While Doc is doing the most stoic stuff ever and trying not to self destruct and stuff, he cares about X too, very much even, he's protective towards him and shows it by jumping into danger he could have avoided [ Etho attacked X because he's an admin and probably knows where's Grian - Etho wants to hunt down this pesky bird for killing Bdubs] just so his partner won't get hurt how sweet <3 RIP arm you will be remembered...
Anyways I feel like they should talk about stuff and maybe cuddle and maybe I don't know LIVE?? NOT DIE??
Yeah, I think that I don't even need to explain for how long they've been spinning in my head.
Also wanted to thank you so much for so many kind words on my fanart !! I'm glad I can make someone happy with my cheap, old drawing tablet and some self taught skills lol sorry for flooding your ask-box again so so sorry but those comics make me go AWOOGA holy shift, and also DOC AND X CONTENT !! They are so underrated that you almost can't find anything good relating to them as a duo! [personally I think they're great, just two dudes that do things together and care for eachother <3]
So, yep. Prepare yourself for things like that after every new part comes out I WILL make memes and I WILL analyse block men.... sorry not sorry :)
[how to get me into an AU- tutorial: Xisumavoid must be in it- the end]
WE ARE ROTATING THEM. WE ARE WATCHING THEM ROTATE!!!!! you freaking GET me
(THERE ARE SOME INTERESTING THOUGHTS HAPPENING HERE!!!! None of which I’ll confirm but Eye Emoji :3 I love love love these theories they make me so happy ehehehehehe)
(ALSO YOU’RE SO WELCOME!!! That art made my day fr LMAO I love and appreciate it so much!!! <3)
#totally agreed. doc and xisuma are underrated#not even as a ship#just as friends I love their duo soooo much#I have a feeling xisuma and doc are gonna do smthn in season 10 together. I just have a feeling#then you’ll all be sorry /idk what this means#dbhc ask#dbhc xisuma#dbhc doc#art escapades#1-marigold-1#the shepherd#my sona#LISTEN YALL GET ME TOO ON THE XISUMA THING#I THOUGHT ABOUT XISUMA FOR TWO SECONDS. WATCHED 5 MINUTES OF HIS VIDEOS. AND WENT. oh okay so I’m making him important in this au.#Xisuma is SUCH an underrated creator I love him SOOOO much Hes so funny and silly and charming#anyway sorry for rambling I’m just RGHRGHRGHR about him#I’m also crazy about doc#so naturally. gestures#dbhc theories
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hi there; first, thank you for making this blog and all the lessons you do, i really appreciate them as a Black person because it highlights a lot of struggles i face with fandoms in general, and why i dont interact more in certain spaces. it makes me feel seen
with regards to your questions, i'd also like answers to them from nonblack fans, especially nonblack anime fans. i don't even mean consuming anime with overtly racist caricatures of black characters (because numerous anime fans pirate their anime and never send a cent to the creators anyway), i mean how can they make fanworks of it?
how can they look at something that they are told is wildly offensive, but then defend with "well, this is how it looks in canon"? where is the line drawn between what's okay and what isn't? as long as it's slow and gradual, is there no line at all?
these are probably just rehashings of your own followup questions, so please excuse that, but i do have an anecdote
i joined a casual anime server the other day and a lot of folks were lamenting one Black character's racist design and how often those on social media will replicate it without thinking/caring. The thing that struck me is that, I've checked this character's tumblr tag regularly for a long time. There are always people who will post art/fanworks of this character with his racist design. Yet hardly ever, if ever, (outside of Black fans) have I seen any of these folks- the ones in the discord server- try to talk to artists/writers/fan creators/etc via asks/replies/etc. There's a notable amount of people in that server and a notable amount that agreed the design was outright racist and that they'll never make fanworks like that, and yet still silence
i'm not entirely sure what would be the line, or the "okay, that's enough" moment to spur any of these folks into action. i'm not sure if there is one. the only reason i don't make my own "hey what is wrong with all of you" post and blow up is because I've made a wonderful little friend group in this fandom who get it, and I don't want them to get caught up in whatever happens if I were to make a post like that
And this is just for getting people to stop using the canon design of the character, i.e., to stop drawing him as a racist caricature. This isn't touching on the people who 1) lighten his skintone [he's been horribly whitewashed over time, which has been reflected in some fanarts and fan merch], or 2) give him a looser hair/straight hair texture, rather than his type 4 hair (there's also #3, which is fanfiction with straight up slurs, and horribly racist writing in it that my friend heavily warned me not to read, but that was more of a one-off case and I've had the creator blocked a long time now).
my point being, we (Black fans) can't even get folks to stop with the caricatures, which we have to start with, and then there's even more of an annoying uphill battle with the other stuff. I'm just so tired of all of this; it makes me want delete my own works and turn away from fandom all together because i can't stand it.
trying for polite and assuming ignorance hardly ever works, speaking bluntly doesnt work at all, making public posts hardly goes anywhere (partly because of how rarely people reblog things anymore, partly because it makes people 'uncomfortable' to share this information with others). Black fans so obviously need help to combat this, and yet it's like sitting at a tea party and hearing all these pretty words in this one setting, yet nobody does anything different/better when the party's over/outside this setting.
sorry for dooming a bit, but like, genuinely i would like to know where the line is for nonblack folks? what is the point/are the points where you would speak up against antiblack racism? have you ever considered speaking up? if there's ever a moment you recognized antiblack racism and didn't say anything, why didn't you? did you consider how your lack of speaking up might affect your fellow Black fans? or how Black fans may be interpret this as silent agreement with the racists/with the racist 'norm'?
..those could maybe be alternative ways of asking your last followup question?
(if i've made any blunders or overstepped here, please let me know!)
No, I'm glad you spoke up! I too would like to see answers!
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regarding the beautiful bisexual italian man who allegedly is responsible for the uhc shooting...
look, i totally get the impulse to obsess over this random guy and turn him into some kind of a working class hero. we're all desperate to root for someone who can take direct action against healthcare tycoons who make our lives so much harder.
but lately i've noticed a shift in the gravity of this discourse away from "why the hell did a man need to die to get pharmacies to stop rejecting all my claims?" and more towards "i want to hear the cute italian twunk moaning and gagging on it..." and like...
i do get it. not only is he just a very clearly attractive man (despite all the media trying in vain to find the worst pictures of him to show), but he has a grab bag of random personality traits that manage to make a lot of people relate to them, even if the claims are dubious at best
he was an avid reader, he was an elon musk follower, he went to an ivy league, he was a chronic poster, he had anxiety, he was a stemcel, he was bisexual, he had mein kampf on his goodreads list, he wanted a white girl to go bug on his dick...
all of these things combined are enough to make this man fascinating to almost anyone. some of them even make him sympathetic to a lot of people (even if stuff like the bi thing is most likely unfounded)
but i want to make something absolutely clear.
this is not. about. luigi mangione...
hell this isn't about ANY suspect that could be the perpetrator (we do not KNOW if luigi mangione can be found guilty until an actual jury goes into deliberation. otherwise we're just putting our blind faith into the nypd which is definitely sketchy, even if the evidence does seem to indicate it's him thus far...)
no this is about one man and one man only:
Brian. Motherfucking. Thompson.
even if this act had been done by some unglamorous 60 year-old trailer trash person instead of a fit, attractive 26 year-old, this shooting is still not about him or his politics or whether he should or shoudln't face justice
no this is about the fact that brian thompson was valuable enough to his company to be a multi-millionaire, but not so valuable that the meeting he missed due to his execution had to be postponed. not so valuable that his position wasn't filled in a matter of days.
this is about the fact that the unceremonious death of an "innocent" man was a better policy in terms of increasing people's access to health coverage than anything the democrats or the republicans advocated for in the past decade. it's the fact that brian thompson's death apparently hurt people very little and helped people a lot.
it didn't have to be this way.
they made it this precarious on purpose because they assumed they could get away with it.
gun to my head? i personally think luigi mangione doesn't deserve to see jail time even if he is guilty. daniel penny executed a black homeless man and he doesn't have to go to prison. kyle rittenhouse is a free man. meanwhile marcellus williams was proven innocent and executed anyway for the crime of not murdering anyone. you can't convince me there are no murders the state wouldn't just unconditionally support if it's in their class interest. if that's the way it is, we deserve to allow this man his "legal kill" that serves us in our defense against the violence of the capital class.
but even if he goes down, even if they make an example out of him, it does not matter.
because this story is not about the killer.
it is about the man who was killed...
and the question of why he had to die for our healthcare needs to be properly addressed...
enjoy the memes for this brief moment in time. but once the glamor and intrigue dies away and we can stop drawing horny fanart of the alleged shooter, we need to circle back to talking about brian thompson. he needs to be the centerpiece of this story. his actions. his ruthless drive to turn a profit. the community of billionaires looking out for themselves. THAT is what this should be about...
we are brushing up against severe disempowerment in the new trump administration. we CANNOT fumble this opportunity for class solidarity...
get it all out of your systems
and turn right back around and demand to know whether these ceo monsters are planning on rejecting our claims the moment this story has faded into the background
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Easing Tensions
Pairing: Tech x F!Reader
Summary: When introductions go wrong, watch as Tech slowly has to earn back your good graces after he insults your abilities as a mechanic. From friendship to something more, eventually the two of you find some slice of heaven on Ord Mantell despite all odds...
Warning: Smut! Tech and reader are definetly not virgins so not first time (unless you wanna count first time together). Mild dom/sub vibes. Casual/playful spanking. Don't worry Tech's still really sweet. Mentions of Omega being kidnapped by Cad Bane and events of Bracca.
***no use of Y/N!!***
Notes: This is my first time posting for Bad Batch content so I really hope that everything goes okay! I want to thank my awesome friend @strawberrypinky for bearing with me and encouraging me despite her not having watched TBB before! It's so wonderful to have a friend who's so supportive!
Definitely pulled some inspo from some AMAZING fanart that I've seen on here. There's this wonderful image of Tech with tattoos by @cloned-eyes and so many incredible ones by @eggdrawsthings like this who often draws Tech with his cute little undercut!
Word Count: 16.5 words (I apologize for my inability to do porn without a plot!)
Ord Mantell wasn’t the nicest part of the galaxy, but-
It is home..?
It is tolerable..?
It is a steaming pile of bantha shit? Yeah that’s probably as close as you could get to describing it.
No one intends to live in this sketchy city in the mid-rims: you just end up here. That’s how you got here after all. After having a few good years working on Coruscant, designing starships for Senators and the Aristocrats of the Republic. But then the war started. The Republic discovered they had been funding an army of clones, and all those privatized contracts dried up, rent went up and you’d been forced to leave the planet of lights.
After your ship had a malfunction, ending up in the space port just outside Cid’s place, the Trandoshan oddly taking pity on you, allowing you a place to crash in exchange for repairing her arcade machines… and the dish washer… and rewire her a new security system… and so much you lost track before word got around of your mechanical engineering skills.
Rotations kept going and it wasn’t long before you found yourself with a small shop, running jobs within the city on household appliances, droids, ships - you name it. It wasn’t much, just a tiny building full of spare parts, a work space, a front with some small devices to sell. Not to mention the small loft apartment above it - not that you actually made it up there, often falling asleep burning the midnight oil at your desk - but it was still a home.
Only occasionally getting robbed or having some creeps passing through town hitting on you being the few things that threw a damper in what turned out to be a decent enough existence. And as sketchy as Cid might be, or the cast of characters she keeps around, you still kept a soft spot for the lady. Always repairing whatever she claimed needed fixing… it was usually nothing. But you’d let her pour you a drink while you ‘fixed’ the slots for the hundredth time. After being tossed out of the highlight of the galaxy, you were finally at peace with where you wound up.
That was, until they showed up.
Bolo had stopped by in the morning, claiming Cid had broken the slot machine again, to which you said the usual: I’ll stop by after I finish this.
This being a machine for one of the only doctors in town. While most of the folks on Ord Mantell were less than ideal, the few good people made it worth sticking around. The doctor needing a medical device for internal issues fixed being an actual emergency over Cid’s loneliness. However, that rationalization soon would be something you’d regret.
Hours melted away, soldering iron finishing off the last of the repair. Standing from the desk, cracking your back and fingers prodding at the crick in your neck. Soreness being the reward for a hard day’s work. Well that and the small burns and cuts on your fingers. But that was an occupational hazard of doing repairs.
Slipping a coat on with the blaster you kept for protection underneath it was a quick delivery, with a joyful thank you - and a thank you pie courtesy of his lovely wife - and you finally made it to Cid’s.
You recognized the armor immediately. Having heard a few weeks back about the end of the war, you wondered what would happen to them. The clones. The ones that took your job. Took any chance at a promising career as a ship designer, because free labor is better than cheap labor.
Why were clones on Ord Mantell?
All with their helmets removed, one near the bar turned to face you almost immediately. His face half covered in a tattoo as he made eye contact. You scowled, turned away, pushing your unresolved anger onto the man as if he personally was the cause of your misery.
Next to him was a clone that looked more metal than man. What had the Republic done with their clones if he wound up this bad? You thought to yourself, watching as his pale eyes glanced over your frame. The coat rack behind you suddenly reminds you that perhaps it best to remind these men you meant business.
Slipping off the outerwear, holster and gun on full display over the tight, oil stained work suit, you once again turn to examine just how many clones were in the parlor. A very large one, entertaining… a child? You knew for a fact these men were clones. Having been hit on by enough, regretfully having slept with a few before you skipped town - you had seen enough brown eyes to last a lifetime.
Then the joyful call of your name, Bolo and Ketch welcoming you over as Cid emerged from the back with yet another clone.
“Took you long enough,” she said, an almost undetectable smile working on her face as the others watched the interaction.
“Well, some of us had real work to do,” You tell her with a fake annoyed expression, stepping closer to the bar.
“You call tinkering in that dark room, work? When I - a paying customer - requested services,” Cid said. That caused the laugh to burst from your mouth, startling the watchful eyes of the new strangers. Soon Bolo and Ketch joined in, slapping the bar excitedly.
“I think I would be concerned if you did actually pay me,” You say through a chuckle, grabbing a tool off your belt as you turn towards the open room. “So where’s this slot machine that’s broken?” You emphasize the word, knowing it was likely from the one wire she always slightly disconnected to make you feel better for drinking without paying.
“Same one as always, you know the drill. But hold on, I want you to meet my new boys. They are going to be running some jobs for me in order to keep a low profile with everything that’s going on,” Cid said, gesturing to the small squad of clones.
“I thought you said you would keep our business discreet?” Face-Tattoo growled as Cid waved him off.
“She’s a trusted acquaintance. The last stray I took in. Now look at her-” Cid started as Ketch spoke at the same time as her.
“A successful business woman-” Cid said.
“Covered in grease-” Ketch said.
Bolo reacted immediately, laughing till he started coughing. The largest of the clones joining the Ithorian in laughter as you scowled at them.
“Cid it almost sounds as if you like me when you put it that way,” you warn her as she shakes her head, pushing you towards the slot machine.
“Eh don’t get carried away. Anyways, introductions. This is bandana-” she began as he grumpily spouted out, “Hunter”.
“This is muscles,” she pointed to the large one, who said “I’m Wrecker!” offering a smile and a hand, which she awkwardly shook.
“That’s tiny-” Cid pointed to the small girl, lingering near the one she called Wrecker.
“Hi! I’m Omega! You are really pretty-” she said, offering a hand as well. Her compliment catches you off guard from all the time with Cid’s sarcasm.
“Oh, uh… thanks kid. I like your uh… enthusiasm” you try to give her a compliment, the politeness so foreign it came off forced but the kid didn’t notice.
“Not sure what to call that one but he’s more metal than man at this point-” she pointed to the cybernetically enhanced one.
“Echo” he said plainly and you nod, appreciating the simplicity in his response.
“And this is goggles” she said, gesturing to the last one, who didn’t bother to look up from the device he was working on to even acknowledge you.
“Charming,” you reply sarcastically, finally drawing his attention as he watched the tail end of your eye roll. His own eyes fixating over the unique attire you donned along with the tools on your belt, his eyes narrowing as he wondered about your occupation.
“His name is Tech, not Goggles,” giggles Omega.
“Ah, I see you are already acclimated to Cid’s show of affection. She must really like you all. Well, now that the introductions are out of the way, Cid-” You began, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible if there were now going to be clones at the parlor. Despite these one’s looking… vastly different, they still played a role in why you left.
“Fix, then drink. You know the deal,” she explains.
Nodding you quickly sliding on your back, you open the circuit board, quickly locating the same wire that was always ‘altered’ prior to your arrival. Just as you went to reattach it however, a voice near your head startled you, the yelp leaving your lips as the wire’s exposed end shocked you.
“Ah!” filled the parlor, everyone’s attention turning towards the slot machine which Tech had inadvertently shoved himself underneath alongside you as he began troubleshooting the issue.
“Perhaps you should consider replacing the whole circuit board and wiring system if this one machine persists with issues. I am inclined to doubt your mechanic skills if you continually have to come back for repairs on the same device.” He spoke bluntly as you dropped the tool in your hand, anger rising to the surface as he stared at the machine, hands starting to trace the circuit board when you lost it.
“What are you doing?!” You demanded, finally drawing his attention, when Tech realized he had invaded your personal space a bit more than he intended.
“Oh, I was curious if my knowledge of engineering would be helpful given you seem to lack the knowledge in order to fix this devic-” he started but you weren’t hearing it, sliding away from him instantly as you brushed yourself off and stood, angrily stomping in the opposite direction.
Cid called your name but you weren’t hearing it, reaching for your coat, tossing it on despite the many eyes watching your hasty exit. “Clones!” you gritted through clenched teeth, eyes rolling as you started up to street level. Steps on the stairs being the last anyone heard of you as you left a wake of confusion.
“Way to go Goggles” Cid chastised him as he stood, having propped himself up when you stomped away.
“I fail to see the issue. I merely pointed out the flaws in her previous attempts to fix the slot-” Tech began to defend himself.
“I don’t think insulting her was the right move,” Hunter groaned.
“Yeah, why did you make fun of how she fixes stuff? She was really pretty.” Wrecker said, sheepish look.
Echo remained silent, watching as Tech did not grasp what had happened, once again firing into an explanation as to why he believed he was not in the wrong.
“If one continually has to return to fix the same device, I believe it only fair to question the validity of their credentials. Why else would it-” Tech spoke, only to have Omega step towards him, gently placing her hand on his armored shoulder before she said, “Tech, I think that for the two of them, fixing the machine is Cid’s way of asking for her company. That’s why it’s always the same device that’s broken-”
“What you are saying is that the slot machine is a humorous bit of sorts?” He asked, glancing back at the way the panel lacked 2 bolts on its cover. When he looked at the spot, now vacated by you, he noticed you left a wrench on the ground. Walking towards it, he bent at the waist, picking it up and examining it. Carved into the handle were some initials, he assumed must be yours.
“It seems Tiny is smarter than you are Goggles,” Cid said with an eye roll, walking to the backroom, leaving the clones with the two regulars who awkwardly watched the interaction.
“I did not mean to appear rude-” Tech sighed, fingers probing his temples as Omega looked at Ketch.
“You know her don’t you?” Omega asked.
“Yeah… I can take it to her place on the way home. She tends to hole herself up there for days at a time-” Ketch explained only to have Omega shake her head.
“If you could tell us where it is, I can return it.” The small girl informed the group, immediately having Hunter protest, but Echo nudged him, pointing at Tech.
“Fine but take Tech with you,” Hunter realized Echo was alluding to Tech being granted an opportunity to apologize.
“I still believe it best to wait until morning given the nature of this town being less than ideal,” Tech protested.
“It’ll be fine Tech, we can take them!” Omega said enthusiastically, grabbing his hand and her newly acquired bow.
“I’m assuming them to be the metaphorical enemies we may run across?” He sighed, reaching for his helmet but Omega yanked him harder.
“Omega my helm-“ he yelped and she kept dragging.
“It’ll be fine. Besides, if you are going to apologize it’s better to let her see your face when you do so,” omega explained.
“Why does seeing my face matter?” He groaned, the two of them coming to the street as Ketch pointed them in the direction of a street, giving them a piece of paper with your shop logo before leaving.
“Well, I don’t know. Maybe she’ll think you’re handsome,” Omega spoke with a mischievous grin, still tugging her brother along as he stumbled behind her.
“That is rather doubtful,” He told her, sigh passing over his lips as he realized it would likely be the same story he’d known many times at this point. Any time they were on Corrasaunt, they did worse with the presence of Regs, and the few women that glanced their way were always going for Wrecker, Crosshair or Hunter. He had lucked out in some ways, that Echo seemingly did just as bad with women, the two of them only rarely completing the mission so to speak. On the rare instance he did find himself, it usually felt awkward, unsatisfying and with them forgetting his name by morning. Despite being well versed in how to assist women, it always felt forced and against his nature to behave in the more dominant nature most females found appealing. Not that Tech was going to be the one to explain the intricacies of sexual relations to Omega. He was certain via scientific means that she was aware of how the act worked, but beyond that it felt more like a conversation between her and genuinely anyone else.
“I think that’s it!” She pointed out, and he raised the crude drawing on a napkin they had acquired that showed the logo of the shop. Above the shop was a light in what he figured to be a small domicile she occupied.
“I believe you are correct, however it may be best to attempt entry from the back. It appears there is a set of stairs that lead to-” he began, only to have the girl bound off without him for the alleyway, a slight skip in her step.
From within your apartment, you were angrily stomping about, tossing random parts into a crate. Circuit board, wires, tools. Who was he to question your ability to fix the damned machine? Fixing to make your way back to the parlor, you were dead set on proving him wrong.
In the midst of your sharp movements a knock at the apartment door startled you, causing you to stumble and ram your toes into the leg of the nearest table. The expletive ringing through the air as you hobbled towards the door, hand on the gun in case some creep had followed you. Pulling up the image display you had installed for security you saw the girl from the parlor and -
Door sliding open, you leaned against the frame to prevent putting weight on the throbbing extremity.
“Can I help you?” You grumpily scoffed at the pair, the little girl undeterred by your perturbed nature while the Clone, much less confident now glanced around awkwardly, his arms clutching his sides.
“We came to return your wrench,” she smiled up at you, her innocent brown eyes sparkling with the low lighting of your flat reflecting. Dammit.
“Well, that is unexpectedly kind I suppose. I assume Ketch told you where I live, so why not just let him do it?” You ask, still unsure why she sought you out to return something as simple as a wrench. You had hundreds. Still feeling the pain in your foot, you began to worry that you had actually broken or fractured something, given it had lingered, so as you looked down at the young girl you once again shifted weight, a slight hiss exiting your lips, nearly undetectable, but with the way Tech was scrutinizing you he noticed.
“Oh, I just thought that maybe since you and Cid are close, our squad could become friends with you-” Omega began only to have Tech interrupt her, stepping between the two of you.
“You are injured,” he bluntly said, gesturing down to your foot.
“Yes. I do not get visitors, especially this time of night, and certainly not men who have insulted me coming to my door. The knock startled me,” you hissed out as you straightened up, forcing him to maintain eye contact with you as you glared at him.
“Tech did not mean to be rude-” the girl began sensing the shift in hostility between the way you had spoken softly to her and the way tension grew the second Tech spoke up.
“I’m sure Tech-” you cut her off and test the waters by using his name before continuing “-doesn’t need you to apologize on his behalf. He’s a big boy. He can do it himself,” You glance down at her before once again turning to face him, arms crossing over your chest. “Unless of course, he isn’t sorry?” You challenge him to speak up with your tone.
“I-” she spoke after the beat of silence, only to have the man interrupt her once more.
“I believed myself to be perfectly within the bounds of questioning your skillset given the information I had at the time, being your frequent return to the parlor-” He began and you rolled your eyes, back of your head leaning back to meet the frame of the door as you scoffed.
“So you came to further insult me.” You said as he paused momentarily to look at you.
“No, I was-” Tech began and you waved him off, dismissing him.
“Sure sounds that way to me Brown Eyes,” You push off the frame of the door despite the pain in your toe, to get as close to face level as possible, despite his extremely tall frame. “I’ve dealt with enough clones to last a lifetime. And my experience has always been that of arrogant, inconsiderate men who think too highly of themselves and too lowly of me,” you lean in closer to his ear so only he will hear as you whisper, “especially for men who continually failed to finish me off…”
Leaning back you smirk watching the realization, possibly even horror cross his features as the tips of his ears burn red.
“Omega, go back to Cid’s-” he stuttered out as you laughed.
“Not this time of night Tech. Ord Mantell is far from the worst place in the galaxy but that doesn’t mean it's safe for her to navigate alone, especially with what’s on the horizon.” You warned him, eyes glancing up to the sky.
“Whatever do you mea-” Tech began, watching in horror as Omega’s hair began to slightly stand up as she giggled, while a large flash of light overhead.
“Electrical storms. I am surprised you didn’t note them in whatever archives I suspect someone of your calliber to have examined about Ord Mantell before or shortly after arrival,” You mention, looking down at the young girl. If it was just her, you would have no issue letting Omega in. But the extremely tall trooper wasn’t exactly in your best sights currently. Sighing you step aside, gesturing to come inside.
“I have not had proper time to examine known information on-” Tech straightened up as you interrupted him.
“Save it. Just get inside. They get downright nasty. I may not like you very much, but I am also not a monster who’s going to let you get electrocuted in the streets,” you scoffed at him, allowing the pair to pass through your flat’s entryway.
“Wow you have your own room!” Omega joyfully exclaimed, rushing around to look at your sparse belongings and wall decorations. Some random plans, some spare parts, a few drawings, a few photos - nothing abnormal.
“I can’t say I make it up here most nights to actually enjoy it, so apologies about the mess,” you hush out. Tech’s eyes were wide as he had trained them onto the back of your small sofa. Getting closer you realized what caused his nervousness as a bra tossed over the back came into view from where you’d flung it one evening. Crossing ahead of him, you reached for it, shoving it into the cushions.
While Tech commed back to the rest of their team, informing them the plan to wait out the normal evening storm here, you double checked no other artifacts of awkward origins to be lingering about.
The apartment wasn’t much, just a bed in the back corner behind a screen, a small kitchen with one burner and a stove, along side a small refrigeration unit. A refresher behind a door right at the entry way and some sparse furniture. Mostly, the space just spilled over spare parts from downstairs.
“Omega stop meddling in belongings that are not yours, it’s rude” Tech warned as he came back from discussing with Hunter. Omega hadn’t sat still, running around your flat as new items of interest took over her young mind.
“She’s fine,” you tell him, leaning against a wall looking at how he shifted slightly under your scrutiny.
“Tech look! It’s our ship!” Omega shouted from near one of the windows and he moved towards her, assuming her to be pointing outside in the direction of the hanger, but as he got closer he saw a small model of the standard ship, along with some drawings on the wall.
“Well, technically Omega we use a heavily modified version and this is the standard model of the-” he started as you chuckled.
“Omicron Class Attack Shuttle,” You tell him, coming to stand on the other side of Tech.
“How do you know have these? They are for military usage only, and I calculate the probability of one ending up here during the war to be quite low,” Tech asked.
“She helped design it.” Omega mentioned very plainly as Tech’s eyes bulged, turning to the young girl in time to see her fingers pointing towards some of your old sketches, signature and date marked many moons ago.
“But that-” he came closer to what Omega pointed out, heart beat picking up as he realized not only had he flown a ship you apparently helped design, but he had just earlier insulted your knowledge of mechanics.
“Was a lifetime ago. But yes. I used to live on Coruscant and worked as an engineer. Until contracts for civilians dried up. When I left, my ship had a malfunction and this was the safest planet to land for repairs. Haven’t left.” You explain to him, shifting the weight back off the injured toe, which you could feel swelling in the confines of your sock.
“These drawings do not match the standard regulation manuels for the shuttle. Why are they different? They closer resemble some of the modifications I have personally installed.” Tech asked you, fingers tracing over the worn schematics as he noted a different configuration for the main compressor and hyperdrive.
“I was only a junior engineer at the time. My supervisor demanded the changes be made no matter how much I protested. That’s why I was surprised to hear you boys fly one, but I suppose your modifications have extended it’s life. The changes my team made were less than ideal. But still, it’s my favorite ship I’ve designed,” you explain, feeling a strange mixture of relief and anxiety to bring up the past like this.
“Fascinating… What other ships have you designed if you don’t mind me asking?” he asked without looking up from the remnants of your old work.
“There’s a data pad right there on the table. Not sure if it’s got enough power to charge up, but it has the schematics of what I worked on. I’ll warn you, it’s mostly shuttles for senators or higher ranking military personale. Not many are military craft,” you explain pointing out the data pad, noting the Omega had disappeared from view, finding her sitting on the sofa as she smiled and waved to you.
Moving across the apartment you sat next to her, curious why 4 clones were traveling with a child.
“So what’s your story kid?” You ask her, watching as Tech poked around your small corner of relics from time spent as an engineer, his fingers picking up some of the small models as he continued to flip through the data pad he got working with a small transportable battery pack, muttering out undistinguishable words ever few moments.
You split your attention between half listening to Omega’s explanation of how she was a clone like the others to watching Tech’s half smile as he glanced over your old work. Strangely enough when he wasn’t insulting you, he was handsome. Different from other clone’s you’d met in the fact his face was more angularly and thin. Hair and skin lighter in color than the others, he looked so familiar and yet so unique.
Suddenly a weight on your shoulder broke you out of the trance you had developed as you stared at Tech, who was still distracted as he propped himself up against the wall. Omega, having fallen asleep, was leaning on you as her breathing evened out.
You knew sleep wouldn’t come with the strange clones in your apartment so you carefully lifted her, as she weighted very little, and began to move her towards your bed. Least you could do was let her sleep on a real bed for the first time in a while. Tech’s eyes flashed when he saw the movement, not saying anying as he watched you carry her. Setting down the datapad he realized you would not be able to move the privacy screen while your arms were occupied, so he adjusted it out of the way as you bent a bit to set the young girl on the bed, pulling the recently washed covers up around her.
Omega’s eyes cracked open slightly as she smiled and snuggled down into the bed before drifting back to sleep, the two of you bearing witness to how sweet she looked as sleep overtook her young body. Nodding your head he stepped aside, allowing you both to leave the designated area for the bed and he once again closed the screen.
“You did not have to do that, my calculations show that the storm is likely to pass within the next few hours,” Tech whispered as you shrugged.
“When was the last time she slept in a real bed?” You challenged.
“Point taken. I do have several questions on various ships I examined while looking through your datapad, but I feel it inappropriate to ask given I insulted you earlier,” He said in a hushed breath as you nodded.
“So how do you plan to rectify that hotshot?” You aren’t sure why you felt the need to shift your tone to playful as you nudged his shoulder, forgetting he had on plastoid as it made contact and immediately stung.
“I am uncertain. I do not have data to base interactions such as this upon in order to determine the best possible course of action,” He whispered out as you sighed, going to put on the kettle.
“It’s as simple as saying you are apologetic,” you explain to him calmly, realizing now that perhaps Tech lacked some social awareness despite that big brain of his. You were used to it in the field of engineers. Kind people who weren’t always the most adept at dealing with emotions.
Tech’s eyes watched as you began to heat up water on the stove, the slight hobble in your step still apparent.
“I apologize for being rude. You are still injured from earlier,” he nodded to your foot.
“I’ll live. But thank you for your apology. Tea? Calf? What’s your poison?” You ask him nodding to the water.
“I don’t think there’s any reason to trouble you with either on my behalf,” he said simply as you rolled your eyes.
“It's no trouble at all. Besides with how nasty those electrical storms are you are going to want to get comfortable. Feel free to take off the plastoid, I can’t imagine it’s pleasant to be in all the time,” you tell him.
He simply stands, not wanting to argue, carefully removing the pieces and stacking them in a neat pile on the floor. You take out two mugs from the cabinet, deciding that he seemed like more of a cheap ration calf man, much like yourself, so you spoon it into the cups and pour the water on top before setting one down in front of him before grabbing the sugar from the pantry and setting it out.
“Thank you,” Tech mentioned, ignoring the sugar and just began to sip it as is.
“No problem, so these questions?” you came to sit on the adjacent barstool, nodding towards the schematics he had pulled up.
Tech felt his stomach drop seeing you so close, leaning over the holopad ready to answer his questions when only an hour ago you were content to ring his neck out. Having someone to discuss his area of expertise with was rare, especially not someone so pretty…
₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Several rotations and jobs for Cid under the Batch’s belt, you’d formed a very unique relationship with the clone to say the least. When getting along, things were great. However, you still occasionally found yourself frustrated with his affinity for saying things, while true, that came off as callus or dismissive.
Such as the most recent issue. Tech let you poke around the modifications he’d made to their ship in some down time, during which you pointed out a better alternative for the power cufflinks. This led the man to get defensive, jumping to an explanation that once again challenged your expertise. Leading to a speedy exit from the hanger and ignoring his feeble attempts at knocking on your door, Tech left Ord Mantell to meet Rex on Bracca with you still very much angry at him.
He’d sent a message, to which you ignored on the private com channel he set up for you, as you warned the boys that while you adored Cid, she wasn’t particularly known for being trustworthy. Despite your occasional frustration at times with Tech’s less than appealing behavior, you didn’t want anything bad to happen to them.
Going off-world for an unknown amount of time to remove a device that might cause us to lose bodily autonomy and certain cognitive functions that were part of our programming. It is imperative we do so, however there are unknowns with such a procedure. Things may not go according to plan. ~ Tech
You didn’t respond, set in your stubbornness as you ignored his message that matter of factly stated his plans. Your largest complaint about the man, despite his very kind nature overall, was that he struggled admitting he was wrong or had hurt your feelings.
After a few hours you received another ping.
Landed and waiting to meet our contact. ~ Tech
You sigh, continuing to twist the bolt holding together the maintenance droid someone recently allowed you to have, trying to fix the pile of scrap so you could gain some relief with fulfilling projects.
Another ping came in less than an hour later.
I apologize for once again hurting your pride. I am unused to dealing with those who are not my brothers, and they have acclimated themselves to my more undesirable traits. It is not an excuse, but please know that I am attempting to correct such habits in the name of maintaining our friendship, as it is something I am coming to value. ~ Tech
You look at the screen. He was trying his best and you could recognize that. It softened the anger you felt. You weren’t fully ready to discuss with him however, leaving the message open on your tablet, losing yourself in the work in front of you as your mind tried to form a proper response.
[Incoming message from Tech]
Wrecker’s inhibitor chip activated. Things were more intense than I initially anticipated. He did not hesitate to try and harm us. Omega was frightened by his actions, however no one was injured beyond him briefly rendering me unconscious. That being said, I am fine. We are waiting for him to wake up. Still unsure the safety of this procedure as his vitals have not stabilized. I will continue to keep you posted even if you are neglecting to respond. ~ Tech
Staring at the screen the sudden concern for the safety of their team outweighed you silly argument with Tech, fingers forming a response, and hitting send despite the several crafted responses you had spent the last hours mentally cataloging.
From the ruins of the jedi cruiser on Bracca, Tech was surprised as he saw an incoming response from you, sitting up immediately as he read it.
I am sorry for not responding. I needed time to mentally process your apology, as your words do hurt sometimes. That being said, we do not have to discuss things further. I hope Omega is doing better. I cannot imagine how frightening that must have been for her. Tell her she's got a girl's only night when she returns filled with all the street food her heart desires. Let me know when Wrecker wakes up. Please try and stay safe. Drinks are on me when you all get back to Ord Mantell.
Tech smiled down at the message, leaning back some in the seat. He didn’t want to push his luck by responding to you. You were kind enough to offer an olive branch and accept his apology once more.
Soon Wrecker woke up, prompting the others to take turns removing their chips. Tech wasn’t sure why he felt the need to wait to be last. Perhaps he wanted confirmation that things would be alright? Perhaps he was more nervous than he anticipated. But when it was finally his turn to lay down, his last thought before drifting off was of a pretty mechanic back on their new home waiting for him.
₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
“This is the Havoc-Marauder - *static* please, come in,” the vocal element of your com began blaring through the otherwise quiet shop as you continued to repair projects. Boosting the signal you reached down to the tablet, pressing the button, trying to figure out why the boys seemed so distressed.
Tech had informed you that they were all able to remove the inhibitor chips successfully and that they were going to attempt to recover valuable assets from the ship before their departure. Not worried about the plan, you were surprised to hear the fear in their voices as you waited for a response.
“The empire showed up and in the chaos of it all, a bounty hunter named Cad Bane took Omega and injured Hunter. We are trying to locate where they may have taken her, since it was off-world. Do you have any contacts who may know more? We can’t get a hold of Cid-” Echo spoke through the coms instead of Tech.
“Actually, I have more information that may be useful” came Tech’s faded voice from the back of the transmission, as you allowed him to speak. “Omega is more valuable than we realized,” Tech spoke, leading a winded Hunter to question why, as you held your breath waiting for information that may be useful.
“I further analyzed Omega’s genetic profile and discovered she has pure, first generation DNA-” Tech spoke, and while you weren’t fully versed in cloning or the Kamino process, you assumed that made her more valuable than the others. As Tech continued to explain for the others to understand, you reached over for the long range transmitter and sent a message to an old friend, who quickly read and began typing.
“If she’s vital to the Kaminoans cloning operation, they must have put the bounty on her-” you heard Echo say, confirming the suspicions you already had.
“So how do we find this bounty Hunter?” Wrecker grumbled just in time for you to speak up.
“I may have an idea, if anyone’s up for it-” you offer, wishing more than anything the boys were in range to see them instead of just hear them. Something about putting eyes on them would’ve been a comfort, but you’d settle for their voices.
“That is why we contacted you, so please,” Hunter mentioned.
“Well, I had a friend back when I was on Coruscant. She worked closely with the cloning operations medical staff, and was transferred to Coruscant at the start of the war. She said there’s several decommissioned Kaminoan facilities throughout the galaxy. If the Kaminoans are the one’s after Omega, shouldn’t they want a secure location that only they are aware of? At the very least, it’s a starting point. She was able to inform me of 3 she knew about. Two in close proximity to your location. The other is closer to Ord Mantell if you wish for me to check it out-” you explain only to have Tech cut you off.
“Negative. With a bounty hunter as dangerous as Cad Bane I do not wish for you to go anywhere near that facility. Transmit the coordinates and we shall examine the closer one’s first-” he said.
“If Omega is at that facility, you all will miss her transfer between the bounty hunter and Kaminoans. That’s not worth chancing it. I can decide what risks I wish to undertake on my own-” your voice raises to accommodate the frustration you feel.
“Regardless it is not a job you should undertake given your skillset is not that of combat,” he tells you, the others growing silent as you dismiss his concerns.
“I am transmitting the coordinates. See you all when you get back. Let me know if something happens.” You state bluntly, and as Tech goes to question you once more, you cut the call, not wanting to hear his concerns. You didn’t want Omega injured or removed from her brothers. He wasn’t going to stop you from looking. That wasn’t Tech’s call to make.
Quickly rushing around the messy flat, you collected what you through you may need before going down to the hanger which held your rusty bucket of bolts. It wasn’t much, but it would do. Rarely having time to work on it, you knew the ship needed a massive overhaul, but that could come after you saved Omega.
It was when you came out of hyperspace in your small shuttle that you received another transmission.
“Omega was able to get away from the bounty hunter but we aren’t sure for how long she’ll be free. She is at the location closer to Ord Mantell, in the Lido system but we are uncertain if we will reach it in time-” Hunter spoke feverishly as you looked down at the planet’s surface.
“Then it’s a good thing I am already here,” you tell them, flying close by to the facility seeing three ships already landed, meaning the transfer was happening or soon to be over, and that a possible third party was involved.
“I thought I cautioned you to stay on Ord Mantell where it was safe,” Tech said, anger laced in his tone as you set the ship down on an abandoned platform, reaching for the baster you kept on you at all times. You may not be the best at fighting, but you did have the ability to cloak, as you developed a small experimental hood that utilized the same technology as your cloaked shuttle. It would have to be enough to locate Omega and hope you all could slip away from the bounty hunter before someone realized you were here.
“You did. But it’s a good thing I elected to ignore it. Do hurry, I will try and find Omega or at the very least stall until you all can reach the system. Over-” you called, turning off the device so that the sound would not give you away and slipped outside.
You didn’t make it very far before you heard shouting and Omega fell onto the platform adjacent to your own after awkwardly riding atop a small droid - possibly a techno service droid but it was too far away to notice. Rushing towards her before she could get very far, you removed the hood disguising your head.
“Omega!” you shouted, drawing her attention as she turned and quickly ran back in your direction, a small limp in her step which must have occurred at some point during her escape.
“You came for me!” she leapt into your arms, as you reached for a small multitool from your belt to cut her binders.
“Of course I did, your brothers aren’t that far behind, we need to get out of her-” you started, only to be cut off as you watched in horror. The droid, which Omega was running from, had activated a panel on the platform your ship was on, causing it to fall into the ocean depths below, preventing your escape.
“I just paid that off,” you cried watching it fall as Omega dragged you down a small set of stairs, noting the pods for escaping the Kaminan facility just ahead.
“I’m sure Tech will help you fix a new one, we need to hurry, the bounty hunter who tried to get me on Pantora is here fighting the one who took me. We don’t have much time” she mentioned, the two of you cramming into the pod before one of the bounty hunters could emerge.
Just as the pod was activated however, the little droid who destroyed your shuttle appeared in the viewport, demanding to know where you were going. Omega didn’t respond, angrily typing until the pod launched, her falling into your lap and you held her tightly and the droid flew out of the view.
“Do we have any control over this thing?” You demanded to know, the little girl turning in your lap as she shook her head no, loud blaring of an emergency alarm filling the pod.
“Alright, we aren’t going to panic. If we survive the landing your brothers will be here soon enough okay? So just hold on-” you try to reassure her, running a gentle hand through her hair as you continue to fall towards the ocean. Not sure if you even believed your attempt at calming her, you didn’t want your final moments to be filled with fear before the unknown of what came after all this.
“I’m scared-” she said quietly, eyes closing as she snuggled into you. You didn’t respond, pulling her close, the scent of blaster fire lingering on her frame. You were going to be okay. The boys weren’t close behind. Everything would be fine-
Suddenly a loud thud came over the top of the pod, stalling the descent. Pulling the blaster you looked up, pushing Omega as far behind you as it would allow in the cramped space, ready to shoot if it was the bounty hunter who’d locked onto the escape pod. When it opened however, and the smoke cleared, Wrecker leaned his face into view.
“Omega?! Are you in there?” He shouted, looking down as his eyes landed on the both of you. Putting the gun back at your side you lifted her into his waiting arms. Once she was being lifted out of the pod, you began climbing the small ladder, as Wrecker welcomed her back.
“Tech your girlfriend is in here too-” he said cheerfully, Echo reaching down to help pull you out as well.
“Wrecker that is inappropriate as we are not courting-” Tech yelled from the cockpit as you found footing inside their ship. Hunter, who was still heavily bandaged turning to you as Omega greeted Echo from within Wrecker’s arms.
“You came to help. Why?” He asked you, pain still evident in his voice from whatever injuries he sustained.
“Because she needed it. I didn’t really do much if I am honest, just covered her exit-” you explained as Omega solemnly looked at you, tears welling in her eyes.
“I am so sorry about your ship,” she said as you shook your head.
“Don’t worry about it kid. Ships are replaceable. You aren’t.” You told her, ruffling her hair as she made her way to Hunter. Suddenly the waterworks started and he checked on her as you moved back, to allow them a reunion. You couldn’t imagine how frightening it must have been for her the last few days.
“Thank you for helping us find her. We would not have been able to do so in a timely manner had it not been for you.” Echo complimented.
“No need to thank me,” you began, only to have a clearing throat behind you prevent you from speaking further. Tech was leaning up against the wall leading into the cockpit, his face turned completely to the side, facing the control panel.
“If you’ll excuse me-” you told Echo, following Tech's stomping footsteps as he led you into the cockpit, promptly shutting the door behind you to allow privacy.
“Before you berate me can you at least-” you started, only to feel arms pull you, quite awkwardly, into a plastoid covered chest.
His helmet was off. You could tell by the way his breath ruffled your hair gently as he leaned his face down along the top of your head. Once the initial shock wore off, your arms moved behind him, tightening around his back in that section between his armor and utility belt, feeling the warmth as his body gave off from beneath the black suit.
Sure he was a bit musky from having gone a few rotations without a refresher to clean up, but he was here, solid and strong. Under the lingering scent of sweat, ash, and grime you could smell that GAR issued soap they kept on board, which always clung to him and became apparent when you leaned in to see the datapad over his shoulder.
“Thank you. Despite being reckless, your actions and intel were able to help us retrieve Omega,” he whispered against your hairline, his lips barely brushing the skin there as he spoke. The featherlike contact, making you shiver, goosebumps raising along your skin.
Not anticipating his gratitude, you didn’t respond initially, soaking up the rare affection as you noticed Tech didn’t often seem to enjoy people in his personal space. Any time you got too close he’d clear his throat, shifting away. Any time you’d accidentally brush your fingers against his own, he’d wipe his gloved palms over his thighs as if to remove any traces of you. This jump to initiating contact catching you off guard.
“I don’t regret anything. She’s safe. That’s all that matters,” you tell him, fingers finding the area just below the chest plate as you rub your hand up and down his back slowly, as if to test the waters. He doesn’t say anything, even if it did bother him, as you remain there for a moment longer.
“While Omega is a large priority of mine, I argue that your safety is also important,” he said, uncertainty laced in his voice.
“Well, that’s good to hear. I am glad you all are safe. I was worried when you said Wrecker temporarily went rogue.” You admit to him, removing your cheek from the harsh chestplate, putting your forehead there instead. Removing your arms from behind him, you prepared to end the embrace, despite not really wanting to.
“We are fine,” he said softly, noticing you pulling back as he dropped his hands slowly.
“Really? All here now? No missing limbs-” you start to tease as you pull away, finally catching a glimpse of him as you chuckle. “Oh. Missing hair though it would seem-” you point up, noticing the way he now sported a shaved patch on almost the entirety of one side of his head, where a small bandage covered a section just back from his temple.
Tech’s gloved fingers immediately sought out the side of his head, grazing the patch as he looked down, almost embarrassingly as his arm fell back to his side.
“Rather unfortunate but it’ll grow back. Although, Echo did take off more than I believe to have been necessary. Small price to pay for the removal of those chips. After seeing what it did to Wrecker, I do not mind having the peace of knowing that it will not affect me in the future-” He began to ramble, only to trail off as he noticed you lean up some, inspecting his hair with an unreadable expression. “Something wrong?” he asked, uneasiness setting in.
Not responding, you looked closer. Reaching your hand up gently, fingertips tracing a similar path that his own had, his eyes growing wide as you inspected the short hairs now on that side of his head, which contradicted the opposing side, where it remained slicked back. Small smile on your face as your hand fell away, but you kept close proximity to his stunned face.
“Not at all. I don’t hate it actually,” you slyly smile as his eyebrows shoot up in response.
“I find that hard to believe-” he states plainly as his eyes drift away momentarily before coming back to search for the truth. A part of him partly expects you to be playfully teasing him, as he’d come to accept that as part of your personality.
“Be that as it may, if I were you, I’d consider keeping it,” you tell him honestly, eyes glancing back to his own from within the confines of his goggles.
“Really?” he pressed, uncertain as he imagined it looked horrid, since he’d only felt around for it with the chaos that persisted after they removed the chips.
“I like it. It’s rugged in a way that is quite handsome,” you tell him honestly, stepping back from the almost trance you were in caused by the change in his appearance. Your cheeks burning red at the honesty you had spoken. The quick departure from his personal space made you miss the mirroring pair of pink tinted cheeks on the soldier.
“Oh,” he said, almost surprised as you turned away to rejoin the others. When you opened the door back to the main hull you barely heard Tech’s soft voice say, “fascinating…” as his fingers once again grazed his short hair with a childlike grin gracing his face.
₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
You were going to kill Cid. That was, assuming the Pykes didn’t kill you first. Not only had she conspired to have the bad batch steal spice to get rid of Roland Durand, who had moved in and taken the city in their absence. Fortunately your shop, not valuable without your knowledge of how to use the spare parts, had been spared, but not Cid’s.
When things had gone south, they lost the spice in an old mine shaft filled with a hive of irlings. Returning to the parlor, Omega were held in order to make the boys co-operate, and yourself to make Cid.
Hands bound next to the Devaronian male who instigated the whole situation, you couldn’t fully fault his anxiety. If the batch wasn’t able to recover the spice, you were as good as dead. So was Omega. Which is why you put your trust in them, praying to the maker Tech could figure out a solution that left you all to walk away.
You tried to remove the image of Tech’s very angry face as the leader of the Pykes told them that Omega and you would remain with them as collateral, his eyes snapping to yours as his hand reached for the pistol on his hip and held it up ready to fire without a second thought. Something about it was so incredibly protective. As someone who’d been on their own for such a long time, it made your stomach swarm with butterflies.
“Don’t try it. They’ll kill you,” Roland warned, your eyes snapping to Omega who was eying an abandoned gun on the floor near where you were all bound.
“I hate to agree but he’s right,” you whispered, gesturing for her to stay put. If there’s one thing you knew, it was to not mess with the Pykes.
“If your friends don’t return with the spice, we’re all dead. That’s what happens when you meddle in other people’s business,” he said very pessimistically.
“Us? You’re the one who took Cid’s parlor from her-” Omega began to argue, and not wishing to participate in their spat, you leaned your head back.
Ever since you all had rescued Omega from the bounty hunter, things had been different with you and Tech. Not incredibly so. He resumed the distance physically he always kept between you. It seemed he truly didn’t wish to invade your space and kept you from doing the same. That being said, there had not been an argument to date. Not even a slip of tongue from him that indicated a lack in your skills.
A part worried that he regretted it, or was possibly trying to keep you from making another advancement. You aren’t sure why you had complimented him, and despite the positive reaction it seemed to warrant, things had gotten somewhat stagnant. More awkward when you were alone, as if he was unsure. At this rate you left it in his court to decide. You made up your mind some time ago in that cockpit that you had feelings for the man, regardless of if he returned them.
You hoped he did. After all, he had decided to keep his hair buzzed down on the sides once it began growing back in, since you mentioned that you found it attractive, the shorter hair accentuating his more prominent features like his sharp jaw or chiseled cheekbones. That’s got to count for something, right? And when they were away on missions, he still messaged when he could check in or chat on long flights. You assumed that was a good sign.
There had also been an uptick in time he spent at your shop or flat. Sure, the others did as well. Omega often came by since she needed escapes from her brothers. Wrecker loving to come pilfer food from your pantry. Echo occasionally needed help with malfunctions in his mechanical arm or legs. Hunter was the one you saw the least, and never alone, but he tended to keep to himself. However Tech was there at seemingly every free moment he had - fixing stuff alongside you in the shop, occasionally reading up on manuals late at night in your flat as you briefly spoke about ideas for projects to help their jobs with Cid.
Just as nightfall began you all were ushered to the hanger, the Marauder visible you were pushed outside, landing on your knees next to Rolland and Omega. The boys exited the ship, Cid on their tails as Wrecker began to unload the spice. Glancing up at Tech’s worried eyes you felt relief knowing that the hard part was over.
Once Wrecker unloaded the last crate, one of the Pyke’s came behind you, knife in hand as you grew nervous. The Pykes weren’t galactically known for playing fair, and with Omega off to the side, you worried that they might punish you for Cid’s rash actions.
Tech watched, fingers reaching for his weapon as he saw the fear in your eyes. You made eye contact with him once more as you waited for whatever outcome may present itself, hoping that they would do their best to take care of you if it got ugly. Feeling movement on your wrists, you were relieved when they cut the bindings, pushing you forward.
“Since the spice has been returned, the matter between us is resolved,” they spoke, as you reached forward, Tech’s hand pulling you next to him as Hunter grabbed Omega. From over Cid’s head, you watched as they weren’t finished with the Devaronian, and you didn’t really care watching him deal with their anger.
“Are you unharmed?” Tech’s eyes found yours as you stabilize yourself, nodding to him. From the corner of your eye the others attempted to defuse the situation, to no avail as Roland had one of his horns shorn and the Pykes left.
The way Cid turned, offering everyone drinks as if she hadn’t looped you all into her mess, angered you. She’d almost gotten you, Omega, and the other’s killed because she wasn’t strong enough to stand up for herself in the face of a gangster.
Fire and brimstone in your blood, you felt your hands shaking as you let go of Tech’s arm. “I just want to go home,” you said, pushing his armored chest and began stomping away from the others, who were heading inside the Parlor, excited things had worked out.
Tech watched your retreating form, understanding your frustration but confused as to why you hadn’t wanted to celebrate with the others. After all, things had worked out, no one was injured. His voice calling your name wasn’t enough to halt your exit from the hanger, as you continued walking away from him.
Tech shot a glance at the others before diverting from their path to follow you back to your apartment, quicking his strides as he attempted to gain on you. You weren’t really sure why you kept on, ignoring his calls for you to wait. Perhaps anger at Cid. Maybe frustration at the situation. Or a feeling you couldn't quite put your finger on - either way you kept walking, rushing up the stairs as he was hot on your heels.
Just as you opened the door to your flat with a shoosh, Tech shoved his foot in the door before you could close it, pushing his way inside before you could lock him out. A bit presumptuous, but a small part of you felt relief seeing him make it in before you shut the world out.
“You heard me calling after you,” he said bluntly.
“I did,” you tell him, catching your breath from running, scowling when you realized that he didn’t have the same issue. Curse those genetically modified lungs.
“So why did you keep going?” He asked you, staring down at you. His helmet still held in his hands as you shifted your weight to the other leg, uncertain how to answer.
“I am not sure,” you tell him honestly. He pauses, before speaking.
“Do you wish for me to leave?”
You shake your head.
“Do you wish for me to stay with you?”
You nod.
He lets out a deep breath, setting the helmet on the table right near the door and probing his temple with his extremely long fingers.
“Should we just sit? Talk? What can I do? I need direction on how you wish to proceed,” he quietly begged as he set down the heavy backpack and removed the utility belt. It wasn’t the first time he’d been here and easily began stripping down to his blacks.
You didn’t respond, using your toes to put pressure on each of your heels as you slipped out of the worn leather boots and made quiet footfalls to your bed, sitting on it as you looked out the window. The electrical storm your devices predicted would be starting any minute. Despite the more destructive tendency they had, you thoroughly enjoyed watching them - even if they knocked out the power temporarily from time to time.
Tech watched you from near the entryway, your legs tucked up near your chest as you stared out the window, chin resting on your knees. Following behind you he made his way to your bed, neglecting how uncertain it felt as he lowered himself onto the comfortable surface. Never having sat on it before, he was surprised the way he sank into the plush material of your duvet. Sitting at the end of the bed, while you had propped yourself up near the wall, there was still a sizable distance between you both.
“We don’t have to talk if you do not wish, but may I try something-” he asked and you nodded, not tearing your eyes away from the first few flashes of light.
Gentle hands pried your shoulders away from where your legs were pushed up, as he pulled you back with ease. Positioning his body between yours and the wall, Tech arranged you between his long legs, leaning you back once more onto his chest. Arms dancing along your waist, he wasn’t sure if he should fully hold you or allow you to just rest against him, but something internal told him that this position was appropriate given the circumstances.
You made the call for him, pulling his arms up across your chest, sinking back into him more, eyes drifting close momentarily as he brushed the hair from your right shoulder to over your left. Soon his nose found the back of your neck as he leaned into your body, picking up the faint hint of the perfume you must’ve applied there hours ago.
“I am sorry that you got caught in the crossfire between Cid, Roland and the Pykes,” he whispered against your skin.
“It’s Cid’s fault, not yours,” you whisper, enjoying the way his exhales felt against the delicate skin of your neck. He doesn’t speak immediately, pulling you tighter to his chest as you feel his heartbeat along your back.
“Had we not agreed to assist in stealing the spice to begin with, none of it would not have occurred the way in which it did,” Tech admitted the error in judgment which nearly cost you and Omega your lives.
“You were trying to help out Cid-” you tried to reason.
“Which would’ve destroyed me if you had gotten hurt due to my poor decision to do so,” he whispered.
“Why is that Tech?” you whisper back, eyes watching the electrical storm pick up outside the window.
Once again he let the silence linger. Nervous to speak or not wanting to hurt your feelings with his response - you couldn’t be quite sure. Turning slightly, so that your shoulder rested against his chest to look at his face for answers. With the reflection of the window you couldn’t see his eyes.
Deciding to be brave if he wasn’t, you lifted your hands, fingers probing the edges of the goggles that always adorned his face as you quietly asked, “may I?” He only nodded as you lifted them very carefully up and over his head, setting them down on the bed next to you. His eyes had closed when you started to lift them, so you had yet to see his eyes unobstructed. Not pushing him you turned back towards the window, allowing him to speak when he gathered the nerve.
“I don’t like the thoughts of you getting hurt because I-” he started to murmur once more, a baited breath entering your lungs and staying there as you waited for him to continue. The air stinging your lungs as you realized he had paused once more, softly blowing it back out past your lips as you repeated the action once more.
Tech gathered as much nerve as humanly possible. He could easily be thrust into high stress scenarios. Battles? No issues. Firefights with gangsters? He always had a plan. But when it came to you? He had no baseline to establish it from. Sure he had been intimate before with strangers when the opportunity presented itself. He found it to usually lead to an unsatisfying place in which he was pretending to be something he wasn’t. Usually forcing himself to touch them despite feeling repulsed at being that close with someone. But when he was in proximity to you things were different.
That spark of electricity often cited as being drawn out by a member of the opposite gender was present, catching him off guard every time your fingers crossed paths. He found your sweet aroma to be so intoxicating. The flash of your smile, utterly adorable. The face you made when you concentrated on a repair - where your tongue darted out of the corner of your full lips - to be nearly stunting. Everything about you he found captivating.
I care for you.
You almost didn’t hear him whisper it, as the volume was so minimal it barely passed over his lips audibly. Turning to face him once more, you saw the nervous eyes of a caged animal, finally unguarded by those yellow frames.
Brown. But not dark and unwavering like Hunters or tinged with the grayish hue of Echo’s. Wreckers one good eye had a more blue undertone and Omega’s were nearly hazel. But Tech - Tech’s resembled honey. His iris illuminated with each flash of lightning from outside the window. And then suddenly, with a bright flash, the power went out, leaving you both in the dark as you continued to remain in his arms. Only sound being the matching pair of unsteady breathing.
“Tech…?” you whispered, while he looked back down at your anticipating face.
“Yes?” Tech questioned, knots in his stomach as you hadn’t responded to his admission of caring for you.
“Would you do something for me?” you posed the question.
Tech was certain you were going to kick him out, despite the storm, or at the very least make him go downstairs to leave you alone. Your silence only told him that you were likely formulating a way to let him down gently because surely someone one like you wouldn’t want anything to do with him. He was a clone. Clones stole your promising future. He frequently was unaware how to speak to you. His frustrations occasionally came out poorly as his jealousy for your knowledge plagued his mind. His blunt nature, often at odds with your proper socialization. You were perfect and he was just a copy of a man who was long gone, and a relic of an army that had been corrupted.
Distracted by his racing mind he almost didn’t hear you whisper it at the conclusion of his small nod.
Kiss me.
Tech did a double take, his attention snapping to you as your eyes locked with his own. He couldn’t stop the lump that formed in his throat as your angelic eyes blinked up at him through your lashes. The distance between you insurmountable as, despite the seated position, he would always tower over you. His gangly limbs and narrow frame creating such a divergence between your sizes.
“You want me to-”
“Kiss me. Please.” You begged, eyes trying to catch his own to reassure him it is what you wanted.
You were growing concerned with the way his mind seemed to still be running astray. Perhaps he meant he cared for you in a similar way that he did Omega. Oh maker, what if he meant it that way. Suddenly you were glad the lights were off. That way he couldn’t see your crumbling self esteem and wavering confidence. You were certain when he spoke the way he had, paired with the many small moments mounting over the last months, that he liked you. Only now to realize he most likely hadn’t meant it in a non romantic way.
“Tech, I am so-” you began only to have his warm, ungloved hand find purchase on the side of your cheek, lips meeting yours in fury.
The first thing you noticed, when the shock wore off, was that his lips were so incredibly soft. How could a soldier, constantly on the run from danger, be this plush and inviting? That sharp wit and wise energy always spilling past these lips - the same ones that insulted you when you first met - now on your own in a heated embrace.
Soft sighs exiting your lips, entering his mouth as Tech opened his own to invite tongues to this lovely endeavor. He had hardly needed to caress your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue before you both fell into that wonderful song and dance of exploring each other’s mouths.
Breaking away due to the unfortunate need for air, you tried to see him the best you could with the limited lighting situation. His hand falling to the side of your neck instead of on your cheek, he pulled your forehead towards his, resting his nose against your own. Eyes searching yours for any sign to end this interaction.
“You are the most enchanting woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting,” he admitted with a small chuckle, almost embarrassed of the words falling out of his mouth. Surely they resembled the words of a love drunken fool, not a soldier and engineer such as himself. Perhaps that is because they came from his heart, not his logical mind.
“Please do that again,” you beg him, a smile working its way on your face as you trail a hand up his chest, finding stability by wrapping it around the back of his neck. Your breathing having leveled out from the heated exchange, just as he instigated another one.
This time, he didn’t wait to request entrance to your mouth, tongue slipping in almost immediately. As soon as he began kissing you once more, your hand traveled up into the brown locks that sat just against his collar, tangling in them, separating the obnoxious gel he insisted on using to keep it from matting inside his helmet. It made you long to see him first thing in the morning or right after getting out of the refresher - when his hair was wild and carefree.
That wasn’t the only thing that you wanted to come undone as he effortlessly pulled you from being on the bed in front of him into his lap, legs going around his thighs as you perched yourself against him. Tech’s wandering hands began as soon as your bottom left the bed, his large palm tracing over the skin of your clothed ass, caressing it before his fingers flexed, digging into the roundness as he groaned into your mouth.
Tech, despite his reservations for touching anyone, had always enjoyed the roundness of an ass under his feelings. Especially an unclothed one. His brothers, arguing for a pair of breasts as more appealing, but he would always remain on the team that supported his large hands grabbing the meat of an ass.
For someone so lanky, and much thinner than his brothers, Tech certainly had a hidden strength to his frame that you hadn’t anticipated. Briefly on display as he lifted you into his lap with ease, he continued to further prove his ability as his demanding hands found your hips and squeezed, bicep flexing as your free hand landed on his left arm.
You aren’t sure what possessed you to do it either, but breaking away from his lips as you trailed kisses over his cheekbones until you found the skin of his earlobe, nibbling it between your teeth all while he groaned. Watching the always poised and put together pilot turn to putty under your mouth and body, making that wet spot of arousal in your undergarments grow by the second.
As you continued to trail the nipping to his neck, you mumbled out something about his shirt being in the way, fingers reaching under the top near his lower back as you tried in vain to remove it from his body. Pulling back, since he had developed that unexplainable sense of urgency at your kissing, he stripped it away with skilled ease, tossing it to the floor with reckless abandon.
It was odd. When he normally removed the parts of his armor in your flat, they were carefully and methodically unlatched and organized in a neat pile. Now, rocking into his lap as you stared down into his wild eyes, the dynamic propelled into a direction you never could’ve dreamed. Something in the pair of you had shifted from just awkwardly maneuvering around each other to actively lighting that fuse within your bodies.
He didn’t allow you the chance to examine his unclothed top however, as he quickly reattached your lips to his, pulling you closer as his head tipped ever so slightly to the side, accommodating the clashing of teeth and tongues in the fury. Still anxious to know exactly what he was like under that thick black suit or vest he always wore, you allowed your fingers to act as your eyes in the moment, all while getting such a lovely taste of his mouth while you exhaled through your nose which was harshly pressed against his cheek from the intensity the kisses you’d both developed.
Your hands trailed along his flamed but extremely solid body. Fingers finding purchase along the defined lines of his chest, and the valley that separated two pectorals that were much harsher than you would’ve anticipated given his much thinner frame. Sliding down, that same hand counted six definite sections in his abdomen as well, as you removed your lips from his in hast to such a much needed breath of air while your mind stilled.
Eyes finally seeing just how wonderful tanned skin of a soldier could be, you enjoyed the lovely view of dark hair trailing down just below his navel and into tight pants. The nearly vacant patch of hair along his chest meaning he either removed it or didn’t have it wasn’t a bother - you didn’t really love overly hairy men any way - as you gasp. He was the perfect blend of scars, moles, muscles, and… tattoos?
The chuckle that tore from your throat at the sight of black ink along his skin, was met with that ever so quizzical eyebrow as he flushed at your laugh.
“I must admit that laughter at the sight of one’s nakedness does not instill confidence,” he noted as you shook your head.
“I hadn’t expected you to have tattoos, it was more of a shock than a jest,” you comment, sliding back ever so slightly while remaining on his lap to get a good view.
“Why would you assume I would refrain from body modifications? You have seen Hunter’s face, and you’ve heard me mention our brother Crosshair-” he started as you placed your index finger along the seam of his lip, effectively silencing him with a sultry stare and the simple action.
“You just seem so much more straight laced than your brothers, I hadn’t expected you to cover yourself in something as trivial as artwork. But, that being said, I can’t help but find it so incredibly alluring…” you lean down to the simple ‘99’ tattooed along the same shoulder his armor detailed a similar marking, lips familiarizing yourself with the lines as you pulled back.
“I can assure you, despite my reserved nature, I am hardly straight laced, as you say,” he quipped, relinquishing the time he allowed you to study the marks in his bronze skin. He’d let you examine them some other time, possibly even with explanations of their origins. Right now, he was growing impatient.
Pulling you forward by the back of your neck, he changed his mind at the last moment, deciding that your collar bones sticking out of the shifted top you wore looked delectable, sucking them between his teeth as you squirmed along his lap once more. Satisfied with the mark it left in his wake, Tech found himself in your sex-hazed gaze once more.
“Tell me that you wish for this to continue. Please. I am not sure I can find it in myself to behave like a gentleman if you wish to stop much further than this,” he groaned, voice strained by a tone you had never heard from him. Tech’s voice was quite different from his brothers. The husky tone he now used, reminiscent of a crackling campfire as it came from the back of his throat, and laced itself into a pleasured groan.
“Please. I want this- I want you,” came your whisper into his jaw, lips grazing the sharp bone there.
I want you.
Tech couldn’t remember a time he was truly wanted. Usually his hookups stemmed from mutual boredom or someone realizing his brothers weren’t interested in them. A system of happenstance, of convenience of simple chance and mutual need for release. But to be told that he was desired, and that an intimate connection was wanted with someone he actually cared for on a personal level? A first.
And as for you, you wouldn’t admit it out loud but things certainly got lonely on Ord Mantell. Those friends on Coruscant slowly lost interest once you departed, leaving you with just Cid and acquaintances. The rest of your time alone in a dingy workshop or flat hidden away from the world. That was until Tech and the others came around. He brought a sense of belonging you hadn’t known. He brought company you’d been craving. He made you feel seen, appreciated and cared for.
He brought his hand up under your shirt and bra to cup your breast.
One of the first things you had noticed about him, all those rotations ago, was how long and dexterous his whole body was, but particularly his hands. Fingers so thin and nimble, wound with callouses, scars and distinguishable marks from his times tinkering. It had been rare to see him without gloves, but that barrier’s first time being removed showed just truly how captivating such a mundane body part could be.
These were the hands of a soldier. A man bred specifically for war. These were the hands of a pilot, who’s tight grip upon the steering wheel had saved thousands of lives. These were the hands of a fellow engineer and mechanic who understood the complexities of how your mind worked. These were the hands of a man who cared for you.
And those hands currently were squeezing your nipple with the perfect amount of firmness to make you purr.
Deciding that the only thing in the world you wished for right now was the feeling of his chest on your unclothed one, you pulled back, hands finding the bottom of your top as you flung it just as unceremoniously as he had done with his own. Tech wasted no time in finding the latches on your bra, unhooking the material and tossing it to the side as his hands finally held the weight of both your breasts within him.
Despite his larger than normal hand size, your breasts fit inside his palms like a perfect handful, while his thumbs continue that onslaught along your nipples, his lips finding that wonderful spot below your ear that makes you breathe heavily.
Your own hands, still running through his caramel locks while he worked your body with such expertise, tugging every now and again as he groaned against your neck between kisses and leaving smaller marks that would likely fade in only a few hours.
“Are you adequately protected?” came the husky question into your jaw, followed by another nip.
“Implant…” you hummed out, head falling to the side to accommodate his mouth as he snickered slightly in response.
Lifting you from his lap with no warning, Tech’s fingers found the latches of your pants with no problem, undoing them and tugging them down your legs as you wobbled from where you stood on the floor. Once they were lowered enough, Tech abruptly stood next to you, steading your arm as you stepped out of them, his feet stepping on the trousers in order to help you remove them easily.
Your face turned to meet his own, his body towering over your own as he looked down at you. Despite the full head’s distance between you both, and the darkness of the flat with the power being knocked out, you could still see the way his eyes darted from your full, unclothed breasts to the newly revealed skin of your legs.
One of his hands found purchase along your chin, tipping your face up even higher as you rose along your tiptoes to match his height the best you could. His other hand started along your mid back, trailing down until he found your panty clad rear, rubbing along the now exposed right cheek.
“Would you allow me to take charge here Mesh’la?” He asked gently, his hand still caressing your skin reverently, but despite the unexpected softness of the words and actions, you felt that with the look he gave you there was something more. Something almost predatory in his eyes.
“What does that mean?” you ask, unable to shake the curiosity at his use of the language you presumed to be Mando’a.
“Such an inquisitive mind you have…” he chuckled, using the hand on your chin to move your face to the side. Your eyes drifted close as he pressed a sweet his to the side of your face, trailing down more until he reached your ear. “I can’t get enough of that mind of yours,” he admitted, nibbling your earlobe once before continuing, hand tightening around your ass as the tone shifted. “Beautiful. It means beautiful. Which is exactly what you are, my mirdala girl…” he whispered so gently as he pulled back, hand dropping as he wound them both around your lower back.
“You keep using words I do not understand, and you have to realize I will continue to ask what they mean,” you tease with a small smile, hands finding his shoulders as you lock yourself in the embrace. Tech still had on trousers and you only had on underwear, but something about the stillness of it all, yet with contradictory the electrical storm raging outside, was strangely peaceful. Tearing clothes off one another and jumping into bed was one thing, but this, this was building towards something much more intimate.
“Clever. I called you my clever girl,” he nods your direction, fingers trailing up and down the expanse of your exposed back ever so slightly.
“Ah,” you thrum out as your lips tug at the corner into a small smirk, barely visible in the low lighting. “Your clever girl? I wasn’t aware you had claimed me. Sounds a bit possessive don’t you think?”
“I suppose it could be considered possessive, although I do not see you running away from the notion. I am to assume that not only are you fine with that, but based on the way your grip in my hair has just tightened and your pupils have dilated, that you want that. That you want me to claim you in some way,” he notes, and you realize he is correct. His attunement to your body language is uncanny as you hadn’t realized you had done so. Unable to form a response, you nod gently.
“If you wish for me to stop, at any point, all you need to do is say so. Do you understand,” Tech let one hand fall from your back, reaching for his belt and once again you nodded, causing him to pause.
“Verbally. I want verbal consent. You can do that for me right my clever girl?” he used the phrase once again and you shuttered. Something about the way his voice dribbled with arousal in the fact he found your mind to be brilliant brought forth a surge of confidence.
“Yes. I trust you Tech,” you speak calmly and clearly despite the shaking in your hands. Anticipation building to the point your body could not contain the excitement of what he had planned.
You barely caught the smirk on his thin lips before he gripped your hips and spun you around, pushing your back down as you got the memo, laying yourself across the bed as you heard the sound of the belt buckle being undone and pants abruptly being shoved to the floor.
Once again his hands resumed that gentle and reverant stroking along your backside as a hum spilled from his lips. Looking back over your shoulder you saw such a glorious sight. Tech’s hands wrapped around his length as he stroked it slightly with one hand while holding your ass in the other. He glanced up from your bottom to make eye contact briefly as he took his bottom lip under straight white teeth.
Pausing momentarily he saw the thin scrap of underwear disappearing between your lower cheeks and decided now was a good time to rid you of the offending material, grabbing them and tugging them down slightly until they landed near your knees, allowing you to step out of them.
His hand resumed its position on your body, but this time, it gently nudged you up onto the bed, and you complied with his nonverbal request, positioning your body just slightly up on the bed as you held yourself up on your knees. From behind you could hear the way Tech sucked in a breath between his clenched teeth as his hand found that spot along your backside once more.
You had deduced early in this exchange of kissing that he likely was a man who preferred a bottom to breasts. Most men had a likeness to one over the other, and Tech was no different. The knowledge made you feel proud, arching your back ever so slightly as if to present it to him in the most appealing way you could given the position.
“You look so wonderful like this. I wish you weren’t behaving so nicely, so I would have an excuse to bring my hand down on you and mark you right here. However I would feel guilty doing such actions when you are being so perfect,” he admitted and you smiled at the wall, glancing back over your shoulder at him.
“Who said you can’t anyway. I hardly need to be a brat in order for you to spa-” you began the permission and he quickly resolved himself to take it the second you had granted it. The smack, not nearly as hard as you were anticipating but still firm, filling the air and stopping your sentence midway as you let out a squeak at the contact.
Your biceps flexing as you locked your arms to maintain your position on the bed, holding yourself up as his hand soothed the red flushed skin with care and attention. Tracing the hand up, you felt him rest it along your upper back as his fingers hooked over your shoulder, and near your knees you felt the mattress dip ever so slightly.
Tech covered the expanse of your back with his body, his left arm coming up to the side of you as he braced himself up just hovering over your back, his right hand moving to brush your hair over your shoulder so that his nose could trace along your upper back. You could feel his eyelashes fluttering along the skin of your shoulder blades as he lowered his mouth to kiss your back a few times gently.
“So pliable for me…” he praised as he continued to issue praise in the form of tender kisses that slowly made their way ending with your sweat-dampened temple.
Tech had always had sexual relationships from behind. There was an impersonal attitude that came with engaging in the act similarly to the way animals did. Not seeing the woman’s face, and only focusing on the connection of his body with theirs - it made him feel less awkward about the exchange. But something about the way his body caved around yours felt right. He was touching your body with his own almost completely, and he nearly fainted when he realized that he was enjoying the contact. Instead of feeling overwhelmed by the damp nature both your bodies had developed in the precursor to intercourse, he felt delighted knowing he’d caused such reactions. So against every previous metric in his mind for engaging in sexual relations, he manuvored your body to your back, so that you could stare up at him as he lowered himself on top of you.
Tech wasn’t sure how to quantify the way his stomach began to flutter at the way you stared at him, nor the way your velvety skin along his felt, other than bliss. Something about the intimacy shook him to the core. It made him want to come undone and he hadn’t even slid into you yet.
You were surprised as his ability to be tender, as his index finger pushed the hair back from your face, cupping the back of your neck to lift it from the pillow as he pulled the longer strands of your hair - which you’d uncomfortably been laying on - above and around your face like a halo. How he’d realized you were slightly uncomfortable with the tugging caused by your back, you’d never know, but you’d be grateful for long after this exchange nonetheless.
“I’ve never met someone who had made me experience what I am feeling at this present moment,” he admitted, his nose leaning down as he gently caressed your own. Keeping it there, his forehead soon pressed against your own as his eyes searched yours for a reply.
“What are you feeling?” you whisper, eyes focusing on his right iris as the pupil waivered slightly larger before he continued speaking.
“Bliss. Euphoria. Revelry. Perhaps those are words that I could use to quantify it, and yet-” Tech began, hand searching for yours as you allowed him to wrap his fingers around yours while you stared at him expectantly. Your legs widening to accommodate him as you feel his tip slide between your folds and line up expertly with your hole. You are uncertain what he is trying to say, and in all honesty it appears that he is as well. His eyes drift close as, in a rare turn of events, his body wins out over his mind, and he presses within you before completing his thought. You can’t stop the way your eyes flutter shut at the feeling, no point in remaining open if his own are closed anyway.
You had expected him to slide in slowly, as his sweet words and actions leading to this point had been cautious almost, but instead he is direct in the way his cock slides into you as if it’s coming home. As if he’s returning to a place he was always meant to be. The stretch is gone in an instant as he plows into you abruptly at first, but pausing as he reaches the entrance of your womb with his tip. “They do not come close to describing the way I feel right now,” he whispered, making your eyes fly open once more as you stare up at him.
You have died and gone to the afterlife. The Pykes most certainly killed you and left you in an alley on Ord Mantell. That is the only logical explanation for the way you were feeling. The only thing you can do is affectionately tighten your grip on your joined hands as you raise your hips slightly, giving him permission to move.
Tech didn’t need to be encouraged twice, sliding in and out of you with joy as he held himself up with one of his arms. Your head falling back into the pillow as you lose yourself between his calculated thrusts, he decides that not being able to look into your eyes while he continues to make himself at home within your body isn’t what he wants.
You feel his grip slipping from your hand and anticipate it will go to your breasts for a playful tug, but when you feel his fingers on your jaw, pulling your face back you once again look up at him, curiously.
“I. Want. To. See. Your. Eyes. On. Me.” he commands and you feel a shiver that starts near your neck and travels the length of your body as you nod, legs widening even further as he picks up the pace ever so slightly.
His hand abandons your chin as he places it along your side, raising your body at the hips so you can meet his thrusts, your eyes staring deeply into his own. Tech had surprised even himself in demanding to see you staring at him while he plowed into you, but something about watching your face as he pushed you both in the direction of release made him feel a pride he’d never known before. With each lewd noise coming from where you were joined, to each whimper or sigh leaving your lips, to the sweat he felt along his brow from exertion - he felt more of that blossoming heat in his stomach at the passion between your bodies.
You feel similarly, as you wrap your legs around his thin waist, holding him there so that your union is only intensified and he can reach that absolutely tender spot within your walls that becomes electric when he begins to repeatedly stimulate it over and over again with his steady thrusts. “Tech…” you whimpered as he continued his movement, no external indications that he is approaching orgasm, despite the fact it is true.
“Say my name again, please-” he whimpers as you nod, once again saying his name while he pushes inside of you especially hard, a yell tearing from your throat as your hips chant up after his retreat, wanting another harsh thrust. He delivers it immediately, his body pushing you into the bed as he begins frantically diving into you with reckless abandon.
“Where?” he demands, your hips held in his hand as his fingers squeeze harshly. You can tell he’s close now, the fire in his eyes doing nothing to dull the flames of desire that both of your bodies are feeling as he plunges into your warmth.
“Inside-” you give him the permission and once again he does not hesitate to take it, his hand abandoning your waist in order to rub feverish circles upon your clit so that you approach orgasm the same time he does. Your voice calls out his name loudly as you feel every nerve ending within your body set ablaze. He responds to you, chanting yours in response as he pushes his load so deeply within your walls you gasp at the way his tip quivers against the opening of your womb. You feel the throbbing inside until he slows to a stop, body collapsing on top of yours as you both gasp for air.
His breathing, erratic against your neck as you push his now half gelled and half wild hair off his forehead while you slow your heart rate the best you can. He’s growing soft within you, but you can tell that even while flaccid he’s still larger than the average man. Tech eventually pulls back from your neck, eyes searching for yours as his hand cups the side of your face lovingly.
“You are incredible,” he comments kindly as you blush, feeling as he begins to slip from within you, his spill landing somewhere on the covers below you. You don’t really care. You can clean it later.
“So are you,” you return the compliment as he smiles, leaning in to kiss you once more, this time only using his lips in order to show affection not reignite the passion of your endeavor.
“Yes, but I was genetically engineered that way. You have come by your splendor naturally,” Tech replies as you laugh, lights immediately flickering back on as you both startle at the suddenness of seeing each other without the dulled darkness of your flat.
“That is one way to put it. Still doesn’t make you any less wonderful Tech,” you tell him, immediately feeling more self conscious with the added light. This becomes something he notices almost immediately, as he leans up to get a better view of you. Your body was covered in small love bites and a few bruises from where he’d gripped a bit too hard. Lips swollen from his kisses and sweat covering all of you. Hair disheveled and yet - you looked like the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“And I thought you were lovely in the twilight, but my dear you look positively exquisite,” he encourages you as he lowers his mouth to your brow before kisses between your eyebrows and then over each closed eyelid.
“Such a way with words,” you say sweetly and he immediately begins snickering as you blink confused at his outburst.
“If I recall, the first time we met, I insulted your ability to fix Cid’s gambling device” he reminds her. It seemed so long ago he had done that, and from then you had only grown closer. Finding a mutual understanding. Finding friendship. Finding the beginnings of love.
“You did,” you scoff at the memory.
“I remember crawling under the control panel and when you yelped, thinking that I thought I was going to stop breathing,” Tech admits and you are surprised.
“What do you mean?”
“I just couldn’t help but think that I had suddenly found myself in close proximity with a very beautiful woman. And that feeling only intensified once I discovered your love of engineering. Since then it’s grown to a point I find it distracting,” Tech explains and you smile.
“Oh so you really like me then,” you chide, almost childishly as he rolls his eyes at your antics.
“I believe the fact that my seed is actively leaking out of you to be sufficient proof as to my interest in you,” he bluntly states. You grimace looking down at the sheer quantity of said mess. It was more than you realized.
“Would you like to get in the refres-”
“Yes,” he cuts you off abruptly as you laugh. You figured he wouldn’t enjoy being unclean. He lifts his body off of you with ease and holds out a hand to help you rise from the bed.
“I am going to want a full detailed report on all of these,” you tell him, finger tracing one of the tattoos on his shoulder.
“I believe I can arrange that,” he chides with a small peck to your forehead, pulling you along to the small shower stall your flat has.
As he walks just ahead of you, you can’t help but think that this blossoming romance might have been worth the emergency landing on Ord Mantell all those years ago.
The end.
#the bad batch fandom#the bad batch tech#tech the bad batch#the bad batch#bad batch#tech#tech tbb#tbb tech#sw tbb#sw the bad batch#tbb#star wars#star wars the bad batch#clone force 99#let tech fuck#the bad batch fanfiction#tech fanfic#ns/fw#tech bad batch#tbb omega#tbb hunter#tbb wrecker#the bad batch wrecker#the bad batch omega#tbb echo
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FYI, this was inspired by all the Mr. Puzzles fanart where he has a tail, but this was written because I kept thinking that tail should be bitten at least once, if not more.
Hence this one shot that went a little off the rails as I wrote it.
Summary:
You want to bite that tail every time you see it. Mr. Puzzles decides to let you sate your curiosity.
Note 1:
Fyi, Suggestive content; implied things happen after this gremlin reader/mc bites the tail a bit too much and riles Mr. Puzzles up.
Note 2:
This’ll also go on ao3 too, but that one will be edited out more than this one is. (As such, beware of any typos here, as I hammered this out all on my phone and edited it here too). But I needed to get it out of my mind so I can work on other wips.
I would consider this crossing over from a T rating to an M on ao3, and kind of like that here, but maybe not quite. Ugh (tumblr messes with what is too far or not when being suggestive content)
-
You were excited to finally be sate your curiosity over Mr. Puzzles tail: a thin whip of a cord that ended with a cute two prong plug tail tip.
“Why are you looking at me like that, my dear?”
This was too good an opportunity to pass up.
“What are you thinking?”
“How did you get stuck in the window like that?” You asked, instead of answering the tv headed man’s questions. You eyed the way the window was closed down near Puzzles’ neck, the space on either side open. But not enough to allow him to shove his hands beneath to lever the window up enough to allow his boxy tv head back inside the house.
“My hands might have been taped to the wall, in a timeout sort of manner, to keep me from interrupting Smg4 recording his new episode.” Mr. Puzzles eventually grumbled sourly. His expression flickered to interest when you approached him and leaned over to plant a kiss directly to his screen. A flustered static followed when you reached up to toy with both his antenna, pinching and squeezing them at different intervals.
“Oh.” Puzzles uttered as he pressed his head into your touch. “Not that…that I mind this, but would you…free my hands first?” The tv headed man’s voice muffled itself as you pressed a few more kisses to his screen. His screen lost any expression at all when you promptly bit each antenna, causing the screen to dance with horizontal static before Puzzles was able to bring his face back. A blissful expression, as he moaned something softly before pleading nonsense when you suddenly went to petting the edge of his screen instead of his antenna.
“You know what I want right now?” You whispered close to the side of Mr. Puzzles’ head.
“Hm?”
“Your tail.”
“My-ah.” Puzzles’ whole frame jerked, from the way his head attempted to shove backward through the window, only to be stopped and held in place by the mainly closed window. Mr. Puzzles tilted his head a little, a shy expression on his screen, matching his tone. “You really do stare at my tail a lot. Do you…want to hold and pet it?”
“I would like to do that.” You agreed, sliding your hands to the underside of Mr. Puzzles’ tv head, gently scritching your fingertips on the metal, drawing a delightful shiver and bringing up a happy face on the man’s screen. “But do you know what I’d also like to do?”
“That would be-wait.” Mr. Puzzles’ dawning realization was cute, since you didn’t even say anything yet. The little scowl was funny when paired with the heartbeat lines and blush. “You want to bite it, don’t you?”
“Yes.” You don’t see any reason to lie; you wanted your boyfriend to be on board with the idea, and if he really wasn’t, you’d not press for it again.
“I don’t see what’s so interesting about biting someone’s tail like a gremlin.” Mr. Puzzles huffed out. “I really don’t see the appeal.”
It wasn’t exactly a no, but not quite a yes either.
You test the thought by letting go of Mr. Puzzles’ tv head and casually walking into the house, and entering the room the man had himself caught in the windowsill of.
“What are you doing?” Mr. Puzzles voice was muffled a tad, his hands and part of his forearms (duct taped to the wall) flexing in their temporary bonds. The man was kneeling in front of the window, though his shoulders were hunched lower, and the man’s thin cord tail could be seen loosely curled around one leg, the plug tail tip twitching back and forth.
“I wanted to hold and pet your tail.” You reach over to pat Mr. Puzzles between the shoulder blades. “If that’s all you can handle, then that’s all I’d like to do with you right now, before I help you get out of your window predicament.” You watched as the cord tail slowly unwound to hang down to the floor, where it slowly swished back and forth. You watched the motions raptly, fingers itching to seize the tail, but waited to hear what Mr. Puzzles had to say about your words.
“I-“ The tv headed man paused, quiet, before he spoke in a rather breathy way. “I would like you to start out with just petting my tail gently. I can see how that feels, and let you know if I can handle more.”
“I can do that.” You agreed, your main goal of being able to just touch the tail achieved. “I’ll be careful and not yank it. Unless you want me to.”
It was always interesting to hear Mr. Puzzles make a choked noise, considering his neck was mainly wires and bone-no throat to actually choke on anything.
When there were no other words, you stepped forward, loud enough to allow Mr. Puzzles to hear where you were. But instead of seizing the tail, you worked your fingers into Puzzles hunched shoulders until they relaxed a bit. Satisfied, you trailed your hands down his spine, then Puzzles’ sides, where you gave his ridiculously thin waist a playful squeeze.
Mr. Puzzles pressed backwards into the touch with a low growl over the way you were teasing him instead of petting his tail.
Feeling bold, you slapped his ass, drawing out a scandalized noise followed by a low growl with static.
“Be careful of the game you play, my dear, lest I find a way to turn it in my favor.”
You couldn’t help shiver in response to the promise of Mr. Puzzles freeing himself. To sweep you off your feet to lavish you with static kisses and touches to within the inch of your life, should you push a bit too far in your ‘game’ of teasing.
The tail lightly thwacked into your right shin before curling around the ankle with a light squeeze.
You grasped the tail near where it poked out of Mr. Puzzles’ trousers, then sat down close enough to the man so he didn’t have to let go of your ankle quite yet.
It was a thin, long and flexible tail.
Oddly enough, it was warm; its texture reminding you of a vacuum’s cord.
Sliding the gray-black tail through your fingers, you made your way down to your right ankle where the tail tip was twitching. You curiously ran a finger over the two-metal prong at the end while holding the middle of the tail.
Mr. Puzzles sucked in an unnecessary breath.
“Too much?” You asked, moving your finger to the tail tip just above the prongs.
“It’s fine.” Mr. Puzzles uttered, voice layered in static.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” A slow breath. “Keep going.”
You spent some time running your fingers along the tail, Mr. Puzzles’ body sagging into the wall and window the longer your touch continued. When he seemed relaxed enough, you wound your fingers around the tail and slid your other hand firmly down to the part looped around your ankle.
Mr. Puzzles’ let out a static moan this time, the end of the pronged tail-tip slowly wagging back and forth.
With a curious hum, you let your hand slide down the twined cord around your ankle harder, and then tweaked the prong plug.
Your tv headed boyfriend’s frame sagged even further than before but also attempted to hide the way he was attempting to grind himself against the wall. You reach up to slap that fine ass again, causing Mr. Puzzles to pause mid-hump with a distracted groan before he resumed his absent pressing into the wall.
“Hey Puzzles.” You carefully lean over to unwind the end of the man’s tail from around your ankle. Then, you dug your fingers into the last few inches of the tail to drag along to the tail-tip.
“Yes?” Strained, shaky voice.
“Need some help?” You asked, curling your fingers around the cord tail’s end, absently thumbing the metal of the tail-tip prongs.
“No.” Mr. Puzzles’ voice dropped to that low almost-growl, his arms flexing against the duct tape over his wrists and part of his forearms with more vigor. Then, a hint of excitement rose up, hidden behind a sigh of theatrical disinterest. “I thought you were going to do something…more than pet my tail?”
“I don’t recall now.” You sighed in return, giving the tail you’d further curled around your fingers a slight tug.
Puzzles muttered something.
“What was that?”
“Must I say it?” Mr. Puzzle’s dramatically sighed again.
“If you actually want me to, yes.” You said, toying with the tail-tip as you gave a firm rub to its end and metal prong. “Otherwise, I think I’m content petting and rubbing your tail like this with you squirming around while trying to hump a hole in the wall.”
“Bite my tail already!” Mr. Puzzles burst out, along with an exasperated sound as his fingertips dug into the wall. “Must you tease me so?”
“You didn’t sound so married to the idea before.” You felt obligated to point out as you slowly unwound Mr. Puzzles wiggling tail from your fingers.
A very low, static-squeak-sounded, along with tiny, bare whisper that almost sounded like ‘I’d marry you in a heartbeat, my dear’ covered up by Mr. Puzzles scoffing at you.
“You’ve been so curious that I felt I may as indulge you, so you can see that it isn’t all that interesting to-“ Puzzles cut himself off with a very strangled gasp when you hefted the slender tail and bit down experimentally on the cord texture of it.
“Puzzles?” You quickly let go and reach over to rest a hand on Mr. Puzzles’ nearest leg, as he’d begun to tremble. “Are you okay?” You felt a blush heat your face up at the filthy moan that dragged itself out of the tv headed man as his arm’s struggle against the duct tape increased.
“Do it again.” Mr. Puzzles pressed his palms flat to the wall, his tail curving to prod you in the shoulder. “Please.”
You think the man cracked some of the glass with a frequency you couldn’t hear when while you bit a line down the tail, then lingered to bite with your molars against the (luckily) sturdy cord. There was a faint static, but it was nothing compared to Mr. Puzzles’ static zaps when he kissed you.
When Mr. Puzzles began to scrabble his hands at the wall and succeeded in freeing his wrists and forearms, he didn’t reach back for you. The man lifted the window up enough to shove his arms through, and detached his head, from the sound of it.
Uh-oh.
Biting his tail apparently made Puzzles’ horniness quickly rise.
You proceeded to lightly bite Mr. Puzzles’ tail from where it poked out of his trousers and all the way down to the tail tip, but not the metal prongs. While you made your way down the thin tail, Mr. Puzzles body jerked in response to the different pressure from your bites and gnawing, and the way you squeezed and gripped the tail you’d already nipped.
Puzzles’ arms suddenly lifted back up as the man shuffled himself backward as he eased his shoulders away from the windowsill, and then his wired neck.
The head was missing as Mr. Puzzles’ body snapped around in an alarming motion as he lunged for you with aid from the end of his tail swiftly looping around your wrist.
One large hand pressed down on your shoulder as you were forced backward, the other large hand cupping the back of your head so you didn’t smack it against the floor. You felt the hand on your head trail through your hair while the other moved from your shoulder to beneath your upper back.
You were confused why Mr. Puzzles was lifting you up, to hold you in a firm hug to his chest while he carded his fingers through your hair a moment
A low, devious chuckle sounded from outside the window.
With a gasp, you were spun about and taken over to the window. You were none too subtly indicated to sit down while Mr. Puzzles’ body went over to the window. He was apparently impatient, and instead of just closing the window, Mr. Puzzles tore the flimsy window out (as well as the frame) and just tossed it aside, leaving behind a large hole in the wall.
That was kinda hot, if inconvenient.
You laughed anyway out of surprise, figuring out where this was going, when you were gently brought to your feet again, only to be shoved forward to rest your arms on the now-open space where the window used to be. Looking down, you see Mr. Puzzles’ tv head wearing an eager expression, one that allowed his digital eyes to appear as though they were gazing right into yours. The technicolor smilie flickered into a smug one.
“I believe you’ve had your fun with your little game of biting my tail.” Mr. Puzzles expression went to a slightly unhinged, if eager one, as his body dropped to kneel behind where you’d hunkered down, legs on either side of yours, boxing you further in.
Thankfully the wall the window frame had sat on, was low enough that it wasn’t hell on your arms to rest on it, careful of the splinters from the now-missing window.
“Let’s play one of my own, since you love your teasing so much.” Mr. Puzzles hands trailed down along your sides in the aforementioned teasing, his touch light and taunting until he was able to get you riled up as well.
Then, suddenly, Mr. Puzzles knee walked his body even closer to trap you snugly against the wall and the hole in the wall above. Puzzles rested his arms on either side of yours, and wrapped his hands around your wrists to absently pet along your fingers and wrist.
Wriggling uselessly in place didn’t do much, nor did the half-assed begging. It merely got Mr. Puzzles’ headless body nuzzling the side of your neck with his, while the man’s tv head reflected smugness at teasing you so.
You’d not told him to stop, because you were waiting to see if you’d get a chance to turn the tables, however briefly.
“Are you growing bored of the game, my dear?” Mr. Puzzles asked, mistaking your expression with one of boredom instead of calculation. “Would you like to end the teasing and move on to something more…fun?”
You kept your eyes on Puzzles face as you gave a nod, nuzzling into the man’s neck in return.
“I do so enjoy these little games, don’t get me wrong. But I very much would like to just hold you in my arms.” Mr. Puzzles’ screen briefly switched to a soft expression, before instantly snapping to playful, intent look. His tail just so happened to curve beneath your chin. “Perhaps after we wear one another first?”
You couldn’t resist; the moment that tail slid from chin to cheek to caress your skin, with Mr. Puzzles firmly holding your wrists, you had to. If he thought your hands were the problem, the man had forgotten you could lunge perfectly fine in this position. You don’t give Puzzles time to react as you suddenly lean your head forward and open your mouth to neatly bite down. You felt the convulsion of Mr. Puzzles’ body ad you lightly grind your teeth agaisnt the tail.
No matter how hard he tried, Mr. Puzzles couldn’t hide that having that kind of pressure on his tail was something especially sensitive.
“Oh, you’re not done playing?” Mr. Puzzles screen had breifly fizzed out before returning with a grin and a challenging look in those digital eyes. “You don’t think I can win when all you have is a little mouthful of my tail?”
Right before Mr puzzles could let go of your wrists to rub those large hands all over you again, you quickly shifted and, like it was spaghetti, managed to suck in the small bit of the tail poking out nearest your mouth.
The tail tip.
It gave you a nice little zap, but nothing that would hurt you.
Mr. Puzzles’ face briefly dissolved into bands of static, only for the screen to snap a closed eyed, pleasured one as he let out a soft, needy moan.
You curiously ran your tongue along the prongs, and then attempted to suck on the cord and tail-tip like it was a popsicle.
Mr. Puzzles made a sputter then a keening sound that had him plaster his body into yours as he convinced and shuddered in pleasure.
You snerked around the limp tail in your mouth in disbelief before opening it. The tail end dropped limply over one of Mr. Puzzles arms, only to slowly slide off to make a soft thump on the floor as Puzzles himself sagged heavily into you. A quick glance to Mr. Puzzles’ tv head showed his logo and a ‘please stand by’.
Okay then.
Tail biting and sucking on it like it was another body part equaled very sensitive (had that been an orgasm?)
Neat.
You squirmed out from under Mr. Puzzles’ sated body and hopped out the now-hole in the side of the house to kneel near your boyfriend’s tv head.
The screen flickered to test card patterns.
Wow.
You must’ve gotten him real good. You’d have to do that again sometime, if he liked it that much.
Mr. Puzzles’ face returned with a relaxed smile and calm eyes, before he noted where you were, smirking down at him in triumph. Immediately Puzzles showed off that unhinged smile with matching digital eyes, silently promising to return the favor, only for you to distract him. By planting rapid kisses on his screen with soft crackling static agaisnt your lips.
Mr. Puzzles’ expression went from mock anger to heart eyes with a blush and a heartbeat with an incredibly happy smile.
“You owe me a new window.” You said, matter of fact as you patted the side of Mr. Puzzles head. Your hand lingered, before you drew it away. In a good mood, you skipped off, as if pretending to leave Mr. Puzzles behind to sort himself out.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
You broke into a run from the sight (peeking over your shoulder) of Mr. Puzzles’ headless body crawling out of the hole in the house, feeling around for his tv head and then sticking head back when it belonged. When he broke into a long-legged run that was going to allow him to catch up quickly, you found yourself paying attention to where you were running instead of the man chasing you down.
“I do believe we have unfinished business, my dear!” Mr. Puzzles called out, sounding eager to catch up and get his hands on you.
“But it looks like you already finished your business.” You dare to call over your shoulder as you rush into your backyard, thinking to loop around and go through to the front door.
Mr. Puzzles caught up, however, dashing your half-assed plan. He easily tossed you over one of his shoulders, and with a low, eager chuckle (so as to not drag any attention from neighbors) opened up the storm hatch door that led into the house’s cellar basement. After stepping down the stairs, with you playfully trying to fight him to get off his shoulder, Mr. Puzzles reached up. He pointedly, and slowly, closed the hatch door while letting out some ‘evil’ laughter.
You were quite happy to be able to have another go at Mr. Puzzles tail, once you reached the basement bedroom. It wasn’t long before he ended up wearing the both of you with such careful attention to your body in particular, his tail sliding along your skin tauntingly.
The bedroom was quiet, apart from your breathing and Mr. Puzzles’ almost purr from the speakers in his tv head, while he sleepily held you close to him beneath the covers to cuddle.
-
tbh this was the gif I was thinking of when Mr. Puzzles closes the cellar/storm hatch door or whatever at the end of this
#screams in writing writes#a one shot with mr puzzles having a tail#tw suggestive#more than a few previous ones were#Ao3 one gonna be a bit more spicy#reader x
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Jackunzel Animatic: Wherever You Are
Hi fellow Jackunzel shippers! I have something exciting to share!! I just made an animatic for Jackunzel. You can watch here: https://youtu.be/V8ey7SKI9_8
And a little preview:
Please give it a like and share if you could, it would really make my dreams come true to have more people watch my creations! <3
Anyways heavy texts below if you're interested to hear my ramblings thoughts while making this animatic: (Contains a little spoiler if you haven't watched the animatic yet so go watch it right now! Hehe)
This idea came to me in January 2023, when I heard the song 'Wherever You Are' by Kodaline. It was about finding each other and I related to how Jackunzel has two different appearances, and so I made them go through different lifetimes, and how they always find each other in each one. Also huge shoutout to @justinepush for inspiring me with this cute animatic.
1st life: Human Jack & Magic Hair Rapunzel
In their first lifetime, the story roughly follows the original Rapunzel's fairytale, where the witch found out that Rapunzel has been seeing the Prince secretly, and banished her from the tower, then threw the Prince out of the tower, landing on a bed of thorns below, thus blinding him. They managed to find each other years later, reunited with their twin children. In this animatic though, they both lost their lives to the thorns, and Gothel was shocked/surprised not because she was worried about Rapunzel, but because her treasured golden hair is no longer usable. So in this one, Jack was either a Noble from Corona Kingdom, or a Prince from a neighbouring kingdom?
2nd Life: Guardians Jack & Rapunzel
Rapunzel was chosen as a Guardian, with healing powers. I don't have much thought on her center, it was probably something along the lines of Guardian of Wish/Longing because of how Rapunzel's wish in Tangled was made true by herself (with the help of Flynn yeah but she was the one who initiated it).
I needed a simple design for her Guardian appearance so I whipped up something quickly:
3rd Life: High School students
They're both normal humans now, and meeting by coincidence, not confronting any dangers or whatever, so hopefully they can take it easy now and enjoy each other's company for a long time :)
I think it's interesting to note that they may not remember each other from their previous lives, but something does click when they meet each other. But I leave that interpretation up to you. They can also remember each other if you want ^3^
The only pairing I haven't touched is Guardian Jack and Brown-haired Rapunzel. I'll whip up something for those two in the future probs so look out!
This whole animatic took me a whole month, but of course the planning and conception was cut short because I wrote down the main plot back during its inception in January 2023. While drawing each picture, I would always lose confidence saying things like "yeah this isn't going to work out" or "aahhh this looks trash no one will like this" or "maybe i should just stop now because this didn't turn out as amazing as I thought it would be", and I had to take care of myself before burning out and quitting it altogether. I also lost confidence because my style is so anime-like, I thought people wouldn't like it since it's way different from the studio's artstyle, but anywayss...
This was my first animatic and deciding to draw 60 different coloured illustrations wasn't a good idea for a first-timer, but I kept going because even if people won't like it, I'll just do it for myself.
This was a long post, but whewww. I'll probably draw some fanarts of their High School AU. Thanks for reading! (If you actually reached here lol)
#jackunzel#rapunzel#jack frost#rise of the guardian#tangled#rotbtd#rise of the brave tangled dragon#dreamworks#disney#bigfour#my art#animatic#anime#hy : jackunzel#hy : bigfour
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You have turned me from a Zenos hater into a Zenos ambilaventer keep posting and you might manage to turn me into a Zenos lover
If you already hated him though is me drawing him really going to make that big of a difference? 😩 Like I know I give him a fat ass and extremely delicious nose in my artwork but now I feel compelled to give you my tedtalk on why I like zenos lmao
This is about to be really long and also contains spoilers for stormblood, shadowbringers, and endwalker
This might surprise you but I like Zenos for his characterization and storyline in the game itself! The fanart is just kind of a bonus. He's one of many examples in Stormblood of a character that is shaped by their experiences, though I think it's not told as successfully as it is for like, Fordola, Arenvald, or Yotsuyu, because a key part of his backstory was locked to a short story in a print-only book (which I think is out of print now). The most you see of it in the actual game is this blink and you miss it line from Lyse at the very end of 4.0:
(Dialog from the quest "Stormblood", patch 4.0)
What really, really appeals to me about Zenos though, is that he is the personification of depression and that really resonates with me. He has anything he could possibly want, he has accomplished a great many things, but he feels completely hollow inside. He's miserable. He slaughtered countless Domans including their leader and felt nothing, commanded to do it by his father because (as shown in that short story) he only ever was acknowledged to even exist to his father when he practiced violence. So it's a given now, that's what's expected of him and that's all his life is. He's completely desensitized.
He finds one thing that makes him feel alive, that is the warrior of light challenging him, and it becomes his sole focus. Nothing else matters but chasing that high, because every single other thing is a low. After being bested by the warrior of light for the very last time, faced with probably prison for his crimes, he decides to die by his own hand on that high note rather than go back to the drudgery and misery that is everything else.
It's why in endwalker he can be swayed to do something good at the very, very end. He doesn't have a moral compass because he was shaped into an attack dog by his father, he sees "righteousness" as an excuse for war. Because I mean, what else is Garlean propaganda but righteousness from their twisted perspective? He asks Jullus if he would be happier had he a good reason to kill so many garleans after killing his own father— he makes it plain that death is death and there is no justice or good or evil in his eyes. He did have a reason, and it was that his father's use of black rose would likely kill the warrior of light, the only person or thing that gave Zenos any joy in life. Later, it was that Fandaniel dangled the idea that the warrior of light would be attracted to the slaughter and would come running to stop him so he killed more people during the civil war after the emperor's death. But he doesn't need to say that that was why. The reason doesn't matter, he knows the action would not change no matter how it was justified. Even if it was a "good" reason, death is death.
(Dialog from the quest "The Time Between the Seconds", patch 4.0)
(Dialog from the quest "As the Heavens Burn", patch 6.0)
I often see people take Alisaie's part in that scene as her convincing him to be a better person but that's really not what happens. He knows if he takes that action that others perceive as good and helps to stop Endsinger, he could have that high again in facing the warrior of light one more time. He could find joy and meaning, even for a fleeting moment. Then once again end it all because he fears returning to the low monotony of life. It's all over his dialog, especially in Endwalker. The dialog at the very end where he asks the warrior of light if they feel fulfilled, I know is meant to be a bit more of a meta question toward the player themselves, but I'd like to think it's Zenos comparing how different his outlook is to the warrior of light's. The warrior of light has many things keeping them going, whereas Zenos is drowning in despair with only one bright spot that he is constantly chasing time and time again.
(Dialog from the quest "Friends Gathered", patch 6.0)
those three tiny lines can hold so much zenoswol yearning in them AAAAAAAAAAAAA I AM not well
I personally still feel like there was room for him to survive that and to be gently guided into more and more good and try to undo some of that conditioning but I think he might be too polarizing of a character for him to become a permanent ally in canon. Much as I would love to see that! I have to wonder if the mentions of him in the 6.X patches that bounced between positive and negative were testing the waters, but I will leave my tinfoil hat aside because this post is already WAY too long lmao
I understand why people dislike him: they think he enjoys murder because he does it without "a good reason", they don't like how obsessive he becomes toward the warrior of light who is an extension of the player themselves, they don't like that in Fandaniel's scheme in "in from the cold" Zenos is the one inhabiting the warrior of light's body. Totally get it, totally understand.
I'm just saying I see the complexity to him and I find it compelling. Just as I found the overwhelming grief and despair that motivated Nidhogg or Emet-selch or Elidibus to be compelling. I think what people miss though when you like an antagonist is that feeling empathy toward them means you don't feel empathy toward the people they harmed, or that you somehow agree with what they did. But really, I just love seeing these characters that are faced with such tragedy or misery that they start to lose sight of right and wrong. They're driven entirely by emotions. For a story where emotions are literally power, I think it's a really interesting angle to take with the antagonists of that story.
Man, where was I going with this? 😂 I just love Zenos... I don't think I will be convincing anyone to like him who doesn't already, and that's not at all my intent. I just thought I'd share my perspective a little bit after getting this ask!
#ffxiv#zenos yae galvus#replies#hope this all makes sense#also please don't come at me with wank or discourse about how much you hate zenos#I've heard it all before and you're not gonna convince me to hate him with wank I'll just block you lol#endwalker spoilers#long post
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