#kamino is not a great place

[archivewriter1ont]

Echo and the Cadet Batch Chapter 13: Baby Dominoes and Repaying Debts (Part Two) Is Out!

INCREDIBLE art by @littletroggo

Summary:

To get more information and a lay of the already memorable facilities, Hunter pretends to be a new Mandalorian trainer and leaves the barracks with Ninety-Nine. He runs into two young Dominoes, one he hardly recognizes and one he never thought he'd get to meet -- then in the midst of an altercation, the sergeant comes face to face with a bad memory.

@leapingbadger, @badbatchposts, @kybercrystals94, @maybe-some-words and @littletroggo

LMK if you want to be added to the tag list!

[oliviaeatworld]

This is exactly what I love about Echo he’s been through so much and he’s still so caring

tried to fit his entire backstory in tags. sorry for ranting

Echo canonically being sentimental (and a sweetheart)

With his armor, there's also the "For Hevy" memorial, the fact he kept Rex's handprint, and that he put the Bad Batch skull on his armor before he even joined them

Echo holding 99 as he died has always stuck out to me as one of the saddest/sweetest things in TCW (especially since the show rarely actually shows clones mourning/expressing much emotion)

I also noticed that Echo is often the one to mention his brothers by name, and make sure they're remembered. And of course his entire thing about saving his brothers and leaving no one behind. (Also that he turned the call signs into this like nickname/inside joke thing with Omega is so adorable to me ahh)

--

And then there's whatever this is:

Not even a reaction to the name (and we know they are good at implying expression under those helmets)! I know this is old news but it bears saying lol. They had the perfect opportunity here to not only address Echo's loss, but also to honor Fives and the sacrifice he made to discover the chips. A sacrifice which saved Ahsoka, Rex, and now the Bad Batch. This is obviously not the first time Echo and Rex talked about Fives, he knows he's dead (I firmly believe he would not have left the 501st if Fives was still alive), but come on! This did the bare minimum to check the box of 'mention Fives.' How about you cut Wrecker getting attacked by a sarlacc or whatever and give that screen time to show us an actual conversation?

Like I found this bit in an interview:

While the conversation obviously never happened onscreen, Corbett says that doesn't mean it never happened, suggesting the two talked offscreen, saying "For Fives, I imagine that Rex and Echo had that conversation after he was rescued off of Skako Minor, and I know in Season 1 we did have Rex reference Fives on Bracca," adding "So, in my headcanon, they've had many conversations about Fives."

And I'm just like... Jennifer! You don't have to have headcanons, you are literally the writer! Show us!!

(Also he should have gotten his handprint again no I will never let this go)

[whirlybirbs]

— BURNER CELL ; 1 ; DABI ; 荼毗

summary: you end up at the league's bar, unbeknownst to you or your drunk friends. you just want to go home. set in the early days of bnha. pairing: dabi / f!reader ; quirkless word count: a cool 1.6k tag: humor, maladjusted dabi meets normal adult woman, flirting, canon-based world building, slight au, univeristy student!reader a/n: this is silly and short but man i really want to write dabi pining over a normal, quirkless person and frothing at the mouth when she doesn't text back for an hour the tag | next →

What's the whole bit about 'secondary locations'...?

You're not sure how you even got roped into this — it's a Thursday, for fuck's sake. You have class tomorrow, and by the time you manage to shepherd the gaggle of girls back into their respective Ubers for the night, you won't be back at your apartment until well into the early hours of the morning. 

You wince into your beer, hoping silently that your cat won't be too mad. Mizu can stand to skip a meal here and there, after all. He's a big boy. (Literally.)

In the booth in the back corner, there's a wave of raucous, tipsy laughter from your friends and their new acquaintances. One of those guys — the one who smells like cigarettes and cheap cologne — has his arm around Nuri. She seems totally into him despite the glimpse of yakuza affiliations painting his skin beneath his purple shirt collar. 

Worry tugs at your heart just as the door to this dour, smoke-filled bar opens. A handful of denizens enter, but you pay more mind to the rows and rows of meticulously stacked liquors from behind the bar.

This place is weird. 

Unsettling. 

It's oddly silent, with some too-quiet music coming from the beat-to-shit jukebox in the corner. The loudest thing in here is the drunk conversation from the group you came in with, and the occasional tinkering of glasses from the sparse few patrons posted up in various booths. 

You lean onto the bar, sigh, and take another long swig of your stale beer.

Note to self: Kamino Ward has the most mid nightlife imaginable. 

Suddenly, someone is shambling up to the stool beside you. 

They smell like cinder and smoke. Like a fire on a cold night. It's not entirely unpleasant, but it flicks some sort of DNA-deep warning bell in the back of your mind. Fire. Run. 

Your lashes flutter over, mid-sip. Then, your eyes widen incrementally as the dawning realization of just who's sitting there slams into you. It's the sort of realization that feels like a baseball bat to the back of the head.

You muscle down the mouthful of flat beer before your lips part in silent astonishment. 

Of all the bars they picked... It had to be the League of Villains' haunt?

Because of course, it had to be. It just had to be more than some scummy, ten-years-their-senior washed-up yakuza throwing drinks at them and promising them a good time, huh? It had to be a secondary location after a too-loud, too-hot nightclub downtown. It had to be this secondary location. 

Dabi clears his throat.

You snap your jaw shut. 

"Thought you were gonna catch flies for a second there," comes a rasped, rough chirp — wholly unbothered.

He isn't looking at you. He's looking ahead, presumably trying to discern what kind of drink he wants tonight. Piercing, turquoise eyes flick about the top shelf.

You have to peel your eyes off him.

Your tongue runs along your teeth as you nod, drumming your fingers against the bar. This is bad. Not ideal. Not great. "Sorry."

You slide a look back over your shoulder and catch Nuri's horrified expression. You follow her frantic eye movement to the other side of the room — it's a screaming look over there — where you spot the other well-known heavy hitters who have carved out their spot in recent news highlights. 

You whip your head back around, mild horror set in your face as you take another pitiful swig of your shitty, shitty, shitty beer. 

This is why there's that saying about secondary locations. 

You press your palms to your eyes as you lean onto the bar. 

"What's wrong with you, pretty? Bad break-up?"

Is he... seriously talking to you right now?

You pull your hands away from your tired eyes, your lips parted again but this time in total dejection. Your make-up is a little smeared; the dark circles beneath your eyes are mostly thanks to finals, but the running mascara doesn't help. 

You're cute.

You wouldn't usually be his type, but... Touya's in a good mood tonight. 

Your eyes rake across his face. 

He isn't entirely bad-looking. The deep, purple burns serve as a reminder of just how dangerous the man before her is. The staples digging into his flesh glint in the light. Your eyes narrow in on the trifecta of piercings on his right nostril. He's tall — lanky, even. 

The bartender, the guy who you're realizing is definitely the one and only Kurogiri from those wanted posters you saw on the outskirts of campus, must have slid him the gin soda that's in his hands. He levels your gaze with his own, punctuating it with a slow sip.

"I'm sorry...?" you ask, your brows knotting.

"Y'know," he remarks casually as he leans back in his chair and sips his drink; turquoise eyes flick back over his shoulder, to the gathered booth, "S'typical — dance the night away, try to forget that gut-wrenching heartache, get a lil' sloppy... Our buddy Giran loves the heartbroken ones."

Oh. So the smelly one is Giran. Good to know.

Great. Awesome. Super duper. 

Your eyes flit shut in quiet frustration. You shake your head. "No. No, I... No, I look like this because I have friends whohave terrible taste in men. Like your buddy Giran—"

Then: "No offense."

Dabi actually laughs. It's a raspy sound — like a wheeze and a cough and a chuckle, all wrapped into one mildly unsettling package. 

"Yer funny," he remarks, pointing with the deeply scarred finger that's holding his glass, "I like that."

"Thanks," you offer up pathetically, "I sorta feel like the court jester right now."

"That so?"

"Gotta jingle my bells a bit little more so you don't turn me into a walking ashtray."

Dabi's grin aches — the staples along his burnt jaw tug lightly and glint in the light. Oh, you're fun. He leans forward onto the bar, his forearms braced against the smooth mahogany. "So you know who I am?"

You stare absently at your half-gone beer. "Yep."

You pop the 'p'. 

"That freak you out?" he asks into his drink.

"What's the answer you wanna hear?" you ask, your brows screwed up in resignation. You just want to go home. You totally want to go home with all your skin intact and no grafts needed. 

"I wanna hear your digits. What's your cell?" 

...It's relatively smooth, all things considered. It takes a second for it to even register that he's asking you that and not some phantom apparition floating somewhere behind you. You even double-take for good measure.

"Y'said you weren't all heartbroken, so I'm assuming you're free game," he supplants, "Unless you got a boy toy or somethin' — not that I care, though."

"And what if I'm some sort of nark?"

Dabi's brow quirks.

"I mean," you shake your head as you realize how bad the mere suggestion sounds, "I'm not but, you don't even know who I am—"

"—Giran wouldnta' brought you an' your little idol group here if he didn't trust you were clean—"

"Great. Awesome," you mutter, taking a long swig of your beer, "Hold on, we're not Girls' Generation—"

"Yea, but yer all pretty," he comments casually, leaning back against the bar as he spreads his legs. He takes up a lot of space. He's dangerously close to encroaching on yours, "What're you? University students?"

You sigh. "Right on the money."

"How th' hell did you all manage to land here?" he sounds incredulous. 

"I couldn't tell you," you mumble as you finish off your beer, "Nuri is the one shacked up with Giran. She met him at the last club we were at. I'm sure it's love at first sight an' all that. Couldn't stand to part ways, so we're here." 

"Riiiiight," he rasps; the gin burns his tongue, "S'a little late for a school night, ain't it, pretty?"

"You wanna tell them that?"

"Might not have to," Dabi rumbles as he juts his jaw their way, "Looks like your little troupe is on th' move."

Oh, thank god. You catch a glimpse of Nuri kissing Giran on the cheek, and the others giving their goodbyes. You're fast to reach into your way-too-little purse, snag your phone, and then unlock it with ease. Within all of five seconds, the rideshare is called. 

You hesitate.

Then, you hand him your phone.

The contact screen is open.

The grin it earns you is mildly unnerving — but there's some charm to it. He's got pretty eyes, and his voice is nice enough to listen to. He didn't incinerate you either, and he called you pretty plenty of times to feed your ego properly. 

You watch him enter his information. It's no doubt the number to some shitty burner he might not have in a week, but... whatever. 

"Thanks for the conversation," you offer weakly as you stand; Dabi is a bit shameless with the way he rakes his eyes across your figure. His version of flirting is a little rudimentary but... it's working, "And not melting my face off, I guess."

"You leak my number," he sips his drink, "No one will ever find your body."

Right.

Cool.

Awesome.

"Didn't plan on it. On that note — my ride's here."

"Get home safe, pretty."

Dabi swigs his drink. He's tracing your figure with his eyes.

"Sounds fake when you say it," you call over your shoulder with a burst of bravery as you walk backward a few steps, hand on the door as you hold it open for your friends, "Aren't you supposed to be, like, a villain or something?"

Oh, he likes you. 

And you fuckin' hate secondary locations.

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

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

Hi,

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

What's Mine is Yours

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

Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader

Word count: 4.2k

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In sync, Hunter and Tech facepalm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal

Sign up for my tag list.

[deusvervewrites]

I’ve been working my way through your stories and your lore posts. I’m also finally catching up to the end of the MHA manga. My thoughts on the endings of various character arcs is something you might vibe with. Sometimes, mercy to the guilty becomes cruelty to the innocent. It’s great writing when the villains are people you can sympathize with, but it’s weird that the heroes are this focused on saving the villains that are causing so much death and destruction. Your thoughts?

The entire point of My Hero Academia is saving people.

From the first page of the first chapter until now that has never changed.

I've seen people criticizing Midoriya for not going out onto the battlefield to personally and deliberately murder Shgiaraki and I wonder if they're the same people who think Aang should have killed Ozai.

The idea of mercy to the guilty leads to cruelty to the innocent is what caused the entire plot. Had the people at the Dawn of Quirks not immediately started murdering children for being born "wrong", All For One wouldn't have had to cope by doubling down on their propaganda to justify his own existence to himself. But those people were "guilty" of being born wrong, and if they showed mercy to them, then what? What if those people turned on them? No, no. Better to not take that chance.

If Kotaro had forgiven his mother, Shigaraki would never have happened.

If the Togas had accepted their daughter, Himiko would never have become a murderer.

Spinner never left the house because he was seen as "guilty" of the sin of being a mutant. People were massacred for that sin.

Civilians nearly murdered Ippan Josei, a civilian herself, because they believed that mercy to the guilty is cruelty to themselves.

The greatest flaw of the Hero System is that it dehumanized everyone under it. The Heroes were flawless paragons who could never live up to their own hype and swiftly abandoned for failing. The Villains were deemed to be inherently bad and punished for it.

Endeavor was allowed to abuse his wife and all four children and faced no repercussions. Because he's a Hero and Heroes are good. Touya wasn't born correctly enough and was punished over a one-sided feud a generation before him.

Nobody was seen as human. That's literally the point of the final battle. Midoriya, Uraraka, Todoroki, they all had to recognize the humanity of the people they were fighting and remind them of it.

The thesis of My Hero Academia, of every single arc of My Hero Academia, is that Heroes are not "good" and Villains are not "evil." That failing to recognize that fact leads to dark places, like a government that doesn't bat an eye at murdering its own citizens to maintain power. Laws that strip you of your own bodily autonomy.

During his battle against All For One at Kamino, All Might states the the reason Heroes never lose is because they have people to save. The chapter titled Bakugou Katsuki: Rising, his origin chapter, is about 300 chapters into the manga and the first time he saves someone.

All For One and the HPSC are both cruel relics of the past doing their best to manipulate their way to power, viewing everyone in their way as disposable pawns. They're the same. You could even make an argument that the laws against Quirk use means the HPSC is literally giving and taking away Quirks via licenses. And they both completely crumble in large part because of their refusal to see people when it is so much easier to see the enemy.

My Hero Academia is a story about extending your hand to those in need.

[captn-trex]

we never quite made it

Tech x F!Reader

word count: 10k

description: after first meeting on kamino, you and tech seem to keep running into each other, without being able to fully indulge in each other's company. will you ever find the time to be able to tell each other of the feelings that have bloomed over the years?

warnings: not a happy ending!! death, torture (not in any great detail), blood & needles, some mentions of other medical stuff, tech brainrot I fear, don't wanna spoil it but... cx-2...

a/n: okay this was originally just gonna be a cute little fluffy thing and then I kinda went over board. it's a little more high-concept (which feels like a generous word for it) than my other oneshots but i'm pretty happy with how it turned out :) also anyone who writes tech fics regularly I salute you 🫡 it is truly not for the weak

22BBY, KAMINO

You waited patiently in the medical bay, lining up your various tools so none of them were out of place. You weren’t necessarily a neat freak, it was just something to occupy your hands. You were about to see your first patient since transferring from the hospital on Coruscant, to Kamino, in an effort to help the war effort.

The other medics around you weren’t new, and seemed a lot more relaxed, and sure of themselves. You had faith in your abilities as a medic, you had graduated from university into the job a number of years ago now, but somehow this felt like a lot more responsibility, looking after the men that fought for the Republic.

Your fingers were fidgeting at your sides when the door to the medical bay slid open, and a large group of clones were ushered inside by a Kaminoan. You were at the back of the room, so the clones from the front of the group were shown to the medics closest to them. As the group parted, you could see there were a group of clones in vastly different armour from their brothers, and your interest was certainly piqued.

You watched with intrigue as they got closer to you, and before you knew it, one of them was standing in front of you. You still felt nervous, but the timid look on the youthful face of this clone was enough to snap you into gear.

“Hello” You smiled at him sweetly, gesturing to the cot next to you, “Do you want to take a seat?”

The clone didn’t say anything, but obliged quickly. He was taller than many of the clones you worked on before, his hair a light auburn, and he wore goggles that were tinted a subtle yellow.

“What’s your name?” You asked politely.

“CT-9902, Ma’am”

The nervousness was evident in his voice, which you noted was different from the other clones, a more formal twinge and bite to the vowels.

“No need for all that Trooper, just my name is fine” You chuckled a little, tapping the name badge on your uniform, “and I asked for your name. What do your brothers call you?”

The clone looked to the name badge and then up to your eyes, “Tech”

“Well Tech, I understand that this is your last check-up before you graduate, is that right?”

“Uh, technically, we have already graduated. We are waiting to be deployed” He corrected you and you nodded.

”I understand” You smiled, “I’m just going to take some of your blood, if that’s okay”

“Of course it’s okay” He said matter-of-factly, “I wouldn’t expect anything less”

You had to suppress a smirk at his observation as you took the syringe from the tray, “It’s just what they ask us to say, bedside manner and all that”

“Ah” He replied, a blush tinging his ears pink, “My apologies”

It was hard not to find Tech adorable. He was so young and fresh-faced, somehow more so than the other recently graduated clones around the room. Perhaps it was the difference in facial structure, slightly pursed lips, or the big brown eyes that looked up at you though his goggles.

“No need” You waved off his apology, “It’s nice not to have to baby your patients really”

Tech nodded thoughtfully, and took of his left vambrace to allow you access to the correct vein, rolling up his sleeve. You raised an eyebrow at his actions.

“You had a lot of blood taken before?” You asked, and he looked at you puzzled.

“No” He replied simply, “Why?”

“I didn’t have to tell you where I was going to take it from” You gestured the syringe towards his now bare forearm.

“Ah, well” He looked down at himself and back up, “I am… a little knowledgeable about such things”

You smirked a little as you took his arm, keeping him talking while you placed the needle to his skin, “Knowledgeable huh? and why is that?”

He looked up at your face as you worked, wholly uninterested in the needle that was pressing into his arm, “I am interested in knowing about it”

You hummed slightly in reply, drawing the blood from the clone and placing the syringe down again.

“Just a few more things to check” You said, taking the small torch from your belt, “Would you mind taking off your goggles for just a moment?”

The clone didn’t hesitate, and pushed his goggles atop his head.

“Now, look straight ahead” You told him, and shined the light into his eye, checking to see if his pupils were dilating properly. At some point his eyes flicked up to yours, and you were surprised by the flurry of butterflies that filled your stomach. “Eyes ahead, Tech” You reminded him, and he righted himself straight away. You had to bite back your grin at his certainly interesting demeanour.

As you moved onto his other eye, you let your curiosity get the best of you, “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you and your brothers… a little different?”

“I do mind you asking actually” He said plainly, and you were unsure if you had actually upset him, if he was kidding, or if that was just how he spoke.

“Okay” You smiled graciously, choosing to just move on, “You can put your goggles back on now”

Tech watched you carefully as he pulled down and adjusted his goggles until they were comfortable again. With your pleasant smile, it seemed that you were just being sincere and inquisitive in asking about him and his brothers, and he felt a little silly for just brushing you off.

“We usually get seen by the Kaminoans” Tech noted, “Why are there civilian medics on Kamino now?”

“We volunteered” You shrugged with a small smile, “Could you lie down?”

Tech once again did as you said quickly, a little too quickly this time, hitting the back of his head on the cot that was not as comfortable as he had thought. You winced a little and his cheeks flushed immediately.

”Good thing I’m about to scan you” You joked, “Hopefully that didn’t do any damage”

Tech pointed his first finger up as he talked, “It is highly unlikely that I would sustain any dam-”

“I know Tech, I was just kidding” You interrupted, and he stuttered as he looked up at you standing over him with a gentle smile

“Right” He nodded, “Of course you do, my apologies”

”There’s no need to apologise” You smiled, pulling down the scanner over him “Stay still now”

You stepped back from the machine and picked up your datapad, reading over the information as the scanner picked it up. It scanned his identifying code in his wrist and your eyebrows raised at his profile. Defective, genetically enhanced intellect and cognitive functions.

“Is something wrong?” He questioned your reaction.

“No, you’re in perfect health in fact” You answered his question, pulling the machine away so he could sit up.

“What is the… matter, then?” He asked slightly hesitantly.

“The machine scanned your identifying code” You explained, unable to hold back your grin, “You sound like a very interesting individual indeed, Tech”

Tech blushed furiously, looking away and noting that his brothers were already finished with their examinations, huddled together watching him with the widest grins he had ever seen from them. He only blushed further upon seeing them, scowling and turning back to you. You just watched him with a look of vague amusement on your face.

“Well, you’re all good to go now” You informed him, and he stood quickly, accidently knocking the elbow of his armour against your hip.

He was mortified. “I am so very sorry” He spoke hurriedly, turning back towards you with wide eyes, gently holding onto your arm without even realising.

“It’s really alright” You replied with a chuckle, though it was a little strained.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, that is the last thing I would mean to do” He continued, and you couldn’t help but find his reaction so effortlessly charming

“I like the way you speak, Tech” You smiled, genuine happiness just taking over your face.

Tech didn’t think it was possible for his face to heat up even more, but he had to clutch at the edge of his blacks and pull them away from his neck so it didn’t feel like he was over heating. He didn’t know what to say at all. He couldn’t think of the last time he had ever been complimented by someone, let alone someone as pretty as you. He willed himself to get a grip, knowing he was just giving in to his body in allowing those kind of thoughts to fester, and he cleared his throat.

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you” He added your name with an emphasis, as if it was to help him remember it, “If I weren’t about to leave I would ask you to explain the functionality of this machine you’ve just used on me”

“Maybe another time?”

Tech nodded, “Another time”

“Goodbye Tech” You smiled at him warmly, “It was a pleasure to meet you too”

Tech nodded and turned to leave, making a beeline for his brothers, who welcomed him by teasing him mercilessly, the largest of the bunch ruffling his auburn curls. You watched them leave, and caught Tech looking back at you as he exited the room.

21BBY, KAMINO

“New orders”

Before you could realise, a datapad was being thrown at you. Luckily you got your hands around it before it dropped to the floor. You looked over the screen, then up at the other medic.

“We're not trained for that” You implored.

“The GAR is running low on medics, they asked for some of us to fill the roles for now” They replied with a shrug, “It's probably more interesting than being here anyway”

You could agree with that.

“What squad are you with?” The other medic asked, and you looked back down, tapping on your name.

“Clone Force 99” You informed them. The name rung a bell from somewhere…

“Never heard of them” The medic replied, “Guess you'll find out tomorrow”

Having stayed up late investigating the group of clones you were instructed to be joining, it was no wonder that you were bouncing on your toes with a beaming smile as their ship came hurtling into the hangar. You were impressed by their success rate, not falling short of perfect, but it was from realising exactly who was a part of this team that made you so eager.

You would be lying to say you hadn't thought of Tech a few times since first meeting him. With him being your first patient here on Kamino, it was hard not to compare the other clones to him, and while you had no issue with the other clones, you had not enjoyed your time with them as much as that first encounter.

The ship was set down on the ground, and soon the small batch of clones emerged from inside, looking particularly disinterested, and your smile faltered. They huddled together outside, talking amongst themselves, some of them leaning on the side of the ship.

You walked over slowly, feeling a little more hesitant than you had initially been. You couldn't see Tech, as he was behind his brothers, but you recognised the rest of them by their differing appearances.

You cleared your throat, gaining the attention of the clones, and offering them a small smile. They turned to look at you, apart from Tech who's face was buried in a datapad.

“Hello, I think I've been assigned to your squad” You spoke, and that's when Tech's head snapped up, his eyes meeting yours.

He looked a bit older than the last time you had seen him. His face seemed slimmer, his cheekbones slightly more hollowed out and defined, his jaw strong, but his widened eyes had the memorable sparkle in them all the same.

“We don't need you here” One of the others said, earning a elbow in the ribs as you looked up at him.

“Shut up Cross” The elbow-er hissed quietly at the elbow-ee, “Ignore him, it's nice to meet you…”

You told the man your name.

“Well, I'm Hunter” He introduced himself, and you gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

Crosshair rolled his eyes, “Why are we being made to have a medic?”

“I'm not sure” You shrugged, “I wasn't really told all too much about it”

Crosshair seemed almost pleased that you were just in the dark as them, then grunted, pushing his way past you and onto the ship.

Hunter huffed, noting your slightly offended expression, “Sorry about Crosshair, he's in a mood. We just weren't… expecting this, is all”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, “Me neither”

“Well anyway, let's get going” He walked up the ship's steps.

“I'm Wrecker” The large clone introduced himself with a warm smile, which you were inclined to return.

You held out your hand to him, and he took it with a crushing strength. “Nice to meet you… Wrecker” You managed to peep out despite the force of his grip.

Wrecker followed his commanding officer up the stairs afterwards, and you were about to follow after, but realised Tech was still stood firmly in his place. You looked back at him and he was still staring at you.

“You coming Tech?”

His eyes went a little wider.

“You know who I am?” He said, his voice holding a clear tone of surprise, though it was nowhere near as timid as it had been the last time you saw him.

Your cheeks flushed a little, embarrassed that he had clearly made more of an impression on you than you had on him.

“Oh, you don't remember meeting?” You asked, keeping your voice even.

“No, no, I remember” He confirmed, “I just didn't think you would remember me”

You gave him a puzzled look, a smile growing on your face, “Of course I remember you”

“Can you two wrap it up, we're leaving” Crosshair shouted from inside, and you chuckled slightly nervously, walking up the ramp.

Tech was still frozen in place for a moment. He hadn't been excited to be getting a medic, having ample training and knowledge of the subject himself, but now, he couldn't help but feel a little exhilarated that it was you that would be joining them.

The few times that the squad had been back to Kamino since graduation, Tech had found himself wandering down to the medical bay. He hadn't talked to you, he was far too nervous to do that, but he had watched you work through the little window in the door. You had almost caught him one time, and that's when he decided to stop doing it, realising how strange he was behaving.

He walked up the stairs of the Marauder, a little on edge, a little nervous, but a little more happy than he had been when they landed.

21BBY, MARAUDER

Tech was staring. At you, to be specific. Once again.

His brain worked at a klick a minute, and yet, whatever you had just said to him had him stumped. His mouth hung open a little, his eyes slightly narrowed and his brow furrowed deeply. He wasn't saying anything. For once, nothing was going on in his head. It was like his brain had frozen, unable to process any new thoughts. He was confused.

“Tech?” You said hesitantly, drawing him from his stupor.

“I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you correctly” He replied assuredly.

You hesitated a little before asking again, “I asked you if you think I should leave”

That's what he thought you'd said.

“I don’t understand your meaning” He dropped the tool from his hand and stood up, facing you and trying to read every movement you made.

You felt a little uneasy under his scrutiny, but continued nonetheless, “Like… leave the team”

Tech still couldn't understand.

“Why are you asking me this?” He asked, his brow furrowing even deeper.

“Well, I figured you would give me an honest answer” You shrugged. Tech was nothing if not upfront, and it was one of the many things you liked about him.

“No, I mean… why are you asking this at all?” He surveyed your reaction to his words, your throat constricting as you swallowed and subtly wiped you hands on your trousers.

“Uh… I suppose I don't feel that my presence is very necessary”

“I don't see how you could possibly think that” Tech replied, “You have a very useful skillset”

“Well, I know that Hunter doesn't exactly love having me around, and Crosshair even less so” You argued, “And my ‘useful skillset’ hardly gets used around here”

Tech didn't know what to say. There was something nagging at him from the depths of his consciousness, urging him to tell you to stay. He found you exceedingly interesting, and enjoyed hearing about your medical exploits from before joining their squad. He always asked under the guise of learning new information, but his brothers all understood, far more than him, that it wasn't just knowledge that kept him asking you questions.

At this point, you had been with the Bad Batch for a few months, and - as you were explaining to Tech - you had not felt very useful at all. They rarely got injured, but even when they did, they would mostly refuse your help. Particularly Hunter. Crosshair had not warmed to you at all, though Wrecker did seem to enjoy your company. Tech was kind, in his own way. He always listened to you attentively, and as both of you were reasonably light sleepers, you had often found yourselves staying up together between missions, talking about a great many things. He seemed interested to know about medical procedures, but expanding his knowledge was only making you more and more obsolete within the group.

“I'm sorry if we've made you feel unwelcome” He said, and your gaze softened a little.

“It's okay, I know none of you really wanted me here in the first place”

“That’s…” Tech tried to find the words, “I would not say that is entirely factual. Though if you would like to leave, I think you should”

You couldn’t help but feel a little disheartened by Tech’s words, but you did come to him for the truth after all, you couldn’t be mad now.

“Alright, I'll notify the medical team back on Kamino then”

You walked away from Tech, and his brain began working, screaming at him to ask you to stay. He pressed his lips into a hard line, trying to come up with something, anything that he could say to make you stay, but all of the possibilities floating around in his head were jumbled and he couldn’t make sense of anything. He shook his head, trying to focus himself, but you had already walked away, already set on leaving.

“Get away from me”

You were crouched over Crosshair’s crumpled form, who was bent over and holding the wound to his side in the co-pilot's chair of the Marauder.

“Crosshair, I'm only trying to help” You insisted, trying to tend to him.

“I don't need your kriffing help, back off” He hissed, snatching the medkit from you.

You sighed deeply, taking a step back, “You know this is the reason I'm here right? To help when things like this happen?”

“We don't need you!” He shouted, “We never wanted you here, and we certainly don't now”

“Crosshair, calm down” Hunter scolded lightly, and when you turned to him you could see the look on his face, where you knew he agreed with his brother but was holding his tongue.

“Well good for you, I'll be gone soon” You mumbled as you stormed away, your eyes welling up instinctively from someone raising their voice at you.

You felt entirely useless.

You became a medic because you wanted to help people, and you joined the GAR medic team because you wanted to help clones specifically, but here you were, surrounded by clones, and they didnt want your help. It was hard not to feel downcast about it.

You understood Crosshair's contempt to a certain level, but did he really have to be so mean?

Tech could hear your soft sobs from outside the door to the cargo hold. He knocked firmly, and heard you sniff before telling him to enter.

When he saw the rosy tint of your nose and cheeks and the tears running down them, he realised that he had no idea how to comfort you in this moment. He stared at you as you stared up at him, waiting for him to say something.

“I'm sorry” He said unsurely, and you gave him a sad smile.

“It's fine Tech”

“I don't really think it is ‘fine’. I am very unimpressed with the way my brothers have behaved towards you” He asserted.

Looking down at you, your knees tucked into your chest and biting into your bottom lip to stop it quivering, he was reminded that he really didn't want you to leave, and even further, he realised the true reason why. He finally mustered up the courage to ask you to stay.

“I know that you're not happy at the moment, being with this team. I… I wish it were different, I wish we could have made you more comfortable. I am sure that if you stayed for a little longer and I talked to my brothers that-”

“I've heard from Kamino already, they want me back” You said softly, cutting him off before he could even say it.

“Ah, I see” He paused, then turned away “I shall leave you to-”

“Tech”

He turned back to you, and you offered him a soft, genuine smile, “I appreciate it, thank you”

He just nodded to you and left, the nasty feeling of rejection gnawing at his brain.

As the Marauder touched down in the hangar on Kamino, there was the most unpleasant sensation stirring in your gut. This was the right choice, you didn't fit in here, and you wanted to actually make a difference. Despite knowing all this, you couldn't help but feel strange, and descending the ship’s stairs felt like regressing, going backwards instead of forwards.

You turned to look at the clones as you left. Each of them, apart from Crosshair, gave a nod and a goodbye and walked back inside. Aside from Tech, of course.

He followed you down the steps, and it was the look on his face that placed that feeling in your gut. It was the reluctancy to leave behind this man that you had grown so fond of over the past few months, this man who listened to you and made you feel wanted despite the rest of the squad's insistency to not.

It had only been a few months, but you realised that you had grown very close with the clone before you, and your heart ached. You realised the depth of the feelings you harboured for him, that it was something you had never felt for another.

“I'll miss you Tech, it's been nice getting to know you” You spoke honestly, realising this could be the last time you saw him.

Tech sighed almost imperceptibly, “I agree, I shall miss… learning about medical procedures from you”

You couldn't help but laugh, “Well next time you're on Kamino, swing by the medical bay and I'll be happy to answer your questions”

“Are you making fun of me?” Tech suddenly resembled the shy cadet that you had met the first time.

“No” You smiled, “I'd always be happy to talk to you”

Tech didn't know what the correct thing to say was, so he said nothing. He just stared at you, once again, his mind fighting for anything to say once more. There was nobody that could send his mind spiralling like you did, and it seemed that you didn't even try to.

You smiled despite his slightly awkward silence, and stepped forwards, raising to your toes to plant a soft kiss to his cheek, “Goodbye Tech”

Tech could feel his face burning, from the blush that overtook him, and the feeling of your lips searing into his skin, rendering him completely speechless. As you walked away, he brought a hand to his face where you had kissed him and traced the area with his finger lightly.

“Ugh, I'm going to throw up” Crosshair asserted from the doorway of the ship.

“Shhhh” Wrecker pushed him and watched Tech swoon over you with a large grin.

Tech paid them no mind. He just watched you leave, a mix of emotions overtaking him. A frown settled on his face as your figure disappeared into the facility, but the feel of your lips on his cheek brought a warm feeling to his chest.

19BBY, ANAXES

“Hey Baar'ur'ika!” You heard the unmistakable voice of Jesse call out to you as he jogged over to the medbay in the Anaxes base.

“He doesn't call me that you know” Kix asserted from beside you, and you chuckled.

“Do you want him to?” You asked earnestly, but with an amused twinkle in your eye.

“That's besides the point" He grumbled, earning another laugh from you.

“Me and Kix are being sent on a mission with the Captain” Jesse said as he came to a stop in front of you.

“We are?” Kix asked

Jesse nodded, “Some special squad is joining us apparently”

“Special?”

“Yeah, I'm not sure why though, you wanna come find out?” He grinned, gesturing his head towards the landing strip.

“Can't. I've got all these reports to sign off” You sighed, holding up your stack of flimsi.

“Alright, we'll see you later on then Baar'ur'ika” Jesse smiled, ruffling your hair.

You huffed, putting the lose strands of it back into place, “See you later”

You took up your stylus again, clicking it absentmindedly as you read over the reports.

You had been reassigned to the 501st only a few weeks after leaving clone force 99, and you fit in so much better here. It seemed that the clones of the 501st actually wanted to get along with you, and they always included you in their shenanigans, reluctantly on your end. You got along with all of them really well, but Kix and Jesse were the ones you were closest with. You worked most closely with Kix, so that was only natural, but Jesse was certainly the most friendly to you from the outset.

You came across a report with an error, and checked the next piece of flimsi, and the same error had been made. You then leafed through all of the pages and realised the error had been made on every single one of them, and you groaned loudly. It then occurred to you that maybe you were the one making the error, and so you grabbed the stack of pages, rushing out the door to try and grab Kix before he left for his mission.

Luckily when you got to the landing strip, him and Jesse were still standing there with the Captain. You rushed over to them, almost dropping a page on the way.

“Kix, can I just ask you about something” You spoke, and the huddle of clones turned to look at you.

“Ah Baar'ur'ika, you came to investigate after all” Jesse slung an arm around your shoulders with a grin.

“I didn't come to investigate, I-”

Your voice seemingly stopped working as you turned your head and locked eyes with the specific ones that had always managed to draw you in and leave you speechless. Those wonderful brown eyes that always widened when they met yours

“Tech” You couldn't hold back the smile that grew on your face.

Tech spoke your name, and Jesse stifled a laugh when he felt a shiver run up your back.

You were absolutely mesmerised by the man in front of you. It had been just over a year since you had seen him, and in that time it seemed that he had only got even more beautiful. Your heart felt as if it had been set alight, the emotions that accompanied seeing Tech returning as if you had only said goodbye to him yesterday.

“We're here too” Wrecker laughed, snapping your gaze away from the spectacled clone.

“Hey Wrecker” You grinned, and he gave you a wink in return.

“Hey Hunter, Crosshair” You addressed the last two clones.

“Hey, it's good to see you” Hunter replied, a small genuine smile directed towards you.

Crosshair didn't say anything, but you hadn't expected him to.

“You know these guys?” Jesse asked, squeezing your shoulder.

“Uh, yeah. I was with them for a little while” You replied, looking to the floor for a moment before realising why you were here. “Oh! Kix, I just need to ask about this”

Tech watched you talking with the other medic and flipping through the pieces of flimsi as everyone else fell back into their previous conversation. His eyes lingered on the arm slung around your shoulders, and the way you placed your own hand on the shoulder of the other clone. You were clearly comfortable around these clones, and Tech's jealousy fizzled away to a form of sadness as he realised that you were so much happier with these clones than you had been with them. With him.

You settled the matter with Kix, and turned towards Tech once more, stepping forward so you stood in front of him.

“How are you?” You asked, clasping your hands behind your back.

“I am well” Tech replied flatly, not giving away an inch of the emotions that swirled within him, “How about yourself?”

“I'm good yeah” You smiled, “I've been here for a few rotations”

“With the 501st?” Tech asked.

“Oh no, just on Anaxes, I've been with these guys since… well, a couple weeks after I left you”

Something about the sentence pulled at Tech's heart. These clones were so lucky. They had got to spend all of this time by your side, all this time that he had spent with you only as a memory in his head, your absence taunting him constantly.

“I- Uh- I am glad to see you are doing well, you seem… happier, than last I saw you” He observed, pulling a small laugh from you.

“Maybe a bit. I do miss having someone to rant to though” You smirked a little at him, and despite his heated cheeks, he returned the gesture.

“I don't know that I'd call it ‘ranting’, you were always very precise with your words, very… intentional” He complimented you in a way that only made sense to both of you.

You hummed in response, “Well how's this for intentional - I've missed you Tech”

Tech couldn't hold back the small contented sigh that escaped him.

“I have missed you too” He admitted, indulging in losing himself in your eyes, inspecting ever fleck of colour.

“Hey Tech! We've gotta get going” Hunter shouted over to him. Neither one if you had realised the others had moved away.

Tech scowled inwardly, turning his attention back to you, “I was… I should like to ask you about biopsy methods, I am unsure of safe practice”

“Maybe another time?” You asked hopefully.

He nodded, a small smile quirking the edges of his lips, “Another time”

In a bout of confidence and rising adrenaline, Tech found himself leaning down and pressing a short kiss to your cheek, as you had done to him last time. Your mouth hung open a little as he then immediately walked off and joined his brothers on the gunship, surprised that he had actually done such a thing.

“Bye Baar'ur'ika” Jesse called teasingly, and you were snapped from your daze.

“Bye di'kut” You called, rolling your eyes as you clutched your flimsi close to your chest.

Tech's eyes locked with yours as the doors to the gunship closed, and it made your chest ache. You could still feel the warmth of his breath, the gentle scratch of his stubble, the softness of his lips. It was all too much and not enough, and watching him leave hurt more than you thought it would.

18BBY, CORUSCANT

You sat at your makeshift desk, your head in your hand and flicking through your datapad to survey the latest news. Things certainly had become bleak since the rise of the Empire.

You heard your name called, and your head snapped up to meet the golden eyes of Senator Chuchi.

“Senator, what can I do for you?” You asked, sitting up straight.

“Please, it's Riyo, and it's more what I can do for you” She said with a small smirk lifting the edges of her lips.

“Oh” You said, your eyebrows drawing together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“There's a new clone joining us, I believe you know him” She replied, her smirk growing.

You immediately stood from your seat, “Is it who I think it is?”

“Perhaps” The Senator shrugged coyly.

You couldn't hold back your grin, “Where is he?”

“Just in the hangar” She nodded in the direction.

“Thank you Sen- Riyo” You said quickly, rushing from behind your desk towards the hangar.

You had known that Echo was alive, but this was the first time you would actually be seeing him since before the mission to the citadel where he had been presumed dead, and boy was he a sight for sore eyes.

“Echo!” You exclaimed excitedly, drawing the attention of the clone as you ran towards him across the hangar.

The clone's eyes lit up as he took in the sight of you, and stepped forwards, taking you in a tight hug when you crashed into him.

“It's good to see you” He said with a smile as he pulled away.

“It's even better to see you” You grinned, “I was so upset I didn't get to see you after you were rescued”

“I heard” He smirked, looking over his shoulder at Rex.

You looked over at the blonde clone too, and saw that he was watching on with three other familiar clones.

“Woah” You couldn't stop yourself from saying, “I heard you were hanging around with this lot nowadays”

Once your eyes found Tech, you couldn't bring yourself to look away. He seemed to be hanging back a bit, his eyes once again a little wide behind his goggles.

“Hey!” Wrecker said excitedly, earning a small laugh from you.

“Hey Wrecker, hey Hunter” You smiled at the clones.

“Hi” The Sergeant smiled at you.

Wrecker then pushed Tech forwards, and you smirked a little as he glared at his larger brother.

“Hey Tech, how's it going?” You asked, and he brought his eyes back to you.

In a way he couldn't define, you seemed more mature than when he had last saw you. Perhaps it was the tiredness he saw in your eyes, or perhaps it was the few small scars that adorned your skin, clearly earned in battle. The thought of you sustaining injuries made his stomach lurch, so he tried not to think of it.

The way you were looking at him was so familiar. Your smile was kind and easy, gracing your features in a way that was so uniquely you. The light crinkle around your eyes and lips, the small glint in your eye, the way one side of your mouth was more contorted than the other. Tech was certainly glad to see you.

“Uh… it is going well” Tech replied unsurely after a moment, and you smirked a little bit at his answer.

It was intoxicating to be in Tech's presence once more. Everytime you were around him, things felt a little different, like there was something in the air that made everyone else look a bit more fuzzy as he was brought into focus. It didn't ever help that he was seemingly always getting so much more handsome every time you saw him.

His auburn locks were a little longer at the moment, no doubt because his biggest priority whilst on the run from the Empire was not his hair, but you weren't complaining. His hair framed his angelic face so perfectly, his features undeniably sharper and more mature, though his eyes were still as soft and gentle as they had always been, with a startling youthfulness that he couldn't seem to shake.

“It's good to see you guys, I'm glad to see you're not… with the Empire” You said a little hesitantly, then noticed the small blonde girl that was hiding behind Hunter.

He noticed you looking at her and introduced her to you.

“It's nice to meet you Omega” You smiled, kneeling down to get on her level.

“It's nice to meet you too, though I have already heard of you since Tech talks about you a lot” She said matter-of-factly.

“Is that right?” You smirked, looking up at Tech, whose cheeks were positively burning.

“I think I may have mentioned your existence a few times” He spoke flatly, but the edge of squeakiness gave him away.

The idea of Tech talking about you, or even just casually mentioning your existence in a passing comment, was enough to set your heart alight. In whatever manner it had truly been, he had at least always remembered you in some way, and that brought the smile to your face.

Hunter then said goodbye to you, and then to Echo, and retreated to the ship. Tech did the same, but instead walked towards you, stopping just in front of you. You had to crane your neck a little to look up at him in the pleasantly close quarters. Had he always been this tall?

“I-” He just looked at you for a while, and you smiled at him, waiting patiently for him to continue. “I have many questions to ask you” He finished.

You chuckled, “Maybe another time?”

Tech couldn't help but sigh, the familiar words making his heart ache, “Another time, yes”

“I think I owe you something now” You said with a small grin, trying to ease the light crease in his brow.

Tech watched your expression change cautiously, “Owe me? I don't think so”

“I mean, if you don't want it then-”

“Well, I must admit, I am curious now”

You laughed at his interjection, smiling at him fondly, “Alright, here you go then”

You placed a hand on his cheek and brought your lips to the other one, placing a lingering kiss to his cheekbone. Tech closed his eyes at the bittersweet feeling of it, and opened them to look back into yours. He placed his own hand to your cheek before the moment could end, and gently rubbed his thumb back and forth, his eyes searching yours. He took a quick glance over your shoulder and saw his brothers all watching him, waiting for him so they could leave, and he chewed the corner of his lip a little as he looked back to you.

“One of these days, I'll give you a proper kiss” He said quietly, making your heart skip a beat, “If you'd like that”

“I'd like that very much” You replied quickly, the grin on your face only growing.

Tech cracked his own small smile. “Another time then” He whispered, and looked over your features for a second longer, before placing a soft kiss to your forehead and walking away.

You watched him leave with an undeniable fondness swelling in your heart. You had felt a certain affection for Tech from the very beginning, and the thrill of the idea of him returning the feelings that you harboured for him brought forth the newfound nature of said feelings.

It went deeper than just liking him in a special way. This emotion you felt when you looked at him, or when you thought of him, was different. The way your heart stopped when he looked at you, the way your breath hitched when he spoke your name, you knew it was different. This was far more profound than a silly crush. The longevity of your affections had caused them to develop into something deeper, more serious.

Something like love.

17BBY, REBELLION BASE

“I need to talk to you”

You looked up from cleaning your workstation and saw Echo striding towards you, determination in his eyes that seemed otherwise tired and possibly even sad.

“What's the matter?” You asked, rushing over to meet him in the middle.

He opened his mouth, trying to find the words, but finding them hard to say, to admit even to himself.

“I… was just on a mission with the batch” He started.

“Oh how are they? How's Tech?” You ask, your mood lifted just a little.

Echo's heart ached, his eyebrows pinching together as his lips formed a hard line. His eyes began to well up slightly and he blinked a few times to rid himself of the tears.

“I'm so sorry” He whispered.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked cautiously.

“Tech… He-” Echo swallowed, “He didn't make it, he fell”

The words hit directly into your heart, and you could almost feel it collapse in on itself.

“Wh- What?” You whimpered out, almost hoping that you had heard him wrong, or that it was just a cruel joke of some kind.

“He… He sacrificed himself for the squad, so that they could live”

You couldn't say anything, couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think. The only thing you could do, was let the feeling of everything crashing down wash over you. It truly felt as if the hinges of your life, the certain something that seemingly held it up, had come loose.

You heard Echo say your name, but it was distant, like he was in another room. Your knees slowly gave in, and he grabbed you as you fell to the ground. He held you in his arms as you cried silently, your tears soaking through his clothes. He stroked your hair comfortingly, whispering assurances about how it was going to be fine, that everything would be alright.

“I never got to tell him, Echo” You choked out eventually, cutting through his smooth words.

“Tell him what?” He asked tenderly, knowing all too well what it was.

“That I… love him” You said, and a small sob finally escaped you.

Somehow it felt even harder to admit now that he was gone. Your love didn't feel as if it was in the past tense. It felt present, current, and that's why the sudden grief stung so much - the love was still lingering, and it didn't feel as if it was planning on leaving anytime soon. After all, it had managed to survive not seeing him for long periods of time, and to your broken heart, it felt the same.

17BBY, IMPERIAL PRISION

You surfaced slowly into consciousness, your eyes trying to open, but to no avail. You could feel your wrists caught in restraints, held above you on either side of your head. You tried to remember what had happened, but everything was fuzzy. You were… at the base. The Bad Batch were there, then… You were attacked? You were running with… Howzer? and then…

You couldn't recall anything past that point, but when your eyes finally opened you had a little idea of what could have happened. Sat opposite you with their arms crossed, was a man dressed head to toe in black armour, like the operative that Rex had captured before the attack on the base. He began talking, but it wasn't initially intelligible.

You shook your head to try and clear the brain fog a little, “Wha-”

“Tell me where the girl is” He demanded. The sound of his voice was so eerily familiar, but it was heavily modified by his helmet.

“Girl?” You questioned through your delirious state, turning your wrists in their restraints. Naturally, you knew who he was talking about, but you weren't going to give up that easily.

“Omega. I saw you talking with her, I know you know her and her brothers. Now, tell me, where would they have taken her?”

You pressed your mouth into a hard line, you could hardly deny it if he had seen you. “I won't talk”

He sighed, standing up and walking over so he stood in front of you, “I don't need to hurt you…” He said your name, and a chill ran up your spine. How could he know your name?

“That's not my name” You narrowed your eyes, looking into his visor.

“You cannot lie to me, Cyare” He spoke, and ran a hand over your cheek, “It would serve you well to tell the truth, it would be a shame to have to ruin this pretty face”

You looked over the man's appearance, for any semblance of individuality, but there was nothing.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“No one that concerns you anymore” The man chuckled, stepping back from you, “Now, tell me, what has become of the defective clones?”

You clenched your jaw in defiance, refusing to spill anything without even a little bit if incentive. You were clearly in some kind of imperial facility, but you weren't in any immediate danger, so you would stay stubborn for as long as you could.

The man spoke your name in a warning tone, his head tilted to the side, “I need you to tell me”

“I wont tell you anything” You spat back at him. He was irritatingly calm and collected, something you had not experienced from the Empire before.

He folded his hands behind his back, humming thoughtfully, “You will. Perhaps, another time”

With that, he turned and pressed the button on the door panel to leave.

You let your head hang down again, letting out a deep breath. If you weren't so tired you were sure that you'd be more panicked, but as your eyes closed and you let the exhaustion take over, you couldn't find it in yourself to be scared. Your body ached, and you needed it to rest if you wanted any chance of getting out of here.

The mysterious operative returned often over the next few days, pushing for answers but always leaving empty handed. He would always threaten violence, but had not touched you once since caressing your face in that first encounter.

He was now stood opposite you as he always was, making another empty threat about how you would be hurt if you didn't answer him.

You rolled your eyes, “Are you ever going to hold true to that promise?”

He stayed silent, and you laughed a little.

“Come on, I dare you, hurt me” You urged, jutting your chin out.

You were so tired of this, and he was obviously worn out by your defiance as well.

“I told you” He spoke quietly, “The last thing I would ever mean to do is hurt you”

Your heart stopped, and your eyes went wide as the familiar voice finally placed itself, hearing the same words that it had said all those years ago.

“It can't be, you-”

The man reached up and took off his helmet with a short hiss. He looked different, his face scarred and weary, his goggles nowhere to be seen, but it was undeniably him. The only thing that could have convinced you otherwise was the fact that his eyes didn't have the youthful sparkle they always seemed to in the past. Instead, they looked tired, completely worn down, and cold.

“Tech” You whispered, your heart beating impossibly fast in your chest.

He stepped closer, “I do not go by that name anymore”

On instinct, your eyes began to water, and a single tear ran down your cheek, “What are you doing here? You- You're with the Empire?”

He didn't reply, but he took off a glove and brought his hand to your face to wipe your tear away. You closed your eyes, and he let his hand remain on your cheek, rubbing your cheekbone lightly.

“I need you to tell me what I want to know” He spoke so softly now, and you opened your eyes and look up into his. They were still so inviting despite their unfamiliar coldness.

“Tech, why are you doing this?”

He didn't reply again, but brought his other hand to your cheek and held your face gently, his own just in front of yours, “Tell me”

“I can't” You choked out, brow furrowed as he ignored your questions.

“Please, Cyare. They will hurt you if you don't talk”

“Let them” You said firmly, tugging your face from his hands, “I won't betray your brothers”

Tech just watched you for a moment before opening his mouth again.

“So be it”

He put his helmet back on and left the room, leaving you alone with the revelation that the man you had been in love with was not only alive, but under the control of the Empire, the very thing you had dedicated your life to defeating.

The following day, when you lifted your head to see Tech enter your cell, he was now joined by an Imperial officer, and a floating droid that had a thin needle protruding from it. You understood all too well what this droid was, what it was used for, and you pulled at your restraints, a string of grunts escaping your lips.

“Resisting will do you no good” The Imperial officer chuckled, standing before you as the droid positioned itself to your left.

Tech couldn't watch. He kept his head up, appearing to be looking straight through you, but he had to close his eyes. Your screams were enough. You were resisting at every turn, and Tech just wished you would relent so that he wouldn't have to listen to the awful sounds that escaped you. The sounds that cut deep through his conditioning and hit his very soul, causing his chest to ache.

“Please, Tech. Make them stop” You cried hopelessly, and he squeezed his eyes closed even further, trying to block everything out.

To you, he looked cold, unmoving, and even after the Imperial had left with the droid as you had not let anything slip, he didn't budge at all.

After a few minutes of quiet, the only sound that was heard being your heavy breathing, he stepped forwards, taking off his helmet and letting it drop to the floor. He reached up and let you down from your restraints, catching your body as it fell down, limp with exhaustion. He knelt on the floor, his hand on the back of your head as it rested in his lap.

Your eyes fluttered open to see his face. He looked undeniably remorseful, and his eyes had a little amount of that special spark that they used to. You reached up and touched his face, causing his eyes to close with a shaky breath.

“What have they done to you Tech?” You whispered, your throat raw from shouting.

He didn't speak, but his heart clenched in his chest, every word you spoke bringing him further from the conditioning he had been subjected to to make him the way he was.

“How you could you let them do this to your brothers? To me? Do you not care about me at all?”

His eyes were now glassy when he opened them and looked down at you. He leant down and brought his forehead to yours, “I care for you more than you know”

Your tears were streaming down your face, “Then why are you doing this?”

Looking so deeply into your teary eyes, something in him finally snapped. He had a moment of intense clarity, fighting through his conditioning and realising the severity of his actions, of who he now was, who he had been forced to become.

He helped you stand before tying you back up in your restraints, much to your confusion.

You were sobbing now, your body and mind heavy with exhaustion, “Tech, please. Please stop this”

“I will come back for you, Cyare” He whispered, bringing his forehead back to yours with a hand on the back of your head, “I will get you out of here, I promise”

He stepped back, and was about to put his helmet back on, but he looked up to you once more.

“I am so very sorry”

You saw a tear slip from his eye, and he then placed his helmet on his head, leaving you alone once more.

Holding true to his promise, Tech returned that night. He unclipped your restraints, and you crumbled to your knees.

“Come on Cyar'ika, I'm going to get you out of here” He said gently, helping you to stand.

You tried to get a good footing, but your legs were too weak, and you fell into him. Without needing to be told, he picked you up, slinging an arm behind your back and the other under your knees. You rested your hands on his chest, looking up at his helmeted face and feeling unsure about his motivations. You were too tired to inquire though, so you just leaned your head against his shoulder and let him take you wherever he was going.

Tech carried you through the corridors of the prison, looking around corners and making sure to take the route where there would be the least guards. He constantly made sure you were still with him, as you kept slipping in and out of consciousness, so he'd place his fingers against your pulse point.

He slammed his hand into the door panel, and entered the elevator that would take you to the surface. The doors slid closed and he looked down at you, and behind his mask, he couldn't help but smile.

You looked so peaceful, so calm, so… beautiful.

For the first time, he let himself think of the future. He would get you out of here, and then he'd be free to think about his future. Maybe he'd re-join his brothers on Pabu, maybe… you would come with him. He hoped you could forgive him for the mistakes he'd made.

The doors opened, and Tech stepped out, pacing quickly across the landing platform to the nearest ship. Before he could make it there though, a bright light was shone on the pair of you from above.

“Trooper, put the prisoner down” A voice spoke through a loudspeaker, and he held you tightly in defiance.

He continued towards the transport, but was stopped in his place as blaster fire ripped through the air. His leg gave way as one of the shots grazed him, and he collapsed onto his knee, keeping you close to his chest so you wouldn’t hit the ground. He heard you let out a strangled gasp, and his heart sunk to his feet.

He pulled back from you, and sure enough, a blaster bolt had ripped straight into your chest.

He began panicking instantly, his breath quick and ragged, his heart stuttering and beating at an uneven pace. He let you rest in his lap, looking up to him through half lidded eyes that told him what he already knew to be true.

“No” He said assuredly, “You’re fine, you’re okay”

“Tech” You whispered.

“Everything will be fine” He bit into his bottom lip, completely in denial of what was happening.

“Tech” You said more firmly, though your voice was croaky, “It’s okay”

“It is not okay!” He exclaimed, tears spilling from his eyes that had quickly welled up.

He just watched you in disbelief, now unable to control the sobs that left his mouth. He had never cried so hard at anything in his life, but right now it felt as if everything was ending when it had only barely just begun.

“I'm so sorry Cyare, for everything” He whispered, his heart aching when you gave him a half-hearted smile.

“I know Tech, I know” You said breathlessly, the feeling of the blaster bolt to your heart ripping any strength from you.

Tech held your body close to him as the life slipped from you.

“It shouldn't have been like this, I should've protected you” He sobbed into your chest.

You pulled his head back and hooked your fingers under the edge of his helmet, taking it off his head so you could look into his eyes. You placed your hand on the side of his scarred cheek, and he leaned into it savouring your warm touch while he still could.

“It's okay Tech, I forgive you”

He didn't even think, he didn’t want to. Instead he just brought his lips to yours, the salty taste of his tears finding your tongue. The kiss was perfect, yet so bittersweet. It was something you had both waited years for, but now it would be one of the last moments you would ever share together. Tech kissed you so fervently, pouring every inch of his being into you, connecting his soul to yours, and in return you gave everything you had, even as it was slipping away.

He didn’t want it to end, and neither did you, but you knew your time was limited, and you had something you needed to say. You had thought that you had missed your chance before, and you’d be damned if you missed it now, in your final moments.

“Tech” You whispered, pulling away from him and looking into his glassy eyes, “I love you”

He let out a choked sob and brought his forehead to yours, “I love you too Cyar’ika, I always will”

His forehead rested against yours as you slipped away. He was whispering apologies, his eyes closed, unable to look into your eyes and see the light leave them. After a few moments, your hand fell from his face, and that's when he knew you were gone.

Tech held you close to him for a moment longer before his blood began boiling with rage. He laid your lifeless body against the ground, closing your eyes and making sure you could be comfortable even in death.

He stood, a flame burning inside of him that spread throughout his limbs, urging his fingers to find the pair of blasters that sat at his hip. He unholstered them just as blaster fire once more resumed. He dodged what he could, shooting the stormtroopers that closed in on him and depleting their numbers single-handedly, but his luck was eventually going to run out, and he knew that.

The first shot was to his shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards, but he fought through the searing pain and continued knocking down the soldiers. The second shot placed itself in his knee and he cried out as it gave way and he fell to his other knee, still fighting for his life. The third and fourth shots were the true nail in the coffin, both of them finding his chest and ripping him open as you had been. Even though he had armour, it was not enough to withstand two blaster bolts to the heart.

He fell forwards, his body sprawled on the floor unceremoniously. He lifted his head just a little to look towards your body. He grasped ahead of him and found purchase on your hand, still warm as if you were there comforting him through death as he had for you.

He laid down on his back as he saw his life flashing before his eyes, your hand clasped in his, and he mourned the life that could have been. Perhaps in another life, another time, things would have ended differently.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Th CodyWan Obsession

This one is about how CodyWan, the obsession, could be used to fix the universe. 

It actually starts before Cody becomes Obi Wan’s commander. The 212th, with Alpha-17 as the commander, went to Kamino. This is still very early in the war, where Anakin is still a Padawan. Through some random set of events Anakin meets Cody, who is an ARC trainer, while touring the facility with Alpha (Obi Wan has some meeting or another and is not able to go with them). This conversation lasts all of 45 seconds before Anakin somehow divines or decides that Cody would be perfect for Obi Wan. 

Thus an obsession is born. 

Now Anakin has next to no subtly, but even he knows this obsession must be kept quiet at first. Because he believes he knows that, while Anakin is more than willing to break The Code to be with Padme, Obi Wan would not. So before Anakin starts matchmaking he wants a loophole in place.  His Master loves loopholes. 

So, on Anakin’s next leave he dives into the parts of the code that deal with attachment. His obsession is such that he even blows off Chancellor (He does at least call Padme, but spends no time with his new wife). Because he is looking for loopholes and different interpretations, h does not just dig into the actual wording of the Code (though he does that as well, and is surprised to learn that the interpretation he thought he knew- which he does realize later came exclusively from Palpatine- is wrong) but also into transcripts of the council meetings where that wording was was decided, an every meeting where it was rehashed. 

Madam Nu assumes, as most people do, that this had something to do with his infatuation with Padme Amidala.  She encouraged what he was learning, in hopes that it gave him a good direction. 

Anakin learns a lot during this deep dive into Archives. He learns that it is not so much the marriage that is against the code, but vowing to put one being over the rest of the galaxy (he also realizes that the vows he took with Padme did not break the Code). He learns the reasons why the Jedi caution against romantic relationships (all of which are very good reasons), and the variety of ways that the Jedi had mitigated the dangers and been in a successful, healthy romantic relationship, of which he made a mental note to bring up with Padme so they do not fall into some of the same traps noted (of which Falling and killing everyone you loved is one of many bad reactions). He also learns a great deal about the Jedi Order as a whole, and dispels most, but not all, of the incorrect views he had of the Jedi Order (the views that Palpatine so carefully shaped for Anakin)

So Anakin, now armed with all the arguments for why Obi Wan should date Cody, finds his first of many obstacles. Obi Wan has no idea who Cody is.  Anakin had not been paying attention to Cody’s ID number, nor did he catch that Cody was an ARC trainer, so has no idea how to find Cody. 

He is not able to find out who Cody is before Cody becomes Obi Wan’s commander, which makes him both feel guilty (for the torture Obi Wan and Alpha-17 underwent) and vindicated (because clearly the Force agreed with him about CodyWan).  Anakin then dedicates himself to being a matchmaker. He is not good at it. 

Neither Obi Wan nor Cody ever figure out what he is doing. This is not due to any subtlety on Anakin’s part, this is because none of his efforts to match-make looks anything like traditional matchmaking.  And while no one actually tells Obi Wan or Cody, everyone else in Anakin’s vicinity finds out within 15 minutes of his obsession with getting CodyWan together. 

Every conversation Anakin has with Palpatine after Cody becomes Obi Wan’s commander devolves into the wonders of CodyWan. For most of it Palpatine has no idea that Cody is a clone (as he does not know the Clone names, only their numbers).  Palpatine is split between wanting to help get CodyWan together (because Anakin is really compelling) and wanting to kill them both extra hard (because they had inadvertently derailed, and continue to derail, his corruption of Anakin). 

And Anakin’s corruption has been entirely derailed.   His research has given him a better view of the Jedi Order as a whole, and every attempt to besmirch the Jedi to him is met with actual concrete knowledge that the negative take is wrong.  He has gone through all the requirements for listing his relationship and marriage to Padme, so when she does get pregnant they are able to go to the Temple healers, thus no need to be worried about her safety.  Even the war is not pressing on his sanity in the right ways since about 40% of his brain is consumed with CodyWan at all times. 

Padme, who is a romantic in her own right (and just as bad a matchmaking), also falls into the CodyWan obsession. She is aware that Cody is Obi Wan’s clone commander, so much of her focus is getting the Clone’s rights and ending the war so that the two can be free to be together. Her former handmaidens are watching this all with awe, horror, and amusement.  

I know that CodyWan ends up together in this one. I feel like QueerPlatonic is right for them.  I also like the idea that they get together in spite of Anakin’s and Padme’s matchmaking efforts instead of because of it. 

Palpatine gets found out, by being a bit too heavy handed with Anakin, who has since stopped being corrupted by anything more subtle and is very oblivious. Somehow during this fight Palpatine finds out that Cody is the clone commander with the Jedi (which ironically makes him forget to activate Order 66) and announces Anakin’s wish for CodyWan to have a romantic relationship.    

This is news to both Cody and Obi Wan. This is not news to literally everyone else.  After Palpatine is defeated (not killed, in this one they manage to lock him up. The fight damages his vocal chords so he is not able to activate the chips) several bets were settled about CodyWan. Palpatine himself even managed to win some bets with several senators (there is some debate as to if they should be forced to pay out, and how, since Palpatine would be in a Force blocking cage for the rest of his life).

[satancopilotsmytardis]

(In)Delicate Touch

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by @zehei Dabi has been working as a professional sub at La Vénus for a year and a half and he really does enjoy working there. The rooms are great, the way they book clients is clear and comprehensive, and he likes his boss a fair bit too. But one night a client goes too far and Dabi finds himself in a bad drop and nursing wounds he didn't want. He expects to get fired over causing so much trouble, but Tomura is there to lend a hand in any way that Dabi needs.

Content: BDSM club, sex work, bondage, impact play, safe word use, subdrop, aftercare, hurt/comfort, hand job, anal fingering, anal sex, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, praise kink.

Word Count: 10878

La Vénus is the only place Dabi bothers to take contracts through anymore. The BDSM club is the best in Kamino and it is the only one that really keeps up with the professionals who want to use it as a place to do business. They even have a portal on their website so that professional doms and subs can put their profiles, their limits, their availability, and a secure line for contacting. La Vénus has rules, of course. They're considered independent contractors and they can be removed from the club whenever the owner dismisses them, but they take a very small cut of the money they earn, and the security they provide is well-worth the price. Dabi doesn't have to be scared of giving his apartment address to anyone or going to a secondary location with a client, and V ensures that they are always abiding by the rules by having a row of rooms for their working doms and subs that have open windows, so that anyone can see inside and be certain that their business is being conducted appropriately. 

If he also happens to think that the owner is hot as fuck with his hair pushed back, his deadly fucking quirk barely contained by his gloves, and his perfectly tailored black suit with a blood red coat, and getting to check in with him before every shift is fucking perfect, then that's his business. 

"Just one session tonight, Dabi?" Shigaraki asks, checking his phone for the contract he and his dom for the night submitted for use of one of those rooms. 

"It's supposed to be a long bondage one." He explains. 

"Hmm, are you sure that all of the information you entered is correct? I thought you only used silk and no nylon for your staples." Dabi is genuinely surprised Shigaraki has paid that much attention to him, or at least to his preferences. He's got upwards of three hundred people in this club every night of the week and he's never seen the other man take a day off in the year and a half he's been subbing here. Not only that but he's got twenty doms and subs on rotation, he didn't think that anyone would bother to remember more than the names of the people he's been working with. 

"It was his first time booking, he might have mis-clicked. Can I still make adjustments to the room setup?" There's only another twenty minutes till the club opens its door and Dabi is supposed to be alone for at least an hour before his client arrives. He was planning on putting on a nice little peepshow for people, but he'd rather make certain that the room and everything is all set up for his session with a client. 

"Of course. I can have silk brought to your room." He agrees. "Do you want red to... match?" Dabi's already put up his coat and bag in the private changing area that the performers have access to, so he's just in his dark red lacy panties and the silver body chains with small red crystal dangles hanging off of them. He used to go for a blue look, but to distinguish workers from anyone else just looking to partake at the club, all of the performers from doms and subs to strippers and workshop teachers have to wear a deep red leather collar with La Venus embellished on it in silver foil. He didn't want the accessory to look out of place, and pivoted to wearing red instead of blue at the club. 

"If it's not too much trouble." Dabi always likes to think about his optics. Other people he's talked shop with around the club say they're usually focusing on a scene when they're in it, and that's great that works for them, but Dabi wants to be certain that he's staying constantly vigilant, and that he's setting himself up for future clients too. If their sessions are all going to be observable, then he is going to be a hell of a sight to see, and he's gonna make sure that he's got his aesthetic dialed in. 

"It's no trouble at all, Dabi." Shigaraki tells him easily.. "Does everything else seem alright?" Dabi reviews the contract again, and that looks like the only thing that was entered wrong, and he nods. "Alright, you're going to be in L2 today," he reaches back on the wall, unlocking the glass door and retrieving the key for the right room. His favorite room actually. He likes being on the left side because the bounce light is a little more diffused from that side, giving people a clearer view through the window, and he likes being in rooms two or three in that hall because those are the ones that people tend to linger in front of more, not wanting to clog up the entryway as they try to get to the seating areas that also line the hall. 

"Thanks, Shigaraki." He takes the key, but the owner doesn't let go of the tag for a second. 

"You know you can call me 'Tomura'." 

"Maybe when I'm off the clock, boss." He retorts easily. No matter how hot the other man is, Dabi doesn't want to get distracted. This is his job, he can't go around fucking that up by getting familiar or, god forbid, flirting with the guy who's establishment pays his bills. 

Shigaraki, for his part, looks wryly amused and lets him head out after that, the next person slipping in to confirm their night's plans as well. Dabi heads to his room to finish getting ready and wait for his silk. Maybe he will have a chance to put on that peep show after all. 

///

Dabi spends the first hour that V is open teasing his nipples and palming himself through his panties on the bed getting himself achingly hard and so close to the edge, but easing off of his peak to keep himself 'unspoiled' for his client who asked for him to be pent up and a little frustrated. Definitely a streak of sadist in him, but Dabi isn't a stranger to that, and he's looking forward to getting thoroughly worked over. 

Jin, one of the security team he recognizes at a glance, brings the new client to the door and Dabi is fully not expecting the blonde man to be so much taller than he is even after knowing he would be from his ID when he booked the session. Dabi steels his nerves. "Goto, it's good to meet you, I'm looking forward to our session." He starts with a pleasant smile. "If we can just re-touch on rules and boundaries, then I'd be happy to submit to you. Would you like to sit?" 

"Yeah, sure." The blond only has one eye, his prosthetic in the missing one looking like it's been forced into place with the metallic spikes around it that is kind of intimidating. He sits and Dabi starts to go through his usual spiel, he restates his hard limits, that they'll be using the traffic light system, the hand gestures that he will use if at any point during the session he goes non-verbal for any reason, and then he turns back to ask if there's anything he needs to go over as well. Goto is flat and unmoved when he says, "No." Sounding more bored than anything and Dabi's skin prickles with the first stirrings of discomfort. "Why are there silks instead of ropes?" 

He frowns slightly, "During the consultation, I said that I couldn't use rope over my staples. Since you said you wanted a heavy rigging session, I had it switched for silk since that's something my skin can tolerate." 

The other man considers the silk for a second before scoffing softly. "Fine. But you can take impact, can't you? If we're using silk, I want to use a paddle instead of my hands." 

Dabi doesn't normally love to use a paddle, it's wider and less accurate, meaning partners can overlap his staples on accident and leave him with fresh wounds. "I think that a riding crop would leave prettier marks, don't you, Sir?" He offers instead carefully. 

Goto looks him up and down and Dabi tries to look smaller and softer for him. Clearly he's more of a sadist than he'd originally thought, but the pay for this session is half of his rent this month. He can put up with this if it gets him what he needs. "Fine." Dabi expects him to ask about his levels, to get the toy off of the offered wall of them and test his tolerance. It's good practice for a session like this, but Dabi figures, 

"Remember, club rules state no impact with any implements across the face, and only light impact across the stomach and places prone to injury. My staples are fragile, so please avoid those where you can, but anywhere else is alright." 

"Yeah, got it, can we get started now?" The blond nearly snaps. Dabi bristles, but says nothing. It's his first time at V as far as he said during the booking. Maybe he's uncomfortable knowing the far wall is a window, even if it looks like a mirror from their side. 

He makes concessions on his politeness and breathes out a slow breath, trying to shake his tension and allow himself to slip into the headspace that he needs to. "Of course we can, if that would please my master." He simpers sweetly, trying for doe-eyed and helpless. 

The man starts to loosen some of his tension and tosses the jacket he was wearing over his black mesh tank top onto the chair in the corner of the room for more intimate cucking or voyeuristic sessions. "That's better, whore. I better not hear another mouthy word out of you, or I'm going to have to get rough." 

Not his favorite type of scene, but Dabi is a professional sub, he submits.

///

Goto is rough with him, and he likes his knots tight. They're loose enough, he thinks, for maybe one of Dabi's fingers, but his feel bigger as they move over his skin and knot them into place. He works methodically, not paying much attention to Dabi himself as he works. He occasionally pulls at the silk with an unhappy set around his mouth, but he clearly knows what he's doing, and Dabi finds himself over the course of an hour, knotted into a few different positions, as the other man gets a good look at his body and how flexible he is like this, before he ends up in a ball tie, tipped on his side. When the ropes are secure, thankfully, the other man doesn't actually also reach for a ball gag. He just puts his bigger hand over his ass, and palms him through his panties. He's not really doing much but groping him, and it doesn't really feel good, but Dabi moans anyway. 

The yelp he lets out the next second is real though as the riding crop comes down across the back of his tied thighs so hard that Dabi would put the pain at a seven already. The sound splits the air and he nearly chokes on his breath. 

"Not another nasty sound out of you, whore. You're not here to feel good, you're here for me to use." 

Dabi holds up three fingers to show that he understands, and then bites his lower lip hard as another crack comes down, this time just beneath his ass. And the next overlaps the first. Then across his exposed hip, along the outside of his thigh. It hurts, going up to a nine and holding there as the man hits him again and again with the crop. he goes over his scars, over his healthy skin, and the blood rushing up to the freshly forming welts as they swell, puts an uncomfortable pressure along his seams, especially around his thighs. He swears that between the ropes holding his legs together and pressed to his chest, and the ache of the impact, he's going to pop out his staples along those seams. 

"Y-yellow," he manages as he's panting between blows. 

"Thought I fucking said to keep your mouth shut?" The riding crop gets tossed to the bed, and in that second, Dabi thinks that he is setting it aside to check in. 

But the next robs him of that delusion entirely. Goto's hand fists in Dabi's hair, and he grabs hard to force his face into the sheets. Dabi barely manages to tuck his chin tighter to his chest so that he isn't smothered into the pillows and unable to speak as the man cuts off the other way he would be able to signal that he needs to stop. "Red!" He cries out, wanting to be let up immediately. 

"God, you whores here have had it too good. Thinking you can tell me what to do? When to stop? You need to learn your fucking place." He snarls, using one hand to hold him down while his other goes to-- Dabi hears the metal and leather sliding through each other as his belt is pulled. Fuck, fuck, fuck, 

"Red! Stop--" He hears the other man spit into his hand and his whole body goes hot with his terror. No, no, no, even if he hasn't moved his panties out of the way yet, if he gets that, or anything else in his seams when they hurt so badly, when they're so close to open, then he could get sick. He can't get sick again, he can't. Dabi tries to fumble for his quirk desperately, wanting to burn the silk from around his body, wanting to scare this fucker before he does anything worse to him--

"Don't you know that I own you?" 

It's like every string in him has been cut. Dabi's whole body goes so instantaneously numb that he can't make his quirk work. I own you. It's not Goto's voice that echoes in his mind. Not pain hits his body as he is shunted so sharply to hiding in his room with Natsuo as their father snarls at their mother. It's a stupid fear, it's an old helplessness that he shouldn't let distract himself now, not when he can't stop that memory, but he has to stop this disgusting man from ruining him even more as he hears his hand moving roughly over his cock. 

"Don't!" His voice doesn't even sound like his own, he can barely recognize it. It hasn't been filled with such sharp, anguished terror since he was burning--

"Get away from him!" There's movement, shouting, a scream behind him, but Dabi is only shakily trying to push his quirk away now, so scared he may light the bed on fire accidentally. He can't hurt his seams again, can't use his quirk right now, he'll burn it all to the ground and he's already destroyed whatever place he had here. Dabi sobs against the bed, his fear too big and sharp to make sense of whatever is happening beyond his body. 

There are voices, he thinks, furious and short, and the kind of whispers that come in the wake of something awful. He's the awful thing. He lost control of a session. He's the one who's broken, bleeding now, if not from his seams, than from his eyes as he sobs on the bed. 

"Dabi," the voice comes, addressing him and the bed dips just the slightest bit. He doesn't know who's speaking to him, just that it's not that man. This voice is low and trying to soothe him, he thinks, but it's hard to focus on anything other than the fear choking his chest and his quirk that is rioting beneath his skin. "Dabi, you're starting to smoke." The voice is so gentle. "No one is going to hurt you anymore." He waits but Dabi doesn't believe him. People are always hurting him. He's always hurting himself. Why would this be any different? He sobs harder and there is a longer pause, probably as the new voice decides where he deserves to be hurt when he's already been broken so thoroughly. "Can I touch you, Dabi?" 

He barely croaks, "R-red--" Through his sobs. He needs it to stop. He has to make it stop. 

"The scene is over, Dabi," the voice promises him. "I just want to untie you. Don't you think it would help if you could sit up, Dabi?" 

Would it? Could he make himself small on his own terms then? He sniffles, but it doesn't stop the tears. He barely manages to nod. 

"Okay, I'm not going to touch you. You just need to hold still, alright?" Dabi does his best to do as he's told, but tensing his muscles lightly makes them start to shake hard. He feels a little tug at one of the silks and then he's got the whisper of... something barely heavier than air against his skin, and the restrictive silk is gone. It happens twice more and then Dabi is able to slump against the bed, his limbs under his own control again, and Dabi does his best to push himself up, mind still swimming through a rolling sickness. Sick. He could get sick again. He could get hit again. He needs to focus. 

It feels impossible to do as he forces his mostly numb arms beneath his chest as he tries to turn around. His vision swims through his tears and he doesn't find the hulking man with blond hair anywhere in the room. The far curtain has been drawn over the viewing window, and Shigaraki is sitting at the foot of the bed, his hands resting in his lap. No, no, no. Further panic makes his ribs constrict sharply around his lungs. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry--" he sobs immediately. He's ruined everything, he's made so much trouble for the club. Oh-- oh god, he's really never going to be able to work here again. He's going to have to go back to what he did before--going to have to take on more clients like Goto, going to have to risk his health, his safety-- 

"Dabi, you don't need to apologize. I just need you to breathe. Can you do that for me?" 

He should be able to, shouldn't he? That's supposed to be the simplest thing a person can do, but he can't quite manage it past the tiny hiccupping sips of air that he's making himself in past the hitching sobs that are shaking his body. 

"...Okay, can you look at me, sweetheart?" Shigaraki's voice goes even softer, and Dabi forces himself to peek up at him from the tight hunch he's made of himself up against the headboard. "That's perfect, now I just need you to follow my breaths. You don't have to be perfect," he soothes, "I just want you to try. Can you try for me, Dabi?" 

Shigaraki takes a slow breath in, holds it for a few seconds, and then he lets it out in a long steady stream. Dabi doesn't think he'll ever breathe like that again, not when his chest is so tight, but he isn't being yelled at yet, isn't being hit, and he doesn't want that to change. He tries so hard for the first few breaths, but he can't stop crying for long enough to manage it on those. 

But Shigaraki smiles at him anyway, "That's it, you're already doing such a good job for me, sweetheart. Can you keep going?" He resumes the patterned breathing, and the soft encouragement makes Dabi try harder. He's already made such a mess, he has to be at least capable of doing this right. 

He forces himself to breathe. Each one stutters and stalls until his tears aren't so constant, until they're just a scattered few droplets on his cheeks and his lungs are able to fill a little more. In some vague, dizzy shadow of his mind, he thinks he was hoping that breathing again would make the awful, cold pit in his gut disperse a little. That maybe the breaths would loosen that knot of dread, but he doesn't feel that happen. His dread stays settled against his nerves as those wake up after shorting out to try to protect him from what was happening to his body. Suddenly, he's not just scared, exhausted, and sick to his stomach, he's in pain too, and he starts to shake, a thin whimper leaving him as he looks down at himself. He has to uncurl his knees from his chest to see the side of his thigh that was exposed to the crop. 

The welt he finds across his scar is so puffy that he can see it clearly, and it's shiny. The color is too dark for him to tell if it's blood, sweat, or if it's because it's just so swollen around the fresh wound, but it hurts and he needs... something. He can't get sick again, but he is having such a hard time reordering his thoughts, figuring out what he needs to do next when everything hurts and his mind is so foggy. 

"Are you in pain, Dabi?" Shigaraki keeps talking to him softly, and Dabi barely manages to nod. "I want to get you something to drink and some medicine, but there isn't anything here." He explains carefully. "Do you think that we can move to somewhere else where I can get you those things?" 

He doesn't want to hurt anymore. He doesn't want to get sick. Dabi barely manages to nod his head, the action feeling like it takes every ounce of his strength.

"Good, do you think you can stand by yourself, sweetheart?" 

Dabi doesn't know. He feels weak and his legs hurt more than anything else. He is shaking already when he just manages to uncurl his arms from around them. It's the first flicker of sense that goes through his head when he kicks off his pumps before even attempting to put his feet against the floor. Shigaraki stands as well. 

"Can I come closer, Dabi? You can hold onto my arm if you need help." He smiles at him as he makes the offer and Dabi doesn't have the energy to speak. He manages to hold three fingers against the rumpled sheets and moves to the edge. The shock of the cold floor against his bare feet is such a small thing to make him uncomfortable, but everything inside of him is already so messy that he can't tolerate it, pulling his legs back up. "...Is it too much?" 

He manages another tiny nod. 

"Okay, can I pick you up? I promise I'll be very gentle, and when I put you down, you'll be able to have some water and something for the pain." 

He doesn't want to think. He doesn't even want to exist right now. He leaves his fingers open against the sheets. Shigaraki can do whatever he wants to him now. He's already broken. What's another fracture in his skin? 

"I'm going to pick you up. I need you to keep your hands where I can see them so I know if it's hurting." Why bother? He won't stop if it does. 

It doesn't hurt when Shigaraki picks him up. He's careful as he lifts him off of the bed, supporting his back with one arm and the other hooking under his knees instead of his thighs to keep as much pressure away from the welts as possible. Dabi is lifted and he gives up. He tucks his face against Shigaraki's white shirt and closes his eyes as exhaustion sweeps so completely through him. 

///

He's not certain how long passes between being carried from that room to finding himself blinking as he notices that there's something sugary on his tongue. It's soda, he realizes after a second, lemon-lime soda. The sweetness of that helps him to take stock of other parts of his body. He is aching and sore. His broken body hates him again and it's his fault. It's always his fault. He should have known better, should have been more careful. But he wasn't and now he's hurting and he deserves it. 

Dabi pulls away from the straw that's being offered to him and tries to take in his surroundings. They're in one of the private rooms, the actual private rooms of the club, and instead of having the lights low and a thrum of music going through the sparse bedroom, the lights are on all the way and it's as quiet as it can be with the activities of the club still filtering in from past the door. Shigaraki is sitting on the chair that has been dragged to the edge of the bed that Dabi's sitting on. The backs of his legs hurt, and he shifts a little on the edge as the other watches him, taking the cup away and putting it on the side table when he finishes with that. 

"...I'm sorry." His voice sounds like it's been completely scraped raw as he tries to make his head clear. He needs to go. He made so much trouble. He has to leave. If he leaves by himself, at least, then he won't have to be kicked out. He would rather save some small thread of his dignity than have to give that up too. 

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Dabi." Shigaraki's voice is that same low, careful tone that he doesn't deserve. "Are you still hurting? I had Yumina bring some of the bruise salve. Do you want to put some of that on?"

The welts definitely hurt and he would really like for them not to anymore, but he just shakes his head and starts to stand. "Can I get my stuff before I go?" His voice shakes as he asks. It wouldn't be the first time he's just been kicked out without any of his things. But he doesn't know how he's going to even make his rent without V. He can't have to start over with his whole life without his phone too. 

"... If you think you're ready for that, then I need to know if you want me to call the police." Shigaraki asks. 

Dabi blanches, fear swelling through his chest and making it go tight. "What?" Did he break his contract with the club? He thought he would be fired, not arrested. 

"Do you want to press charges against him? I know it's difficult in situations like this, but if you want to have him arrested, we can do that. If you want..." Shigaraki's expression blackens, "Other repercussions made, then we can decide on that as well." 

Him? His head feels like it's still full of fluff. "...Aren't you mad at me?" His voice is tiny when he manages the question. 

That replaces the darkness on his features with something softer and more surprised in an instant. "Of course not, Dabi. You did everything you needed to, there's no reason for me to be upset with you." He watches Dabi as he says those words and Dabi has no idea what his face does, but he is even more deliberate and careful as he keeps speaking. "I'm sorry that happened, I'm sorry that I didn't get there faster. But you're not in trouble, and we're going to make sure that Imasuji never does something like this again." 

His seams beneath his eyes hurt and he feels something hot and wet drip against his thighs. 

Shigaraki sees him start to cry and shifts slightly before catching himself. "Can I touch you?" 

Dabi hesitates, half expecting to be hit again, but he finally gives a tiny nod. Shigaraki gathers him up, and pulls him close, tucking Dabi's head beneath his chin and getting him to sit at an angle in his lap so that the worst of the welts don't have any pressure against them. And then his hands start to pet so gently over his skin. He holds him and he speaks, 

"I'm so glad you called out for help. I'm so sorry that happened and I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure that nothing like this happens again. I promise that you're going to be safe if you want to keep working here." 

"...I can stay?" 

Shigaraki looks at him like he wishes he could pull all of the pain out of Dabi's skin. He curls a hand gently around the back of his neck and he rests their foreheads together. "Of course you can, sweetheart. I wouldn't want you anywhere else." 

The tears fall a little faster and Dabi tangles his fingers into Shigaraki's shirt, clinging to him as he begins to sob fresh. 

///

It's not until he notices the pain getting more intense in his legs that he tries to take stock of himself again. Shigaraki reaches over to the side table and takes one of the tissues to help dab away the blood from under his sore seams and crusted under his staples. He hisses slightly from how broken and achy they feel and is hit with another jolt of fear over how bad they must be. 

"Are you in more pain?" Shigaraki glances at his watch, "You can have another dose of pain medicine if you want it." 

Dabi doesn't remember even taking the first, but that must mean it's been hours since the last one and he feels sharply guilty for forcing the other to stay for so long dealing with him. "I'm okay," he can be. He will be, he thinks. Maybe. If he's not actually broken from everything that happened before. "I need to go home--" He tries to shift and can't help the sharp sound of pain he makes as he puts a little more weight on the welts and his aching seams. 

"Dabi, I won't make you have anything you don't want, but I need to know you're going to be alright if you decide to leave." 

He swallows, not wanting to look at him, but not trusting his muscles much after how much just that little shifting hurt. "...I need my medicine." He admits quietly. 

And Shigaraki doesn't blink. "Okay, is it in your bag? Do you want me to have someone bring it for you?" 

"...Okay." 

Shigaraki shifts his hold on Dabi's body slightly and he sees him pull out his phone and shoot off a text to Jin to have someone bring Dabi his things. He gets an affirmative, and after just a couple of minutes, Shigaraki is picking him up again so that he can put him on the edge of the bed while he goes over to the door to retrieve the bag. He brings it over and Dabi pulls out the alcohol wipes and his salve before being faced with the location of the hurts and how he's going to manage to check them. 

"Why don't you lay on your stomach? I can help you." He offers gently. "You can watch in the mirror and let me know if there's anything you need." 

He considers protesting, but he doesn't have a better option if he wants to see how these look and how fucked he's going to be trying to get back into his tight leather pants before he walks home. If he can even manage that. "Okay," he agrees quietly, making himself lay on his stomach, the chains and crystal beads pressing against his skin. He takes a shaky breath and turns his head so that he can look at himself in the mirror that's suspended above the bed. 

The welts are dark and crusted with tacky deep red scabs at some of the highest points and the places where they overlap with each other. That's not good, but Dabi is more scared of his seams as his attention goes lower. His staples are doing their best to keep his skin together, the sections there so swollen with irritation from either side of his skin being abused that they've nearly expanded past their limits, but they are, technically, shut. He gives a soft sigh of relief. Shigaraki makes sure he's watching and then starts to clean him up with gentle, deliberate movements, always giving Dabi enough time to ask him to stop before he touches the next place on his body. And each touch is light and careful. His skin is cool through his gloves as he opens the alcohol wipes and dabs away the bits of blood before going to the salve Dabi spends most of his money making sure he never runs out of. 

He immediately lets out a shaky sigh of relief at the first cold touch of the creme against his skin. The medicine is a thin antibiotic lotion that has a slight numbing effect that takes away a lot of the lingering discomfort. Knowing that he is getting what he needs, that his seams aren't actually open, that helps to take away the threads of fear in him, and he lets himself watch Shigaraki in the mirror as he rubs the medicine into his skin. 

He moves in soft circles, making sure to get along the welts and along each line of his seams and puncture of his staples. His hands are delicate, not looking to hurt him any more than he already has been tonight, and Dabi... starts to drift as the fear, pain, and worry ebb. He's being taken care of. He gets that so rarely. Normally he barely lets himself have a minute or two of aftercare once as session is over, and even then, he's usually using that time to try and get his client to book another session while they're still coming down from the high of their domination or while they're still aching for a release they'll need to find on their own elsewhere in the club. But this feels good. He can't remember the last time someone else helped him put the medicine on his skin. 

More of the pain fades as he finally allows himself to relax a little more against the sheets and he sighs. Shigaraki's hand stills for a second, but when Dabi timidly leaves three fingers open against the sheets, he feels three open in return against his thigh before he keeps tending to the wounds and swollen areas of skin. It puts a soft kind of warmth in his body that makes him want more of that. He's being careful, he's listening to him and taking care of him. Dabi wonders distantly if it says something sad and pathetic just that is enough to make his body temperature creep up a little higher the touches continue. 

He doesn't mean to let out the little moan that slips his lips when Tomura's fingers move along his seam towards his inner thighs, but it feels so nice to have a soft touch there. Dabi opens his legs a little more and shifting against the sheets lets him feel that his cock has started to harden too. Tomura stops when he hears that soft sound of pleasure and Dabi is reluctant to look over his shoulder to see his face, instead watching him stiffen over him in the mirror. A sharper fear goes through him. He wasn't supposed to make any noises, was he? Is he going to be hit again?

"Does that feel better, baby boy?" Tomura's voice is a little thicker, lower, and his fingers trail from the inside of his thighs along to the outer edge so that he's not touching any hurts anymore. And he puts two fingers against Dabi's skin, waiting. 

Is this a scene? Could it be? Dabi wants to take away the unpleasantness still echoing around in him from what came before. But... he doesn't know if he'll be allowed that, even when it's Shigaraki's collar looped around his neck. "...Yes, Sir. More?" He chances, keeping his hand as is. 

"Of course baby, just have to tell me if there's anything you don't like." He strokes along his thighs again, and Dabi watches in the mirror as he goes from just trailing two fingers over his skin, to both of his palms open, the soft leather touching his seams and healthy skin. This touch goes between his legs, up a little higher, light and good. A nice touch after the angry ones, and Dabi lets out a tiny sigh. "Does that feel nice, sweetheart?" 

He tucks his face into the sheets, giving up on the mirror, and manages a nod against them. Dabi doesn't normally get to be soft after something so rough, but the contrast feels so good. Like it's putting fluff around all the hurts that were written into his soul and skin. He shifts and Tomura's hands immediately retreat, but Dabi only wanted to push up a little, getting his knees a little more under him so that he would be able to lift his hips slightly as he starts to get harder, and to spread his legs a little more. 

"Good boy," Tomura murmurs, his hands going back to his skin and tracing circles up his thighs, deeper between them. He goes higher, but not where Dabi wants them. He wants something that feels good now. Tomura's already made things so much better. He can take away the last sharp bits of unhappiness in him, he knows he can. "You just have to show me what you need, baby boy, I'll give you anything." And he sounds a little breathless as he speaks. 

It makes the neediness in him go a little hotter and he makes himself let go of the sheets so that he can reach back and find Tomura's arm. He hooks his fingers in the edge of his gloves and feels his face go hot as he pulls at him. He lets his arm be moved and Dabi brings it further between his legs, until his fingers are grazing the edge of his panties. Tomura takes over from there and Dabi is holding onto the sheets again as he moves his fingers lightly over his covered balls and up to his hardening cock. 

"You want to feel good, sweetheart?" His voice going hotter. 

Dabi manages a little nod, still certain he won't be allowed that after before. 

Tomura's fingers stroke up his cock, cupping him through the lace as he hums softly. "I can do that, baby boy, but I need you to move for me." His hand retreats and Dabi wants it back, so he lets Tomura get him onto his back, and Dabi is confronted with the sight of himself in the ceiling mirror. His face is flushed and still a little blotchy from crying. He looks dazed as the chains glitter in the light of the room, his legs spread wide, knees bent to keep the worst of the welts from touching the bed. And his cock is hard and stretching his panties. Tomura moves between his spread legs, leaning over him carefully and blocking his view in the mirror. And there's not a trace of cruelty in his look. His eyes are warm and he's smiling at Dabi softly. "Can I take off your panties, sweetheart? I want to make your pretty cock feel good." 

Dabi bites his lip and nods. 

"Can I hear your color? It will make me feel better if I know you're using them." He asks, reaching to cup his cheek and stroke his thumb just under one of his aching seams. 

"Green, Sir." 

"Good. But you don't have to call me that, baby boy. I can be whatever you need from me right now. What do you want, sweetheart?" 

He wants to be safe. He wants to feel good. He wants the softness and sweetness that he never gets, let alone after something bad has happened. And he wants to be small in the wake of that. "Daddy," he whispers, his face going so hot with his shame, terrified that he can't have this either. 

Tomura's smile makes his eyes warm too as he leans over him, his hand shifting so that he can push his hair from his forehead. The kiss he presses there feels like a balm as much as his medicine did against his hurts. "You're doing such a good job for me, baby boy. Lift your hips a little more." 

He does and Tomura makes sure the thin fabric doesn't rub against any of the welts as he pulls his panties down his legs. Dabi kicks out of them when they're low enough and then he chances reaching for Tomura, getting one hand in his hair that is as thick and soft as he's always wondered. He lets himself be pulled up, but when Dabi wants a hard, messy kiss to reassure him that this is something he can have, he's instead given one that is so soft and achingly tender that it makes him breathless. His whole body gets a little warmer as Tomura kisses him, his hands moving lightly over his skin, stroking up his thighs before he shifts over him.

 Dabi almost whines, but he feels him reaching and hears the rustle of plastic as he finds the bowl on the side table that holds the variety of lubes that are in every room for the club-goers' use. Tomura picks one at random and brings his other hand up to tear it open, and when he wraps his hand around Dabi's length, his glove glides across his skin and makes Dabi's toes curl with pleasure. The touch there, after the pain from before, after denying himself even earlier, makes him gasp, wrapping his arms around Tomura's neck to keep him close as he touches him. 

He moans, his hips moving, trying to get more of that good sensation after a night of bad. "Daddy," he pleads. 

"I've got you, baby boy." He murmurs, pressing a kiss softly to the seam aching under one of his eyes. His fingers move over him, making sure to rub along his ladder and around his head, bringing Dabi's pleasure higher. He whimpers when he tightens his thighs around Daddy's hips and it makes his hurts ache a little. But he doesn't have to hurt for long. Tomura immediately shifts so that he has one hand under his hip, lifting Dabi's weight a bit and moving it higher on his back, making sure that none of the welts are rubbing against the sheets and that he doesn't have to try to get him closer, not when he's holding onto him, his legs supporting his lower half. And letting him feel Daddy's cock is getting hard too where it's pressed against him. 

Tomura doesn't pay his own arousal any attention, his hand moving deliberately over Dabi's cock, searching and finding every place that makes his pleasure sharper. His body is already so exhausted from the night, that it's not hard for him to get lost in the feelings, for his head to start to float into that soft good space that makes him love being a sub. And when he moans and tries to move into the pleasure, he doesn't get yelled at, he doesn't get hurt, instead Daddy gives him more kisses. 

"There, you're doing such a good job, baby boy. I'm so happy that you're letting me help you feel good, sweetheart. You're so pretty when you're blushing like this." And the words put more of that needy, squirmy heat in him through the heavy fog rolling in. He twists his wrist as he strokes him and Dabi moans loudly, hips jumping up into the touch. Daddy sees how much he likes that and he keeps doing it on each stroke, making him shiver and tremble, moans spilling off his lips and his fingers tugging at Daddy's suit jacket as his cock leaks. 

It only takes a few more of those tight, perfect strokes before Dabi's back is arching again, smoke curling out of his throat, as he cums, spilling all over Daddy's hand and his own stomach. He gasps, trembling against the sheets as that bliss soaks through his veins and leaves him absolutely boneless. 

"Perfect, baby boy. You did such a good job for me. I'm so proud of you, precious." He starts to shift, reaching for another wipe to clean him up and even floating, Dabi knows he doesn't want to get cleaned up yet. He doesn't want to stop. He wants Daddy to make him feel so good that he doesn't even remember the welts against his thighs. 

"Daddy," Tomura pauses and Dabi struggles to find more words, "More? Please?" He tries to be careful, making sure to only put pressure on the inside of his thighs as he tightens them around Tomura's hips. And then he rolls his hips down, breathless when he feels how big and hard Daddy's cock is. 

"Are you sure, sweetheart? All I want is to take care of you. We don't need to do anything else." He reassures him, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

Dabi knots his fingers in his jacket a little tighter and pulls at it, nodding. "Green. Please, Daddy?" 

"Of course, precious. But if you change your mind, if you don't like something, all you have to do is tell me, and then we'll be all done, okay?" 

"Mmhm," he mumbles, pulling at his shirt again. 

Tomura gives him another kiss, and then only partially disappoints Dabi because he does have to move away if he wants to strip himself of his clothes, the fabric getting tossed item by item onto the chair until he's only wearing his gloves. Only what he needs to make certain that Dabi is safe before he moves back between his legs and kisses his lips again. Dabi loses himself in that, his hands now getting to move over all of the pretty pale muscles that have been hiding under his clothes. 

Daddy's hands move over his skin too, touching his chest, pushing his chains out of the way so that he can play with the rings through his nipples, and over his sides, down his stomach, up his thighs. He goes slowly, his mouth going across Dabi's jaw and along his neck and collar bones, looking for places that make Dabi's skin go warm again. When his hands go lower he opens his legs wider, when his fingers, slick again from more lube touch him tentatively, he gasps, "Green," again before they start to move against him. 

He has to keep one arm around the back of his neck, still scared of being tossed aside while he's getting so close to the perfect floaty place he rarely ever gets to find, but the other knots back against the sheets, needing something else to hold onto. Whimpers and moans spill past his lips as Daddy circles his hole until those nerves are prickling with need. When his first finger presses in he feels gone, as the pleasure aches through him as his cock starts to harden again. 

Tomura opens him up with the same deliberate, gentle movements as he did to soothe his hurts and by the time he has three inside of him, moving against his prostate, he is near tears again from how good he feels this time. "Tomura!" He can't help the sounds spilling from him, his cock pressing against his stomach and drooling fresh pre from how needy every touch is making him. "Tomura, Daddy, please, please!" His nails bite into the sheets and the back of his neck. "Please, I want it, please, want your cock." 

"I'm going to give it to you, precious, just have to wait a little longer." Tomura gives him another kiss before he shifts again, pulling a condom from the bowl of them and Dabi waits with breathless impatience for  him to get it on before he's pulling him back in, and shifting to help him line up. His head rubs against his hole as Tomura untangles his fingers from the sheets, catching that hand and threading their fingers together. Before he can feel overwhelmed from the tenderness of that action, he starts to press inside and Dabi is lost in the stretch of him inside. 

It feels like it takes an eternity for him to be so deliciously, perfectly full. Tomura presses more soft kisses across his face as Dabi pants and whimpers, every breath makes his nerves sing like his whole body is trying to make up for the agony from earlier by amplifying every flicker of pleasure. He's hazy with it as he demands, "Green, Daddy," when he can't possibly stand to wait a second longer for it to get even better. 

Tomura breathes a laugh against his skin, leaning back just enough so that Dabi can see him smile. See his pretty eyes looking at him like he's the whole world. "Okay, baby boy, but you know what to say if it's too much?" He nods weakly and Tomura gives him another kiss as he starts to move. 

Dabi has never had sex like this before. He has never been so deep in the cloud of his subspace, never been touched like he was something precious. He has never had someone moving inside of his body, doing everything they could to make him feel good the way Tomura is. He makes sure that he's rubbing against his prostate, going at a slow, deliberate pace that keeps from putting any hard pressure against his seams or bruises, and he doesn't lose his patience with that. He keeps fucking Dabi so carefully instead of chasing his own pleasure, and he looks at him, holds his hand, like this is all he needs. Like seeing Dabi falling apart under him is all he could ever need in the world. Like he's not a burden, not an inconvenience, not an employee, but something... precious. It all makes his head so messy in such a different way than before that Dabi is smoking again as his quirk heightens alongside his pleasure. 

He is so hazy that he doesn't know how long Tomura is moving with him, kissing him, his hand tightening against Dabi's as they both build their ecstasy higher and higher. But Daddy's fucking him slow, so it must be a while. He doesn't know if it matters though, because when his cock starts to ache again, his balls going so tight, and just before his orgasm pulses through him again, he finds himself squeezing their interlocked hands together a little tighter. 

"Tomura," his name is a gasp and he's not expecting the other to whisper back, 

"Dabi," like he's the most important thing in the world. He really doesn't mean for that to push him over the edge, his body thrumming with pleasure that goes even higher as Tomura bottoms out inside of him as they cum together. Dabi doesn't think he's ever managed that with a partner either, but his fog is far too thick for him to care as Tomura captures his lips in another all-consuming kiss. 

///

They lay in bed together for a while, Tomura pressing more kisses and praise into his skin until Dabi stops trembling with his pleasure. Until his fog rolls back from his mind and after the night he's had, all he can do is feel exhausted. Tomura didn't bother taking off his watch when he was getting ready to fuck him, so Dabi catches the edge of his glove and pulls on it so he can see the time. 

"Fucking hell--" he starts to sit up out of the circle of the other's embrace as he realizes it's dawn. He started his session at eleven. "God, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" His stomach sinks. Fuck, fuck, he cause so much trouble for the club tonight and then he'd fucking slept with his boss. 

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Dabi." Tomura tells him immediately in the same even tone as he did before, with the same warmth in his eyes. "Are you feeling better?" 

He hesitates, taking stock of himself now that his head doesn't feel nearly as out of sorts as he had since he dropped. "Yeah... thanks for taking care of me." 

"Of course--" 

"No," he pushes a little harder, straightening his spine. "You didn't have to do that. You could have left me to deal with it myself, you could have called the cops and let me come down barely-clothed in a police station. But you made sure to take care of me here, and treated the bruises. Thank you." 

Tomura doesn't dismiss the words this time. "...You're welcome, Dabi. Is there anything else that you need?" 

"A shower, breakfast I guess, and the patience to deal with cops and heroes for a couple of hours if I decide to report that douchebag for assault." 

Shigaraki's expression darkens. "This room has a bathroom attached. If you want to go clean up, I can go get your day clothes from your locker and bring them in for you. I can't offer much as far as food goes, but I might be able to help ease the stress of the last part." 

Has Goto been held here the whole time? He'd asked if he wanted to go to the police earlier, but Dabi hadn't been thinking clearly enough to put that statement into any more context. "Okay." Tomura hesitates a second, and then leans in and presses another kiss to his forehead. 

"I'll be right back, firefly." 

///

Dabi goes and takes a shower, and by the time he's finished and dried with the towels that smell sharply of the detergent used to make sure they're clean, Tomura is all buttoned up again and Dabi's day clothes are waiting for him along with another soda, bottle of water, and a bottle of Tylenol. He takes the pain meds, downs the water, and dresses. If he goes to report this then it's going to be a long fucking day to start without a lick of sleep. He should have asked for an espresso martini, though he doubts that any of the bartenders are even still here. 

When he's dressed, white t-shirt, leather pants, leather duster, boots, and his backpack with his medicine, heels, and club clothes inside, he figures there's no putting this off anymore. 

"Okay, let's deal with this fuckwit." He says with more bravo than he feels. 

"If anything is too much, you just have to say the word, and I'll deal with it, Dabi." 

"I appreciate that, Shig, but you can only fix so much." 

Tomura doesn't stall anymore and they leave the private rooms, going through the main area of the club. It's not that unusual for Dabi to be leaving after closing, but it's definitely later than he usually leaves. He's never seen the club completely empty, even the janitorial staff having finished for the day and abandoned it. They go out of the main area and into the hallway of red rooms, and Dabi startles to find the second room on the left has been roped off with velvet barriers because the glass is gone. Dabi pauses, staring at that gaping nothing that's letting him see that the room has been thoroughly cleaned and reset even though he doubts anyone will be using it until the glass is back in place. 

"What happened?" He doesn't remember hearing any glass break. 

"I was in the main room when I noticed the commotion. I didn't want to lose time by running around to the back hallway." 

"You broke the window?"

"No," he says, continuing to move down the hall. "That could have sprayed you with glass. I decayed it." 

"You're insane." Dabi barely manages to say through his thick throat. 

"When I took over this club I said I would make it a safe place for everyone who comes to indulge. I'm not about to let one of my staff, one of my best members of staff, get hurt here." They leave the hall and Dabi doesn't know what to say to that, so he chooses to remain silent. 

Tomura takes him down the service elevator, unlocking the buttons that lead to the basement level with a key and Dabi is a little concerned. He didn't know anyone ever went to the basement levels for anything. But once the elevator is moving again, he reaches back for Dabi's hand and laces their fingers together again, bringing them up so that he can press a kiss to Dabi's knuckles. It puts a warmth, a comfort in his stomach that he's never had the luxury of before. They take the long ride down and when the doors open, Dabi finds the winding pipes and cords that he expected of a place that holds the guts of the skyscraper. Tomura coaxes him out into that tangle of piping, and Dabi follows carefully behind, his quirk sitting hotter under his skin. 

He's led around two corners before they reach a doorway that Tomura knocks on once. He hears a couple of locks being thrown and then the door opens-- revealing Jin, who sees him and immediately breaks into a smile. 

"Hey, Dabs, you doing better?" 

"...Yeah." He wants to ask what exactly is going on, but the other man moves out of the way so that they can see into the room and Dabi bristles, smoke getting trapped behind his teeth as he sees Goto, a gag in his mouth, and his arms cuffed behind him with dampeners where he is strapped to a metal chair that's been bolted to the ground. "What--" Tomura pulls him into the room gently with their entwined hands. 

"Like I said before, we can call the police if you want us to. You have a written contract and a lot of eye-witnesses that will prove that he was in violation of that." He lets go of Dabi's hand to go over to Goto. The other is glaring, his teeth bared as much as they can be around his gag, and Dabi notices that part of his arm is gone. The cuffs are hooked above his elbows because on the right side, everything from the forearm down is gone. And Dabi sees a dangerous thing in Tomura's neutral expression as he takes off his glove, resting four fingers against the back of the chair. "Or we can take care of this now." 

"'Take care of' how?" But the coldness already starting in his gut is answer enough. 

"My quirk doesn't leave anything behind for anyone to find. There isn't even DNA in the dust." He doesn't say it outright, but there's no mistaking this proposal for anything but what it is. And immediately Dabi thinks he should be scared. For as gentle and caring as Tomura just was with him, he can and has, apparently, killed people before. He is dangerous. But he is watching Dabi with that tentativeness from before. Trying to make certain, he thinks, that Dabi is alright just like he has all night. "Jin already sent a double on his way with both arms intact. He can go around living his life until he gets hurt and when that happens, there will be nothing to trace it back to you. You'll be safe, Dabi. No matter what." He promises. 

He'll be safe, he thinks, even if they do go to the cops. He'll be safe, have a club full of witnesses, and his contract-- and he knows that they still won't care. Muscular will get a slap on the wrist, if anything, and then the next time he wants to get his rocks off, he'll go find someone else who isn't in a club full of people who care about what happens to each other. He'll find someone desperate, helpless, and alone, and he'll go further than he could with Dabi-- if he hasn't done that already. "...Your quirk works on anything?" 

"As far as I'm aware." He replies evenly. 

Dabi takes a step forward and Tomura waits. Goto glares at him with his one working eye. Looks at Dabi like he can't understand how someone as low as him could possibly warrant anyone bothering to care about what happens to him at all. It makes that shattered thing inside of him sharpen into something with teeth. He reaches for his face, a flame already in hand and grabs on. 

He can't go hot enough to turn his skull to ashes, not without his seam hurting badly, but it is immensely satisfying to hear him screaming around the gag as it melts over his teeth and tongue as his eyeball boils in his skull. He takes a step back when his hand starts to hurt, and Muscular is still thrashing in the chair, letting out muffled screams. 

Tomura lets it go on for a few more seconds before he catches a part of his arm where the fire hasn't spread yet, and holds on. He screams until he crumbles away. When there's nothing on the chair but dust and the air is filled with the lingering, unpleasant scent of burning hair, Tomura steps around the chair, pulling his glove back on deliberately. Jin slips out of the door, though Dabi sees him lingering outside of it. 

"There. He can't ever hurt you, or anyone else again." He starts to move closer and Dabi takes a step back. 

"Red." The word stops the other man in his tracks, hurt flickering across his features. He takes a deliberate step away from Dabi and doesn't come any closer as he finds the rest of his voice. "...You could though," he says, feeling the prickles of anxiety under his skin. Fuck. Fuck, what did he just do? He might have gotten rid of that bastard, but Tomura owns him now. Even more than he already did. 

"I wouldn't. Not ever, Dabi. If you don't want to work here anymore, then you're free to go. If you'd like a letter of recommendation or a referral to any of the other clubs in this area, I'd be happy to provide it. If you want to stop doing private sessions for a while, then that's alright too. If you want, you can put on some classes-- or you can dance if you want. Kenji mentioned that you two have been practicing together. I can be your boss again," and Dabi doesn't expect the way that makes something go sharp behind his ribs. "Or I can be... nothing to you." 

Dabi hesitates, but Tomura keeps his distance and he can't find even the slightest hint of a lie in his eyes. He just sees them sad and worried, the same way they were when he saw how badly he'd been broken. And Dabi wants them warm on him again the way they had been when he'd held his hand as they came. It's probably wrong, probably insane, but Dabi thinks he could be very happy with Tomura, even knowing that he would destroy the world if it hurt him. He hasn't ever had someone who would take care of him. He's certain Tomura will unless he tells him to stop. And.. he knows now that Tomura will stop if he ever tells him to. 

He's the one who crosses the space between them. "I want a week away," he demands breathlessly. "You don't call, you don't check on me, you don't mess with my profile. You let me leave, knowing I could go to the cops." He catches the lapels of his suit, hands hot with barely contained flame. 

"I can do that, firefly. But," Dabi's stomach sinks, "you need to go up and see Atsuhiro to get your pay for the week. I don't want you to leave without it if you decide not to come back." 

Dabi pulls him into a hard kiss.

///

When he comes back to V a week later, his locker is exactly as he left it, and he doesn't see Tomura until he's getting ready for the consultation. He walks in and finds the other holding himself with his spine straight, looking at his tablet with a furrow in his brow. 

"Dabi, welcome back. I'm sorry, I'm having some kind of technical difficulty. Your bookings for tonight aren't showing up on the schedu--" He catches the edge of the tablet and sets it aside before stepping right back into his space like their last kiss was a minute ago and not a week, and gives him another. 

Tomura goes still against him before his hand wraps around the back of Dabi's neck, his other arm going around his waist, and he kisses him back like he's the only thing that matters in the whole world. Like he's trying to tell him that he'll never be broken again. 

"Canceled them. Just want you to take care of me." He breathes when they part. 

Red eyes go surprised before warming. "I will for as long as you'll let me, firefly." Tomura promises. Dabi seals those words between them with another kiss. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, consider leaving a comment!

[varpusvaras]

Fox and the Guard first learn about sugar once they start to do rounds in the Senate. They have these nifty little caf machines in the halls there, with these little cubes you're supposed to mix in to your liking. Thorn steals few of them once and puts one in Fox's morning caf. Sugar becomes the most trafficked substance in the Guard.

Some time later, after one really, really long day, that had included dredging in the lower levels, running up and down more stairs that was humanely possible, and being hosed down in cold water multiple times (why was all the water always cold on Coruscant?), Commander Fox goes to report to Senator Organa. He's one of the nice Senators (the nice Senator, if you ask Fox), and the man gives him one look and makes Fox sit down, and hands him a cup of something warm.

"I'm not really a chef", Senator Organa says, "and my office doesn't really have cooking equipment, so this is all I have at hand, but you really look like you need some warm food inside you, Commander."

It's against at least seven different protocols and regulations to accept anything from the Senators, let alone food, but Fox is tired and cold and the last time he has had something warm to eat that wasn't caf was...honestly he's not sure anymore.

The liquid in the cup looks to be some sort of soup, and Fox takes a sip from it. He stops and stares at it.

Senator Organa tilts his head.

"Is everything alright, Commander?" He asks.

"Yes, Sir", Fox answers quickly. "I just wasn't expecting the taste."

Senator Organa looks a bit puzzled, even if he is doing his best to to hide it.

"Well, it is rather easy to make, if you like it", he says then. "The ingredients are really basic, so I could bring some down to the Guard. It's just some roots and salt-"

"Salt?" Fox interrupts before his own thoughts have even finished. "Like, from the ocean?"

Senator Organa looks both really puzzled, and kind of like he wants to laugh. What Fox wants to do, is to die immediately.

"Well, some places do get their salt from the ocean", Senator Organa says, and then pauses. "...am I correct in my assumption that salt isn't widely in use on Kamino? Senator Burtoni complains every time her food has even touched it."

"It appears so", Fox says, trying not to sound like his next step is jumping out from the office's window.

"I see", Senator Organa nods. He then looks at the cup in Fox's hands and smiles. "Do you want some more, Commander?"

Fox also looks at the cup in his hands. It's empty. Fox doesn't remember finishing it.

Senator Organa already has more soup out, and Fox feels like it would be more impolite to say no.

"Yes, Sir", he says.

He finishes three more cups before he has to go, and Senator Organa looks vaguely like he has been robbed of a great joy in life as he cannot continue feeding Fox more soup. Fox also vaguely feels like he's been robbed.

(The rest of the Guard also seems to feel like that, judging from the looks on their faces when salt appears in their base's mess one morning, and their food starts to...have a taste.)

("Do you think it's too soon, if I introduce spices to them?" Bail asks the hologram of his wife on his desk.

"Start slow", Breha answers. "And no chilis without warnings.")

[leapingbadger]

Story Index

Thanks so much for checking out my blog!

I currently write exclusively Bad Batch and CodyWan Fanfiction. That might change in the future but that’s where my brain is right now.

I’ve moved things around a little in the hopes of making specific subjects easier to find.

Feel free to reach out with Asks or prompts, I love engaging with fellow Star Wars nerds.

I hope you enjoy and thanks again for stopping by!

***

The Bad Batch – Pre Echo

Cadets – Young Hunter struggles with his enhancements during an off-world war game the results of which could have a scary outcome. (Read on AO3)

The First Mission - As Clone Force 99 prepare for their first mission, Hunter struggles with his promotion to Sergeant and the changes their new life will bring. (Read on AO3)

Boom! – On an early mission The Batch are diverted from Kamino to help the Regs, with potentially deadly consequences. This is a multiple chapter project. Not finished yet (Read on AO3)

Withdrawal – Crosshair runs out of toothpicks on a mission and the rest of the Batch must feel his wrath. (Read on AO3)

Fallible - Hunter tries to help Tech process a mistake that he struggles to let go of. (Read on AO3)

The Bad Batch – Post Echo – Pre Omega

One of Us – The Batch help welcome Echo with his new armor. (Read on AO3)

Welcome Home – Echo has only been the Batch for a short time. Hunter tries to understand his new squad member. (Read on AO3)

Sucker Punch – Hunter tags along with Echo on a very personal mission with very unexpected consequences. (Read on AO3)

Confined - The Batch are grounded on Kamino but are unsure why. Takes place after Echo joins but before they meet Omega. (Read it on AO3)

The Bad Batch – Season 1

Missing - Set after the events of Season 1, Episode 9.  Hunter deals with the squad’s confrontation with Crosshair on Bracca. (Read it on AO3)

The Bad Batch - Season 2

Delivery - While on the famous Nerf Nugget delivery for Cid, Hunter and Echo clash over their philosophies and future plans. (Read on AO3)

Interrogation – Written as part of the Great Galactic Gift Exchange 2024. Tech asks Hunter for some advice about Phee. (Read on AO3)

The Bad Batch - Season 3

From Eriadu - The Batch deal with the immediate aftermath from the mission to Eriadu. (Read on AO3)

Hope - Set after the Season 2 finale, Hunter processes his losses struggles with his grief. (Read on AO3)

The Dark – Crosshair deals with his choices while in custody. (Read on AO3)

Amends - Takes place after the season 3 episode “The Return”. Hunter and Crosshair trust each other again and are on their way to a reconciliation, but they still need to communicate. That’s where Wrecker comes in. (Read on AO3)

Gone. Again – Taking place during the events of Season 3, Episode 11: Point of No Return; Hunter tires to catch up with Omega and Crosshair and wrestle with their precarious situation. (Read on AO3)

The Failure - Taking place during the events of Season 3, Episode 11: Point of No Return; Crosshair tries to come to terms with his failure to protect Omega and is heartbroken by the toll the loss has on his brothers. (Read on AO3)

The Bad Batch – Post Season 3 - Pabu Adventures

The Light – A few months after Tantis and Hunter is dealing with PTSD and nightmares. (Read on AO3)

Sunrise - 5 months since the events on Tantis. Hunter realizes there is more to his enhances senses than he thought and gets a visit from someone he thought was gone. (Read on AO3)

The Phantom - Six months after Tantiss and Crosshair still struggles with nightmares. Hunter tries to help Brother through his biggest hurt. (Read on AO3)

Sunset – Hunter meets up with a Liberator of Ancient Wonders to catch up. (Read on AO3)

Hide and Seek – Hunter and Omega have a quiet chat. (Read on AO3)

Tested – Hunter joins Rex on a mission and meets some unexpected acquaintances. (Read on AO3)

Goodbye – Hunter has recently learned that he can sense Tech’s ghost and has shared that information with his family. Omega comes to terms with Tech’s death with the help of her brother. (Read on AO3)

The Beach - During a surprise meet up with Ventress (in my previous story Tested), she suggested Hunter might be force sensitive. He's unable to get it out of his head and needs answers. It also includes Tech as a ghost which is discussed more in Sunrise and Goodbye. However, I don't think you need to read those to understand this. (Read on AO3)

Tattoo – The Batch get tattoos to remember the fallen. (Read on AO3)

What Might Have Been - The Batch meet up with some old friends. Hunter and Omega contemplate their choices after leaving Kamino and what it means for their shared destiny. Takes place a couple of years after Tantis. (Read on AO3)

The Final Gift – The Batch celebrate their first Life Day since settling on Pabu. Omega is surprised by a gift from her brothers. (Read on AO3)

Safe – It’s finally time to return Jax to his family after his ordeal on Tantis and time on Pabu. But as usual, things don’t go to plan. (Read on AO3)

Decisions - Omega wants to join the Rebellion but has to work to convince her brothers. Chapters 5/5.Read on AO3

The Fallen – Hunter regrets not being able to save the young Jedi on Kaller. It’s through Omega joining the rebellion that he finally gets some closure. (Read on AO3)

Fennter (Hunter X Fennec Shand)

Entangled – The Bad Batch are in need of a new ship and are short on credits. Hunter takes on a job with Fennec Shand against his better judgement to make some money, fast. When things go awry and they have the whole Bounty Hunters Guild after them, they have to work together to get through it and learn more about each other's motivation in the process.  CH 11/11 (Read on AO3)

Spoken Truths – Hunter and Fennec have been seeing each other on and off for months. Hunter wrestles with the idea of the two separate parts of his new life colliding. (Read on AO3)

Ghosts of Corellia – Fennec Shand's dark past comes back to haunt her when she is kidnapped by a Corellian crime boss she once had dealings with. Hunter launches a search to find her with the help of his family, where both him and Fennec will be forced to combat the ghosts of their pasts. CH 4/? (Read on AO3)

CodyWan

The Kiss - Obi Wan's recklessness on the battlefield draws the ire of his Commander, with an unlikely outcome. (Read on AO3)

The Misunderstanding - Cody and Obi Wan are still trying to figure out the intricacies in the early days of their relationship. When a miscommunication threatens to derail everything, they must both be vulnerable enough to talk it out. (Read on AO3)

Rumors - Cody catches up with Hunter from Clone Force 99 in desperate needs of some advice about his relationship with Obi Wan. (Read on AO3)

The Close Call – Cody is injured during a LAAT crash (TCW S7E1). While Rex and the Bad Batch continue the mission, Obi Wan races to his Commander's side. (Read on AO3)

The Deserter - Commander Cody goes on his most important mission yet. (Read on AO3)

The Sands of Tatooine - Now that Cody has reunited with Obi Wan, he struggles to understand his place in the galaxy and in the home of his former general. (Read on AO3)

Left Behind – Cody deals with the weight of the loss of Obi Wan. (Read on AO3)

Original Character Stories (Bad Batch)

Before You Go – Zadie and her rebel cell have been working closely with Clone Force 99 for months. Coming to regard them as friends, she wrestles with her attraction to their Sergeant. As the mission draws to a close will she be able to tell him how she feels before it's too late? (Read on AO3)

[archivewriter1ont]

Echo and the Cadet Batch Chapter 14: Baby Dominoes and Repaying Debts (Part Three) Is Out!

art by @littletroggo (seriously can anything be cuter than this???)

Delayed but still out this week, so we're doing great! 😁

Summary:

Hunter faces down an old enemy and has to find a way to deal with the consequences while keeping his two spontaneously adopted cadets out of harm's way. When a newcomer throws a wrench in his plan, it might not be a bad thing -- he may have just found an ally in the fight to get off of Kamino.

SNEAK PEEK: ⬇️

Hunter tried to keep the answering snarl locked in his throat but the sound just wouldn’t stay smothered. It growled out from beneath his helmet and the sergeant saw Tau Sol’s eyes narrow in response. He felt little Fives and Echo tense and scoot closer together behind him, their pulses spiking with quiet concern – though he wasn’t able to tell if he was the cause of their sudden wariness or if that dubious honor belonged to the Kaminoan in front of him.

“I said, step aside,” the scientist repeated languidly. He was just as repulsive as Hunter remembered, down to his constantly annoyed tone of voice and the strange way he insisted on tenting his long fingers together whenever he was at rest for even a second.

Though, Hunter thought with no small amount of satisfaction, that particular action was more difficult to carry out when one was fresh off of losing a finger. He noted that Sol held his right hand a little more stiffly than the left, assuming that the recent injury was either still painful, inconvenient, or both. 

He hoped it was both.

Unfortunately, remembering how the finger had been removed brought back a few less-than-pleasant memories as well – especially that of taste. The tracker swallowed to appease the sudden roiling of his stomach and tried not to shudder, recalling how many times he had rinsed his mouth out to try to get rid of the fishy taste of Kaminoan. 

He had been surprised at that, he remembered abruptly. For some reason, when he was a cadet, he had always thought they would taste more like seaweed. 

Fives shifted his weight behind him, his nervous movements sending jittery little pulses from his muscles to Hunter’s hyperacute senses. The cadets were definitely more concerned about Tau Sol than they were about the new “trainer” in the hall, and it worried him.

TAGLIST: @leapingbadger, @badbatchposts, @kybercrystals94, @maybe-some-words, @moonsstarsandscience, and @littletroggo

LMK if you want to be added to the tag list! ❤️❤️

[ominouspuff]

Tears on Kamino

CC-2224 didn’t know why the other boy was crying, but he didn’t need to. All he needed to do was pull his fingers over a shaved scalp, slowly so as not to startle, and try not to let on how curious he was to see the way the tears dripped in odd shapes down the hot, red, twisted face.

They were hidden, huddled up together — actually hidden, not just sticking to shadows in the open, because if tears weren’t, the odds were against them that things would get official, and nothing good ever came of something getting official. The closets had no cameras nor microphones, and the one they’d crammed into (seventh basement level, thirty paces from Engineering and the guards at its door) was in disrepair — was in line for being decommissioned, in fact. The Kaminoans were meticulous.

But it wasn’t decommissioned yet, so CC-2224 knew it would be the perfect place the instant that he’d pieced together that his new companion was about three seconds away from bursting into tears. They’d made it to the door in under two, but it had taken a bit of jostling and bony elbows jammed into sensitive places that might’ve accelerated the whole ‘tears’ business. 

They were here now, anyway, and they were safe. CC-2224 considered the maneuver a success.

“Hey,” He said, and it was a useless thing to say but he’d heard that the majority of what was said to crying things was supposed to be useless. Apparently there was something distracting and comforting about just — being chattered to. So CC-2224 did his best. “Our rations are made from bugs. I would’ve guessed fish, but they don’t have the nutrients. Plus fishing is a dignitary sport anyway-”

“Would you - shut up -” The other boy interrupted wetly, heaving with great big breaths that diminished his chest to half its size with every gasp. His face was — if possible — redder than before. His brown eyes were sharp, and they were glaring at CC-2224 from beneath his brows, hardened with a painful-looking panic. “Just- stop talking.”

CC-2224 digested this request (such as it was) in silence, weighing the odds that the boy knew better than he did what was needed. He scrutinized the glare in the dim lighting, but it was clear and steady enough. CC-2224 nodded agreement, lips sealing tight. He kept stroking the shorn head, the space so tight between them that all he had to do was swivel his wrist a little — the boy hadn’t asked him to stop that, and he hoped he wouldn’t think to.

He signed with his free hand instead of speaking, furrowing his brow to clarify it was a question.

The boy’s glare wilted slightly as he focused on tracking the signs. Finally he blew out a shaky gust of air. “CT-7567.” He said, and it was very strange to hear him try to put firmness and confidence into it when he could still barely breathe without hiccuping. “You could tell that by checking my code anyways.” He explained defensively — as if he thought CC-2224 might judge him harshly for revealing it or pounce on some kind of opportunity.

Then again, if CC-2224 hadn’t just dragged them both into a protected space, it would’ve been smart to be suspicious — and he would have had to investigate a bit to find the other boy’s code. Seeing as CC-2224 had done all sorts of helpful stuff, though, the second-guessing was a poor show — one that immediately made CC-2224 that much more certain that CT-7567 had been crying because he was an idiot.

He’d heard that, in some places, ‘idiot’ was just an insult. It wasn’t that way on Kamino. Idiots didn’t last long; the Kaminoans were, after all, meticulous about utility. Closets weren’t the only things getting decommissioned. Pretty common reason to cry as far as CC-2224 figured, and it would explain their current predicament.

It was enough to grim up any vod, but there might be hope yet. 

CC-2224 settled his back against the wall, breathing deeply, and imagined he could see the sim-walls — that he could read the fake mission update on the holo, letters glowing, challenging him to find a way to beat it. (Pretending helped him think faster. Being too confident was a weakness, but if CC-2224 knew anything, it was that he was very good at this.)

There were immediate gaps in information he needed for the mission’s resolution — holes that needed filling before he could pick the next direction. His hand moved almost of its own accord, signing fast and hard. 

CT-7567 watched, his breathing evening out by painful increments, brows furrowed in concentration where another cadet would have followed easily. (CC-2224 held his breath at what that might indicate about CT-7567’s intelligence, and he resisted an urge to suck his teeth.)

“Stop, stop,” CT-7567 finally snapped, flapping a hand right into the middle of the signs. “They haven’t taught us that, yet — I only know pieces. Talk instead.” 

“Oh, good, I thought you were stupid.” CC-2224 said in relief, and startled when the other boy hit him hard on the shoulder. “What? It’s not uncommon. If you had been, you’d be dead soon.” He snapped, narrowing his eyes and leaning backwards.

CT-7567’s red face blanched, both splotchy and pale at once, and CC-2224 nearly got distracted by how different it made him look. Later. He could think about it later, when CT-7567 wasn’t in danger anymore.

“Stop panicking.” CC-2224 said, and it came out a bit nasty, but his shoulder was still aching. CT-7567 hit hard. “What’s your defect?”

CT-7567’s fear turned to outright terror, but they were so far beyond that now it was almost silly to see. CC-2224 was no Kami, nor a Good One — if he had been, he’d have reported CT-7567 from the start just to get an edge.

(Among clones, it was a taboo question. It still got asked, but only as a last resort; usually quietly, to a terrified boy in a corner with several others hemming him in, trapping and shielding all at once. Tell us, the braver ones would say, maybe we can help. 

Sometimes they did help. Other times they made things official. ‘Identifying and reporting issues’ was something high-functioning property was supposed to be good at. They liked how following procedure made things easier for them, and if it didn’t come at the expense of another clone, CC-2224 might not have blamed them.)

CT-7567 stared at him like he’d damned the name of Nala Se herself. But just as CC-2224 was bracing himself to hear something stupid, like ‘what defect?’, CT-7567’s eyes narrowed and his spine straightened and CC-2224 suddenly knew — 

‘Idiot’ wasn’t the defect. The defect wasn’t even in that category. CT-7567 was just smaller than CC-2224 had figured, and there was something more serious going on — something big and obvious and unfixable that made little things helpless the bigger they got, the more it grew, the harder it was to conceal. Helpless vod got desperate, and sometimes acted like idiots, but that didn’t make them one. 

“You’ve got your hand on it.” CT-7567 said cryptically, but blessedly (for the sake of CC-2224’s dwindling patience and proportionally increasing anxiety) followed up with: “My hair. It’s wrong; gets white splotches when it grows.”

Ah. Actually, CC-2224 knew something about things like that. “That why you have it shaved?” He clarified. The buzz felt nice under his fingers.

“Yes.” CT-7567 muttered. “But the splotches are getting bigger.”

Bleaching. CC-2224 knew even more about that, though not from experiencing it personally. 

Bleaching was common. It meant that hair began to lighten in odd places or patterns — usually before maturity, but some unfortunates were late bloomers.

CC-2224 had once caught a glimpse of a fully fledged CT being transferred on a hover bed to decommissioning, hair speckled with white. It had been a shock to realize it could happen that late — that they couldn’t be sure they were safe, even after maturing.

There were some solutions he knew of already, but they were difficult, and resources limited. Even the best ones relied on luck so heavily that CC-2224’s nose wrinkled, and he bent himself to the task of thinking up other solutions. 

Five minutes of silence and thoughts and buzz beneath his fingertips ticked by before CT-7567 brought CC-2224’s awareness abruptly back into the closet. 

“Your fingers are trembling.” He said, so much steadier now — maybe because he was focusing on someone else’s problem. CC-2224 knew the feeling well; if a clone wasn’t careful, they could get obsessed with it, to the point they forgot to take care of their own business entirely — and that ended in death too, of one sort or another.

“They do that,” He said distractedly, stifling the spark of irritation that being interrupted ignited in his chest — like a petty little mouth full of sharp teeth, nipping at his ribs. He focused on the buzz beneath his fingers. “They do it when I’m thinking. I like solving problems.”

“Oh.” There was a lot in that ‘oh’, but CC-2224 couldn’t spare much brainpower to track it — he was using it on other things. Then, after a pause, CT-7567 quietly said: “Thank you.”

“Haven’t solved anything yet. Thank me when I do.” CC-2224 pointed out — this time with significant impatience at being interrupted — and CT-7567 grunted in acknowledgement of the wisdom behind that, at least.

CC-2224 thought harder, holding his jaw carefully loose so he wouldn’t chew his lip. The silence stuffed his ears full, and he danced from idea to problem, from solution to unexpected flaw, until there were no more flaws and his lip hurt because he’d forgotten not to chew it.

The closet came back into clarity, and CC-2224 stilled his shaking hand. He couldn’t quite contain his grin, though. “Got it.” He said — and because he really did have it, he let his pride show. With luck, it would help reassure CT-7567 it was true, and he’d be confident instead of second-guessing everything. “C’mon. We’re going to need a few things.”

They spent the next few minutes trying to do damage-control on CT-7567’s unbelievably splotched face. 

CC-2224 donated his socks to the cause, wetting them in the sanitization pump (it leaked on his bare feet, but he offered that up as a painful necessity), and wiping the tears away methodically. CT-7567 bore it stoically, every ounce of his will bent on forestalling more tears — and he managed it. His skin went back to normal and his pinkish eyes cleared up. They couldn’t help the swelling of his lids and nose, but that was a manageable risk.

CC-2224 did some rinsing and ringing out, then put his slightly soggy socks back on, sealing his boots up just as he would for a dry pair, already resigned to the blisters. CT-7567 dithered a bit, watching with a distracted nervousness and looking ready to suggest they wait out the swelling too, but wisely thinking better of it. They’d been in the closet for fifteen minutes already; any longer would definitely be too much of a risk for being noticed.

“On me.” CC-2224 said authoritatively once he was done with his boots, and at first it felt silly to include the other boy in pretending, but CT-7567 straightened and took it seriously and calmed in an instant, and CC-2224 felt vindicated that he’d guessed the right approach — that he wasn’t the only one who liked this tactic. 

“Sir yessir.” CT-7567 said — and the unexpected honorific hit CC-2224 like a battering ram. 

It felt — Bad. Strange. His mouth dried, and he blinked slower so he could hide a moment in the black behind his lids. 

Mission, they were on a mission, and CC-2224 was a commander, like he was supposed to be. He needed his brain working fast and his CT obeying faster, if this was going to work. 

“Let’s go.” He croaked, a bit hoarse, a bit excited. (His hands still trembled a bit when he opened the door.)

[pikahlua]

Look, it's probably still not time to go really deep into it, but I did mention there are ways this ending where Tomura dies could work for me. Honestly I didn't have much of an issue with chapter 423 itself before the internet's emotional onslaught over it, but now that I'm hearing rumors the chapter was received well in Japan and a number of western fans have decided to couch all their disappointment in racism and rage at the target readership, maybe I should give some cursory thoughts just to counteract the stupid.

The Bittersweet Ending

Here's the thing. For all the game the bird app likes to talk about how MHA is happy and kid-friendly and not dark and that's bad somehow, it's kind of funny to me how little MHA actually meets expectations in that regard. If I were to divide MHA arcs into categories based on their endings, I would probably have to put the majority of them into the "makes me cry" category. Even arcs where the hero wins with ostensibly happy endings often have absolutely gut-wrenching moments, like All Might's retirement in the Kamino arc, Tsuyu's apology in the UA Dorm Contest arc, and Nighteye's death in the Overhaul arc. I don't think it's possible for me to watch the Sports Festival arc and come out of it with anything but mixed feelings of hope and haunting. Stain may have lost his battle, but his effect on society sure seems to give him the win when it comes to the war. The Paranormal Liberation War arc has a pretty rough ending where there may still be a sliver of hope, but goodness is it a small one.

Sure, some of the teariest moments are a result of happy scenes like Eri smiling for the first time at the cultural festival, but what I'm getting at is that MHA tends to go for more hopeful endings rather than happy ones. And those hopeful endings are often stained by some other tragedy, a price to pay for the hope. Just because MHA isn't full of random death doesn't mean it doesn't contain poignant loss. This was one of its early selling points in fact. MHA's most hopeful moments have always felt so real because the story acknowledges that these things should often play out messily. We've seen the mess, and now chapter 424 has given us a glimmer of hope. The question is now where the story will take us from here.

The Anticlimax

This post has come back for me in the most unexpected way, not gonna lie.

I often hear “anticlimax/anticlimactic” used as a negative criticism, especially colloquially. This criticism assumes an anticlimax is always written unintentionally. But that’s often not the case; anticlimax is actually fucking fantastic when placed in the right hands. And Kohei Horikoshi is a goddamn anticlimax connoisseur. I say he’s a connoisseur because Horikoshi has the gall, nay, the gumption–dare I say the balls to showcase the versatility of anticlimax as a storytelling technique for more than just comedy (although he does also use it for comedy a lot). He dares to use it in action scenes, horror/thriller scenes, and even fuzzy heartfelt scenes, all to the great effect of toying with our emotions. And he successfully has us feel exactly what he wants us to every time–because that’s the point. These aren’t cheap jokes; they serve a purpose! They illustrate an actual, meaningful point about whatever scenario they are used in to make the story more realistic, to combat the fridge logic “well actually” complaints endemic to fandom. Because Horikoshi is a fan himself.

When I write "realistic," I don't mean to apply this quote here to indicate that death (especially for edgy aesthetics) is realistic. I mean to indicate that imperfection is realistic. Izuku isn't a perfect hero. Tomura isn't a perfect victim, and by victim I mean "character for the hero to save." Izuku says it himself:

A perfect victim for the hero to save would yield to the hero's attempts to turn and save them. They would see the wisdom in the hero's position and 100% change sides to agree with them. Trite.

Doing this runs the risk of erasing the victim's identity that comes before. Izuku never has a perfect answer to all of Tomura's problems with the world.

Izuku is the same as All Might. He's only human.

[...]Horikoshi has no compunctions using anticlimax in big, important, non-humorous scenes (even if the anticlimax ultimately adds humor to the scene that was otherwise unexpected). This man has no fear. He ends his famously popular take on the tried and true trope of tournament arcs with one big let-down that affects not just the audience but the in-universe characters. [...] You wanna tell me Horikoshi didn’t know exactly what he was doing here? You wanna tell me Horikoshi didn’t know about the fandom war over Katsuki’s hero name? That he didn’t purposefully fucking troll the fandom with this? That this isn’t the single greatest brick joke in the history of published media for its effect both in the canon and in the meta? Fuck you, we’re building up the tension around the most wildly popular character’s hero name reveal for 248 goddamn chapters (that’s five-and-a-half years) just to make it the cringiest fucking thing you’ve ever heard in your goddamn life. His hero name must be the closest audio rendition anyone can imagine shaped like a middle finger and fucking nothing less will suffice. Congratulations, fandom: you played yourselves! You made a war no one could win! Horikoshi could have chosen Ground Zero or Kacchan as Katsuki’s hero name and risked alienating half his fandom either way, but you didn’t realize there was a third option, which of course he took: to risk alienating the entire fucking fandom.

I'm just saying, an ending like this isn't out of character for Horikoshi. In light of this trip down memory lane and Izuku's parallel with All Might in that they acknowledge they cannot save everyone, I'm interested to see what Horikoshi does with this ending whether or not Tomura survives. What sort of hope will he offer?

The extended ending arc

The only real extended ending arc we've had in MHA that might give us a glimpse at the inner workings of Horikoshi's mind is the School Cultural Festival arc. Because of that (and the many other things I've mentioned before this post), I will say there is cause to believe we will have a hopeful ending. Again, I don't know what that looks like. A lot of people seem to have a specific thing they need to have happen to save the story for them, and I cannot speak to those.

Except for Deku vs Kacchan 3, which is what I need to have happen lol. And god does it seem really fucking possible now.

[elslittlestories]

Since when our favorite squad has been in active duty ?

Sharing this to add up to @miss-musings 's very detailed analysis of The Bad Batch timeline. If you haven't read the post, I highly recommand it! See link bellow:

Thanks to a piece of dialogue between Wrecker and Tech, we know their last detachment lasted 180 days (205, if you adjust to galatic zones change but I'm not gonna consider that because I want the number of days they actually lived)

Wrecker also tells us that during those 180 days, they executed and succeded 11 missions.

Which gives us an average duration of 16,4 days per mission.

During that scene in the baracks, we also catch a glipse of the board where they keep track of their missions. I've counted 11 groups of 5 tally marks, so 55 missions.

There are 2 possible sources of error here, because 1- I'm assuming the shot pans through the whole board but there could be more marks that we don't see, and 2 -Since it's been said they have a 100% rate of success in The Clone Wars episodes, I consider it's stil the case and that all the missions are marked on the board

With the average lenght of 16,4 days per mission, that leads us to 902 days. So roughtly

2,5 years

(Note: it is my understanding that a standard year in Star Wars is 368 days, so really close to our year)

From Wookepedia, I place the event surrounding order 66 and the creation of the Empire and therefore the first episode of The Bad Batch in the middle of the year 19BBY

"The anniversary of the Empire's creation was celebrated yearly, on the twenty-third day of the fifth month using the Great ReSynchronization (GrS) dating system based on Coruscant."

Clone Force 99 would have been promoted and sent in active duty at the beginning of year 21BBY.

To try and place it in the Clone wars timeline, that would be about a year after the battle of Geonosis (beginning of the war) but before the attack on Kamino that lead to 99's death (TCW S3E2 Arc Troopers).

I like that because I headcanon the Domino squad was propably training on Kamino around the same time and that they are close in age. I'd like to think they got to interact together thanks to 99...

Let me know if you think this make sense or if you came up with another number!

[yoitsjay]

Hi Jayyyyyyyy, I have another ask!

Wrecker x reader

Prompt: Wrecker finds out the reader also sleeps with a stuffed animal! 🩷🩷🩷

Thanks!!!

I got you pookie

Stuffies

Pairings: Wrecker x gn reader

Summary: wrecker finds out you have a stuffed animal

Warnings: endless fluff, mandalorian twist

Word count: 862

You had been a much later addition to the bad batch, before the war ended but after Echo had joined with the bad batch. You had been enlisted in the GAR as a certified fighter class mechanic and pilot. After your special unit fell in combat due to sabotage, you were placed with The Bad Batch.

They had respect for your backstory, and sympathy for what happened to your crew. You quickly proved to be an excellent fighter and pilot, and on top of that you made all the repairs with minimal help, and were good at it too. So they trusted you quickly.

After the fall of the empire, your world basically crumbled around you, especially when Crosshair turned his back on the group. Now Omega was always by your side trying to brighten your day, she understood that you had a certain bond with Crosshair, like you did with all the brothers.

Wrecker also happened to be the most supportive of your feelings, advocating for your ideas when it came to plans, always lending a listening ear when you needed it…

Nobody knew this, but when you had first landed on Ord Mantell you had slipped off to the markets there, having found some credits to spend before they would go missing… and you bought yourself a stuffed plush of your favorite animal, one that only roamed on your homeworld, which again was a mystery that nobody knew… But you had found a plush of the mythical Mythosaur, a great beast from Mandalorian legends…

That’s right, you were Mandalorian by blood, as much as you never wanted to admit it. You only told the people who needed to know, and the people you trusted like your old squad, but you hadn’t broken the news to anyone else yet.

It was funny though, when you found out that almost all clones knew Mando’a, or were learning it, it made you wonder what you could get away with pretending. Like how you pretended not to know when Crosshair called you smart, only to lie and say that he called you stupid.

A sigh escaped your lips, flicking through all the saved memories on your holo pad as you were curled up in bed. You couldn’t sleep, the nightmares of what happened on Kamino still plaguing your mind.

You were so distracted with your holo pad and your own thoughts that you hadn’t even heard the creaking of Wrecker emerging from his bunk, walking over to yours… However his surprised gasp made you flinch as you turned around with a look of concern, your Mythosaur plush held tightly in your arms.

“You sleep with a stuffy too?” Wrecker asked, his grin wide as he stared at you. His word’s caught you off guard, having been thinking his gasp led to something more serious. However you glanced down for a moment, looking at the plush in your hands before you looked at Wrecker, offering a sheepish smile before speaking up in a whisper.

“Let’s not wake the others, come on.” You whispered, climbing out of bed before heading to the cockpit. You tapped Tech’s shoulder, silently telling him that you’d take over the watch. He nodded, and noticed the plush in your arms but said nothing and left to go get some sleep. You sat down in the pilot's chair, turning to look at Wrecker.

“It helps me sleep at night, or it’s supposed to anyway… this is a beast from my homeworld… from… Mandalore.” You expressed, glancing up at Wrecker before looking away again. “You’re- your mandalorian?” He asked, his voice slightly raised. You quickly shushed him, glancing out of the cockpit before nodding. “I was… I ran away. My father was a part of The Death Watch, and I wanted no part in the slaughter of innocents… My clan used to be proud not to shed needless blood… but not anymore.” You huffed, squeezing your plush tighter.

Wrecker offered you a sympathetic smile, and reached his hand out gently before squeezing your thigh. Warmth spread across your cheeks for a moment, but quickly dissipated. “Are you goin’ to tell the others?” Wrecker asked, however you shook your head. “Not yet… I'm… not ready… it was hard to admit now but- you've always been my favorite Wrecker.” You teased softly, seeing Wrecker’s face light up at your teasing words.

“I’m your favorite huh? well don’t worry i won’t tell.” He replied, squeezing your thigh again before standing up, pulling you with him and into a tight hug. “I’ll always be here for you yea? so if you need lula too, just ask.” He offered, squeezing your body before setting you down. You beamed at him, resting your head on his chest for a moment.

“Maybe I'll take you up on that, thank you Wrecker.” You whispered, and soon you went back to your cot with Wrecker taking the watch since he would have switched with Tech. And now with both the Mythosaur AND Lula, you fell asleep, plagued by no nightmares… dreamlessly sleeping knowing that Wrecker was always there for you…

He always had you back, especially now that you were stuffy buddies.

➺

Tag list:

Wrecker:

All:

[verpineshatterrifle]

okay so your post abt alpha-17 and the other alpha arcs got me thinking (and im sorry for using you as sw google but in my mind you're Alpha Legends Lore mutual) who ARE the oldest clones? I feel like everything got... really confusing with a bunch of super secret REAL first clones getting shuffled into the order. is boba the oldest? in my mind it goes 1 boba 2 nulls 3 alphas 4 the rest of the initial clones that obi-wan saw in aotc but I have no bloody clue 😭

I AM HONORED TO BE YOUR LEGENDS LORE GOOGLE MUTUAL

ok so. sources probably conflict bc this is star wars, of course they do. what i care about is repcomm so we're just gonna go with that as our primary source with wookieepedia as secondary sources

first we gotta get some dates. unfortunately star wars doesnt really give months for most dates but years is still a starting place. these dates are all pulled from wookieepedia, legends page when applicable/different

also we're using geonosis as our date reference point since the timeline is honestly so hard to work with

order 66 happens 19 bby

1st battle of geonosis, 22 bby, the clone wars are 3 years long

boba fett's birth date is listed as 32 bby, meaning he was 10 at geonosis. cody, rex, ordo, fi, spar, and sull are all also listed with a birth date of 32 bby, so we're down to a difference of months here. essentially they're all the same age though- boba himself, troopers, nulls, commandos, and alphas

I REPEAT. ALPHA IS NOT SIGNIFICANTLY OLDER THAN THE CORE OF THE GAR. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. HE ISNT THE ONLY ALPHA EITHER.

but who's actually oldest? and is wookieepedia entirely correct? this is the part where i open repcomm and ignore everything else. i don't even know if anything else contradicts because i'm not checking

chapter 1 of triple zero, kal has just arrived on kamino. it's eight years before geonosis, and 2 years into the cloning program

(ALSO ITS SO FUCKING GREAT THAT THIS IS KAL'S INTRODUCTORY LINE LMAOOO <3)

he does see a lot of clone babies in gestation vats, just like we see in attack of the clones as well as cadets of varying ages- the kaminoans continue producing troopers through the entire ten years of the cloning program, so yes, the 'first generation' (clones deployed at geonosis) ARE older than a lot of later clones. but we dont really have a lot of those later clones as named characters as far as i know

anyways

the nulls appear to kal to be 4 or 5 (also peep jango apparently being legitimately shocked by them)

chronologically the nulls are NEARLY two, which probably means like 1 year and 11 months or something

(pause for me to cry about this entire scene, 'kal was instantly proud of all of them,' 'how would you like to be called ordo, he was a mandalorian warrior,' kal teaching them to embrace their fear as a mechanism their body uses to help protect them, but this is gonna be long enough as it is)

and then we have jango showing up with boba. no real indication of if boba or the nulls are actually older, but it's implied that they're very very close in actual age, if not the same age. we also get mention of the commandos and the alphas.

now, this is now just down to what i think and what makes sense to me. the whole point of the nulls is that they were experimental units- the kaminoans wanted to see if tinkering with the genome would be worth it, and ultimately decided it wasn't. it would actually make sense to me if the nulls were at least a year or two older than the rest of the clones- the kaminoans need time to see if their experiment panned out, don't they? but the nulls are also 10 at geonosis

while the nulls have been flash-trained and put through some trial runs at this point, it's indicated that the alphas and commandos aren't quite ready for training yet. this could be because the alphas and commandos are just a bit too young yet, it could be that the kaminoans put the nulls through training at a younger age than they're doing for non-experimental units. not totally clear

this is another point that is important to me: multiple times the nulls pass for clone troopers. i keep seeing headcanons of them being noticeably taller/bigger than other clones and while it is true that they're canonically slightly heavier, i think the difference is probably like 10-20 pounds, most people cannot easily tell the difference. ordo puts on corr's armor and just notes that it's slightly tighter than he's used to. mereel infiltrated kamino in trooper armor unnoticed, even while directly speaking to a kaminoan

here is my opinion on it: -the nulls and boba are basically the same age -the alphas were created next, but a few months after. by this point the kaminoans had decided (possibly because of the nulls' high mortality rate in gestation) that the alphas would be fully unaltered aside from the accelerated aging. the nulls' behavior 'issues' proved to the kaminoans that this was the right call -the commandos were created at the same time or shortly after the alphas. we're talking within weeks if not days. they have minor genetic changes to work better as a team but that's about it. -the troopers then begin production, now that the kaminoans have lots of practice altering jango's genome. heavy alteration for better social cooperation and obedience. -we're talking a span on like 4 months for all of this

you could say that ordo's gray hairs support the nulls being maybe 4-6 months older than everybody else, but i really think he is just that stressy, and there's also book evidence for clones actually aging at variable rates depending on how much stress they're under

quick note for omega: i think her existence is just insane and she's only here because disney was making a children's show and needed a child character (and girl so they can get inclusivity points), but i could see her being made anywhere from at the same time as boba to up to 3 years later. her wookieepedia page doesn't say, because the bad batch never bothered to give us any concrete information on... anything.

WE ARENT EVEN TOUCHING ON EMERIE. WHAT THE FUCK