#like there are innocent people being caught in the crosshairs on both sides

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

I’m sorry but you can’t cry “human rights violation!!!!” when you are actively carrying out a campaign of genocide.

[clone-wars-imagine-2]

Bad Batch Preference: How you meet and grow closer together

A/N: I hope people enjoy this and I guess I am back on here. Hello people who still follow me!

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Sergeant Hunter: You were surprisingly a Jedi and not just any Jedi, you were Anakin Skywalker's twin sister. Being the sister of that knucklehead wasn’t easy but if you managed him you could manage everything. Hunter and you met through Cody as the Bad Batch often reports to him and on one of their mission debriefings you walked into the room in full Jedi attire, beaten up from the battle you just came back with a grin on your face. Hunter felt like his heart stopped as your two gazes met and he knew right then and there he wanted to be with you.

For you it wasn’t any different. When you looked into his eyes you immediately felt a connection to him you couldn’t describe even if you tried. Something drew you to him and it made your heart skip a beat. At first you didn’t know if it was the force playing tricks on you or not. And to be honest the face tattoo he had was something that intrigues you and added something to the attraction you felt towards him and you were sure to ask him why he got it.

You two got to know each other when you requested their help on a mission on gathering some intel about something the sepratist were planning. The mission went exceptionally well and you not only grew closer with Hunter but the rest of the Bad Batch as well. You liked them a lot and you felt like they felt the same. It didn’t take long for you to decide that joining them wouldn’t be so bad and you worked better with them than any other troop so it was decided.

Being with them brought something new and exciting to your life and every day you learned more about them and how to maneuver the galaxy than you ever did with the Order. Of course you made sure to learn as much about the sergeant as possible.

Crosshair: The last mission of the Bad Batch went, nicely said, horrible leaving all of them with injuries so it was decided that they would get a medic assigned to them. Neither Crosshair nor the others wanted a reg among them and protested until the supervisor caved in and decided to assign one of the voluntary medics to them. Then in came you, a sunshine in person smiling brightly at all of them introducing yourself as their new medic.

Crosshair absolutely hated you in the beginning, yes you were better than a reg, but he despised your upbeat and innocent attitude from day one. You knew that he disliked you, he made it very clear by telling you to your face, but that didn’t stop you from being nice to him and getting feelings for the sharpshooter.

It took over six months and a reveal about your past during one intense mission that he started to see what was behind your facade and understand you. You all were on a mission to free a Jedi General that was captured a few weeks prior and the planet it brought you to was your old home planet. You begged Hunter to let you stay on the ship for this one and he was ready to leave you there until Crosshair interfered with one of his snarky comments that made your walls come crashing down.

“Excuse me that I do not want to run the risk of seeing my kriffin abusive family again, Crosshair! I spent years trying to get away and I am not about to lose all that kriffin progress because of you asshole!”

None of them has seen you in any shape, way or form angry and you screaming at Crosshair, seething with anger even made him shut up. In the end you stayed on the ship until they came back with the General. It wasn’t until that night that Crosshair came to you and apologized, actually apologized for once, and you two talked it out, paving the way for a future where you two would get along in more ways than you’d expect.

Tech: You two first met through a forum where things about technics and new inventions got discussed. One of your comments caught his eyes because you explained the flaws a new X-Wing model had and how it could be easily fixed. Tech was impressed with your statement and sent you a private message in the forum, starting a discussion between the two of you that lasted for three days. You immediately became friends and chatted every day.

The first time you two met in person was because threats were made against your father, Senator Bail Organa, and because you always tagged along with him he wanted to request protection from the Jedis. You knew that that was your only change and so you told him about how the Bad Batch were the best around and with a bit of prodding, begging and some luck they were assigned to your and your fathers protection.

They protected you for the next three weeks and it was the best three weeks of your life. You spent every single second you could with Tech, getting to know him and ranting about everything that came to your minds. It was a bliss and even though Tech was a bit insecure at first about you being a princess it didn’t hinder the both of you to start a relationship.

Wrecker: Being one of the best inventors and mechanics in the galaxy had its perks but also its downsides, one of them being that when the war came the Republic wanted you in their ranks. They were persistent and the only reason you said yes was so they left you alone, it worked in some ways at least.

You met Wrecker after he and the others came back from a mission where they barely escaped which left the Havoc Marauder half destroyed. You went by them without paying them much mind besides the half giant that was Wrecker which caught your eyes for a moment. Your heart ached seeing the modified omicron-class attack shuttles so ruined and you immediately went to work on it.

It took Wrecker a long time, and some nudges from his brothers, to muster up the courage to talk to you because of your cold and distant behaviour towards them when they first met you, but when he finally did he was pleasantly surprised. You were kind and soft to him and answered every question he asked you. Something about how Wrecker talked to you and how nervous he was in the beginning made your heart immediately melt for him.

Throughout the whole repair process Wrecker would be glued to your side, talking to you about some of the missions they had and crazy stuff that happened. He would also listen to your rambles about your newest inventions and whatnot. When the ship was finally repaired and they left again Wrecker promised to comm you every day which he kept, even if they were in the middle of a battle. It was one of the cutest things ever and it was one thing you loved about him.

[itsclydebitches]

The Bad Batch: A Crosshair Analysis

Hello, Star Wars fandom! I have just completed watching—and loving—The Bad Batch, which you know means I now need to dump all my thoughts about the first season into the tumblr void. Specifically, thoughts on the complicated drama that is Crosshair. I have no doubt that the majority of what I’m about to say will be old news to anyone who watched the show when it came out (I’m slow...), but I’m writing it all out anyway. Largely for my own sanity enjoyment :D

I want to preface all of this by saying that the above is not an exaggeration. I love the show and I love the entire cast. My enjoyment in each of the characters is directly connected to my enjoyment of the season as a whole, which I say because I’m about to get pretty critical towards some of the characters’ choices and, to a lesser extent, the writing choices that surround those. Does this mean I secretly hate The Bad Batch? Quite the opposite. I’m invested, which is presumably just what Filoni wants. I’m just hoping that investment pays off. 

But enough of the disclaimers. Let’s start with the matter of the inhibitor chip. I’ve seen fans take some pretty hard stances on both sides: Crosshair is completely innocent because he’s definitely been under the chip’s control this whole time, no matter what he might say. Crosshair is completely guilty because he said the chip was removed a long time ago and he chose to do all this, no moral wiggle room allowed. However, the reality is that we don’t know enough to make a clear call either way. The audience, simply put, does not have all the necessary information. What we have instead is a couple of facts combined with claims that may or may not be reliable. Let’s lay them out:

Crosshair was definitely under the chip’s control at the start of the series.

He was able to resist it to a certain extent, resulting in a pressure to obey orders coupled with a primary loyalty to his squad. See: telling Hunter to follow the Empire’s commands—which includes killing kid Padawans—but not turning his team in as traitors when they did not. It’s an in-between space.

Crosshair’s chip was then amplified to an unknown extent. I’m never going to claim I’m a Star Wars aficionado—I’m a casual fan, friends. Please don’t yell at me over obscure lore lol—but within TBB’s canon, no one else is undergoing that experimentation. The effects of this are entirely unknown, which includes Crosshair’s free will, or lack thereof.

Crosshair then becomes a clear tool of the Empire, hunting down innocents, killing on a whim, the whole, evil shebang.

In “Reunion” he’s caught by the engine and suffers severe burns to his face. One leaves a scar that covers precisely the place where the chip would have been extracted.

Removing the chip leaves its own scar behind. If Crosshair’s was removed, we can’t see that scar due to the burn.

After these events Crosshair seems to mellow a bit. He does horrible things under the Empire’s orders—like shooting the senator—but is still loyal to his squad—killing his non-clone teammates to give TBB a chance, saving AZ and Omega, etc.

Crosshair claims that his chip has already been removed. However, Crosshair is arguably an unreliable source if he’s been lied to or if the chip is still there, encouraging him to manipulate the team.

Crosshair claims it was removed a long time ago, which is incredibly imprecise. As we can see from just some of the events listed above, precisely when the chip came out—if it came out—makes a huge difference.

Hunter realizes this and presses for clarification, but Crosshair dodges giving it. Again, a legitimate belief that it doesn’t matter, or evidence that he can’t say because something else is going on? We don’t know.

Hunter checks Crosshair’s head and finds the burn scar which proves… nothing. As stated above, they wouldn’t be able to see the surgery scar one way or another: its existence or its absence. It’s useless data, as Tech might say. I’ve seen a few fans claim that Hunter was also feeling for the chip with his enhanced senses, but 1. I didn’t catch any evidence of that in the scene and 2. Even if we assume Hunter did that anyway, the chips are notoriously hard to spot. Fives and AZ couldn’t find the chip at first when examining Tup. Ahsoka had to use the force to find it in Rex. TBB themselves couldn’t find it at first in Wrecker. If machinery consistently fails to find the chip on the first couple of tries—it’s meant to be a hidden implant, after all—why would we believe Hunter’s senses could pick it up instantly? Maybe he missed it, or maybe it wasn’t there at all. 

Crosshair appears to be struggling with a headache in the finale, just as he was at the beginning of the season and just like Wrecker was for the first half.

The point of listing all this out is to emphasize how ambiguous this whole situation is. I don’t want to use this post to argue one way or another about whether Crosshair’s chip is really out. I have my preferred theory (the chip’s still in, but only partially functional), but at the end of the day none of this is conclusive. The writing takes us in what I hope is deliberate circles. Crosshair says the chip is out? Crosshair is not a reliable source of information until we know if the chip is out. What other evidence is there that the chip is gone? A scar? We can’t see if there’s a scar. Hunter’s abilities? He only checked once for a canonically hard to find implant—if he actually checked at all. And why would the Empire want the chip out? Well, maybe it has to do with that push towards willing soldiers, but if that were the case, why leave Crosshair behind and have the “clones die together”? By that point he was one of the most willing, chip or not. Did they have to take it out because of the engine accident? Pure speculation. We just don’t know and THAT is the point I want to make.

Because it means the rest of the Bad Batch didn’t know either.

The core issue I have here is not whether the chip is in or out, or even how long it may have been in if it is out now. The issue is that TBB spent 99% of the first season believing that Crosshair was under the chip’s influence… and they didn’t try to do anything about that. They abandoned him. They left a man behind. Does this make them all horrible monsters? Of course not! This shit is complicated as hell, but I do think they made a very large mistake and that Crosshair has every right to be furious about it.

“But, Clyde, they couldn’t have gone back. It was too dangerous! Hunter had a duty to his whole team, not just Crosshair.” True enough and I’d buy this argument 100% if Hunter hadn’t spent the entire season throwing his team into dangerous, seemingly impossible situations to save other people. Crosshair became the exception, not a hard rule of something they had to avoid. They went back to Kamino for Omega, a kid they’d only had one lunch with, despite knowing how dangerous the Empire was. They went into the heart of an occupied planet to rescue not just a stranger, but one belonging to the Separatist government. They helped Sid when she asked and there was plenty of compassion for the criminal trying to take her place. Most significantly, there wasn’t the slightest hesitation to go rescue Hunter when he was under the Empire’s control, in precisely the same place. Every explanation I’ve seen fans come up with—Kamino is too fortified, they don’t know where Crosshair is, they can’t risk Omega being captured, etc.—also holds true for Hunter, yet there wasn’t a second of doubt about needing to at least try to help him. And his rescue was arguably far more dangerous given that TBB knew they were walking into a trap. Going after Crosshair would have at least had some element of surprise.

I think the problem with these justifications is most easily seen in “Rescue on Ryloth” and, later, “War-Mantle.” In the former, we do watch Hunter decide that going on a rescue mission is too much of a risk, only for Omega to talk him into considering it.

Hunter: “It’s a big galaxy. We can’t put ourselves on the line every time someone’s in trouble.”

Omega: “Why not? Isn’t that what soldiers do?”

Hunter: “It’s not worth the risk.”

Omega: “She’s trying to save her family, Hunter. I’d do the same for you.”

The arguments that sway him are ‘Soldiers should help people’ and ‘Soldiers should specifically help their family.’ So… what does that say about their feelings for Crosshair? They’re willing to put themselves on the line for the parents of a girl they met once at a drop site, but not their own brother? That’s the message the writing sends. “But, Clyde, the difference is that they had an advantage here. Hera’s knowledge of her home planet tipped the odds in their favor.” Yeah… and Crosshair is stationed on TBB’s home planet. Even more than them collectively having the same knowledge that Hera does, “Return to Kamino” reveals that Omega always had additional, insider knowledge of the base: she has access to a secret landing pad and the tunnels leading up into the city. That knowledge was given and used the second Hunter’s freedom was on the line, but it never once came up to use for Crosshair’s benefit. 

“War-Mantle’s” mission puts this problem in even sharper relief. Another claim I’ve seen a lot is that TBB only took risky rescue missions because they needed to be paid. The guys have got to eat after all. Yet Tech makes it clear that going after Gregor will lose them money. They’re meant to be on a mission for Sid and deviating for that won’t result in a payment. He explicitly says that if they decide to do this, they won’t eat. They do it anyway. No money, no intel, a huge risk “on a clone we don’t even know.” But that’s not what’s important, the show says. All that matters is that a brother is in trouble. This time it’s Echo pushing that message instead of Omega. When Hunter realizes that they’re about to try and infiltrate an entire facility and they don’t even know if this clone is still alive, Echo points out that they took that risk once before: for him. “If there’s a chance that trooper is being held against his will, we have to try and get him out.”

Yes! Exactly right! So why doesn’t that apply to Crosshair?

“Because he tried to kill them, Clyde!” No, that’s the easy, dismissive answer. A chipped Crosshair tried to kill them. AKA, a Crosshair entirely under the Empire’s control. The only difference between his enslavement and Gregor’s is that Gregor’s chains were physical while Crosshair’s were mental. And again, the point of everything at the start of this post is to show that no one knows when or even if that chip was removed. TBB definitely didn’t have any reason to suspect that Crosshair was working under his own power until Crosshair himself said as much. We might have been able to make that case at the start of the season, but “Battle Scars” removes any possible confusion. The entire team watched Rex reach for his blaster when he learned their chips were still in. The entire team watched Wrecker become a totally different person and attack them, just like Crosshair did. The entire team forgave him instantly and had their own chips removed. So why in the world didn’t anyone go, “Wow, Crosshair has a chip too. He was no more responsible for attacking us than Wrecker was. We need to try to get him out, no matter how hard that might be, just like we had to try for all these other people we’ve helped.”

But they didn’t. No one even considered rescuing Crosshair. They only went back for Hunter and, when they realized Crosshair was there too, they didn’t change their plans to try and rescue him as well. He’s treated as a particularly threatening inconvenience, not another team member in need of their help.

The problem I have with how this all went down is that the team treated Crosshair like an enemy despite all evidence to the contrary. Despite Omega outright saying that this isn’t his fault, it’s the chip, the group seems to decide that he’s gone crazy or something and that there’s nothing they can do. “It’s fine,” I thought. “They don’t really get what the chip is like yet. They don’t understand how thoroughly it controls someone.” But then “Battle Scars” arrives and Wrecker is treated with such compassion (which he deserves!) only for the group to continue acting like Crosshair is somehow different. It’s easy to say, “But Crosshair shot Wrecker” and ignore the easy pushback of, “and Wrecker nearly shot Omega.” Up until Crosshair’s own accusations and Omega’s ignored comments, TBB’s understanding of the chip’s influence and the lack of responsibility that accompanies mysteriously disappears when the show’s antagonist becomes the subject of conversation. This is seen most clearly in how Hunter tries to frame things during his talk with Crosshair:

“You tried to kill us. We didn’t have a choice.”

“Can’t you see that they’re using you? It’s that inhibitor chip in your head.”

“You really don’t get who we are, do you?”

Hunter mentions the chip, but he acts as if it’s Crosshair’s responsibility to overcome it: “Can’t you see…” Of course he can’t see, that’s the entire point of the chip, the thing he currently believes Crosshair still has stuck in his head. But Hunter and the others—with Omega as a wonderful exception—never seem to have accepted this like they did for Wrecker. When Crosshair “tried to kill us” it’s seen as a deliberate act that he chose, not something forced on him like with Wrecker. When Hunter talks about their ethics, he subconsciously separates the team from Crosshair: “You really don’t get who we are, do you?”, revealing a pretty ingrained divide between them. Even Wrecker gets in on the action, the one brother who truly understands how much the chip controls someone: “All that time, you didn’t even try to come back.” What part of he couldn’t try is not hitting home here? Again, for the purposes of this conversation it doesn’t matter whether Crosshair was chipped this whole time or not. The point is that TBB believed he was chipped… and yet still expected him to somehow, magically overcome that programming, writing him off when he failed to do that. He’s consistently held responsible for actions that they were told (and, through Wrecker, saw) were completely outside of his control. Even when we factor in his claim that the chip was removed, TBB has ignored all the evidence I listed at the start. No one, not even Omega, challenges this super vague and strange claim, or seeks out proof because they don’t want to believe that their brother could willingly do this. There’s just this... acceptance that of course Crosshair went bad. Why? Because he was an asshole sometimes? Taking it all as written, it doesn’t feel like the batch considered him a true part of the team. Certainly not like Wrecker or Hunter. As shown, the batch will go out of their way, risk anything, forgive anything, for them. They have a level of faith that was never shown to Crosshair. 

“Severe and unyielding,” Tech says and he’s absolutely right, but I’d seriously challenge this idea that any of the others would have automatically done better if the situations were reversed. It stood out to me that each batch member has a moment of doubt throughout the series, a brief glimpse into how they think the Empire isn’t that bad, at least when it comes to this particular thing. Basically, a moment that could lead to a very dangerous line of thinking without others to stomp it down. Wrecker announces that he’s happy working for whoever, provided they give him food and let him blow things up. Tech finds the chain codes to be an ingenious strategy and is clearly fascinated with their development. Hunter initially wants Omega to stay on Kamino, despite knowing that this Empire has already, systematically killed an entire group of people: the Jedi. Doesn’t matter. She’s still (supposedly) safer there than she would be running with the likes of them.

There’s absolutely no doubt that those three made the correct choice in defying the Empire, but I believe that their ability to make that choice is largely dependent on them having each other. They survive together, not apart, and it’s their unity that allows them to make the really hard calls, like setting out on their own and opposing such a formidable force. But if Tech’s chip had activated and he’d been left behind, would he have muscled through to escape somehow...or would he have gotten caught up in all the new technology the Empire offered him, succumbing to both his chip and the inevitability that if his squad no longer wanted him, why not stay? Would Wrecker have escaped, or been easily manipulated into a new life of exploding things? Would Hunter have been able to push through without his brothers, or would he have become devoted to a new team to lead? Obviously there’s no way to ever know, but it’s always easier to make the right decisions when you have support in doing so. Crosshair had no support. His team left him and yes, they had to in that specific moment, but the point is that they never came back. As far as we saw throughout the season, they never planned to come back. They all talk about loving the Crosshair who existed when life was easier, but they weren’t willing to fight for the Crosshair that most needed their help. When he says “You weren’t loyal to me,” he’s absolutely right. The same episode, “Return to Kamino,” gives Omega two powerful lines that the group rallies behind:

Omega: “[The danger] doesn’t matter. Saving Hunter is what matters.”

AZ: “You must leave.”

Omega: “Not without Hunter.”

The key word there is “Hunter.” Danger, stakes, risk, probability… none of that matters when Hunter needs help. Crosshair did not receive that same level of devotion.

Which creates a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. The group is upset that Crosshair isn’t rejoining them, but they fail to realize that he has no reason to trust them anymore. He’s not joining the Empire because he’s inherently evil and that’s that, end of discussion. He’s joining it because above all Crosshair wants a place to belong… and TBB has made it clear—unintentionally—that he does not belong with them. The horrible actions that Crosshair took under his own free will (theoretically) came after he realized that doing bad things while under the Empire’s control was, apparently, unforgivable. If it wasn’t, his team would have come back to rescue him. They could have at least tried. But they didn’t, so Crosshair is left with the conclusion that either what he did under the Empire’s control is something the group can’t forgive him for, or they can forgive that (like with Wrecker) and he’s the problem here. He’s the one not worth that effort.

“The Empire will be fazing out clones next,” Hunter says. To which Crosshair responds, “Not the ones that matter.”

He wants to matter to someone and events show he no longer matters to his brothers. So why not stay with the Empire? I mean, we as the audience ABSOLUTELY know why not. Self-doubt and feelings of isolation aren’t excuses for joining the Super Evil Organization. Crosshair, if he is under his own control, is still 100% in the wrong for supporting them, no matter his reasons. So it’s not an excuse, but rather an explanation of that very human, flawed, fallible thinking. He needs to be useful. He needs to be wanted. Crosshair is an absolute dick to the regs and I have no doubt that a lot of that stems from the harassment TBB has experienced from them (with a side of his inflated ego), but I’d bet it’s also due to Crosshair’s intense desire to be valuable to someone. He keeps pointing out the regs’ supposed deficiencies because it highlights his own usefulness. When Crosshair fails to find Hera, the Admiral says that soon he’ll get someone who can, looking straight at Howzer at the door. It makes Crosshair seethe because his entire identity is based on being useful, yet no one seems to need him anymore. TBB seems to no longer want him. The Empire no longer wants clones. Now even regs are considered a better option than him, the “superior” soldier. Everywhere Crosshair turns he’s getting the message that he’s not wanted, but he’ll keep fighting to at least be needed in some capacity, no matter how small. Even if that means overlooking all the horrors the Empire commits.

“All you’ll ever be to [the Empire] is a number,” Hunter says and he’s absolutely right. But to TBB recently, Crosshair hasn’t even been that. He’s been nothing. Nobody worth coming back for. To his mind, at least being a number is something.

I hope that all of this resolves itself into a conclusion that is kind to each side (preferably without a Vader-style death redemption), especially given the still ambiguous state of the chip, but from a writing standpoint I’m admittedly a bit wary. We’re obviously meant to believe that the batch all love each other, but as established throughout this entirely too long post, this season did a terrible job imo of proving that they love Crosshair. Or, at least, proving that they love him as much as the others. If this was really meant to be just a matter of miscommunication, with Crosshair making terrible life choices because he only thinks he was abandoned, then we as the audience would have seen the batch trying and failing to get him out. Or at least establishing a very good reason why they couldn’t take that risk, hopefully with entirely different side-missions so the audience isn’t constantly going, “So you can risk everything for Gregor... but not Crosshair?” I’m VERY glad that Crosshair was allowed to air his grievances to the extent he did, but the end result of that—Hunter continually denying this, Omega walking away from him in their rooms, neither Tech nor Wrecker actually sticking up for him and acknowledging the chip’s influence during at least some of all this—is making things feel rather one-sided. It’s like we’re meant to take Crosshair at his word and accept that he’s this garden-variety antagonist who joins the Empire because yay being on the winning side… despite all these complications that clearly have a huge impact on how we read the situation. It doesn’t help that the show has already embraced an inconsistent manner of portraying chipped-clones. We know every clone has one, we know only a couple clones are aware of the chip’s existence (and can thus try to get it out), we know they enter a “Good soldiers follow orders” mindlessness once activated… yet towards the end we see a lot of side character clones thinking for themselves. Howzer decides that he’s no longer loyal to the Empire, giving a speech where a couple other clones throw down their weapons too. Gregor was arrested because he likewise realized how wrong this all was. But how is that possible? Do the chips completely control the clones, or not? Are these clones somehow exceptions? Are the chips beginning to fail? All of that has a bearing on how we read Crosshair—what were his own decisions, how much he was capable of overcoming the chip, whether that changed at all during certain points—but right now that remains really unclear.

It’s details like that which make me wonder if all these other questions will be answered. Will the story resolve all those ambiguous moments surrounding the chip, or brush them off with the belief that we should have just taken Crosshair at his equally ambiguous word? Will the story acknowledge Crosshair’s points through someone other than Crosshair, allowing it to exist as a legitimate criticism, rather than the presumed excuses of an antagonist? I’m… not sure. On the whole I’m very happy with TBB’s writing—despite what all this might imply lol. Until my brain picks over the season and discovers something else, my only other gripe is not allowing Omega to form a solid bond with Tech and Echo, instead putting all the focus on big brother!Wrecker and dad!Hunter. I think it’s a solid show that does a lot right, but I’m worried that, unless there’s a brilliant answer to all these questions and an intent to unpack both sides of the Hunter vs. Crosshair debate with respect—not just falling back on, “Well, Crosshair is with the Empire so everything he says is automatically bad and wrong” take—we’ve just gotten the setup for a somewhat messy, ethical story. For anyone here who also reads my RWBY metas, I’m pretty sure you’re not at all surprised that I’m invested in going, “Hey, you had one of the heroes suddenly become/join a dictatorship and do a lot of horrific things, but within a pretty complicated context. Can we please work through that carefully and with an acknowledgement of the nuance here, rather than throwing the ‘evil’ character to the proverbial wolves?”  

God knows TBB is leagues ahead of RWBY, but I hope things continue on in not just a good direction, but one that tackles the aspects of this situation that many fans—and Crosshair—have already pointed out. As much as I adore the cast—and I really, really do—it was discomforting to watch a found family show where 4/5th of that family so completely wrote off one of the members and crucially have, at least so far, refused to acknowledge that. I want complicated, flawed characters, but that’s only compelling when the storytelling admits to and grapples with those flaws. We have quite firmly established Crosshair’s flaws in Season One. I hope Season Two delves into the rest of the team’s too.

Aaaand with that meta-dump out of my system, I’m off to write TBB fic. Thanks for reading! :D

[masterjedilenawrites]

What clone boys (+ the bad batch boys) looking for in their s/o? What is their ideal s/o?

Well, I kinda sorta went nuts with this question and got just a liiiitle carried away... oops...

Cody would be impressed by someone who could take charge of a messy situation or unruly group of people. He'd like someone who is independent and self-sufficient; he recognizes he may not always be there for them and wants to know they can take care of themselves. When he is around, he wants them to feel like a team, partners who are in sync, share the same goals, and make up for what the other lacks. He is attracted to good leadership skills, but turned off by cockiness.

Rex needs someone he can walk through life with side-by-side as equals, no exhausting power dynamics. He'd like someone who is dedicated to their beliefs and goals, but also someone who knows how to let loose and have a bit of (responsible) fun. He wants to know he can be himself around them, whether it's having an honest, soul-baring conversation or just acting really silly for no reason than because they can. He is attracted to good-humored attitudes, but turned off by shallow-ness. 

Wolffe would be into someone with style and sass, someone who isn't afraid to speak their mind or stand up for what's right. He'd like someone who is fearless and passionate, but also full of hope, who will meet his glass-half-empty attitude with unwavering and inspiring optimism. He may butt heads with his S/O from time to time, but they keep him honest and he does appreciate them for it, even if he looks unamused. He is attracted to wit, but turned off by self-centeredness.

Fox likes someone who is warm and friendly, someone who embodies the spirit of the word home. They would need to be dependable, loyal, and a real sweetheart. He is a true romantic at heart and would continue to "woo" his S/O even after they got together, so they would need to be appreciative of such gestures. After a tough day or mission, he'd rather go home to someone who can help him relax and maybe laugh a little. He is attracted to stability, but turned off by laziness.

Fives would fall for someone with a zest for life and a great sense of humor. They don't need to be chipper all the time; in fact, he appreciates someone who takes things seriously and who will fight for what is right, even when it's hard. But he also needs someone he can have fun with, who can find the joy in any situation, and maybe even get into a bit of innocent trouble from time to time. They would be his best friend. His other half. He is attracted to liveliness but turned off by ditziness. 

Jesse is drawn to the sweet, innocent types, someone who would get flustered by his flirting in the cutest of ways. He likes the feeling of being depended on and would take that duty very seriously. He's secretly a sensitive guy and would need someone he feels safe with, who would listen to his feelings without judgment and encourage him to be the best he can be. He really doesn't want to argue with his S/O. He is attracted to pretty smiles and turned off by stubbornness.

Kix admires someone who isn't afraid of honest, hard work, who will not hesitate to roll up their sleeves and do what is needed. But he'd also like someone with a flirty side, who could really surprise him and keep his days interesting. It's important to him that his S/O gets along with his brothers in the 501st, even allowing their free time to be spent with the battalion. He is a family-oriented guy and would need his partner to be, too. He is attracted to spontaneity, but turned off by recklessness.

Tup would like to be with someone who is more reserved, who can be a constant and steady presence in his life without being overwhelming or controlling. He is a bit withdrawn and struggles to feel understood sometimes, so he'd need someone who is patient with him, and comfortable with a less-intimate relationship. He'd be intrigued by someone creative or artistic, as well, and would be their biggest fan. He is attracted to gentleness and turned off by impulsiveness.

Hardcase would dig someone who can keep up with him, someone who is vibrant and always ready for an adventure. He wouldn't mind if they were chaotic or didn't have their life figured out; they could grow and learn together. When others try to hold him back, his S/O would encourage him to keep pushing; they'd be his cheerleader, and he'd be theirs. He finds it really sexy when someone puts themselves out there, both physically and emotionally. He is attracted to spunk and turned off by passiveness.

Dogma prefers someone who is rational and level-headed, maybe a little book-smart or nerdy. He wants to be able to have interesting and meaningful conversations with someone, about anything and everything. He likes someone who takes on quiet responsibilities, not needing to be seen in order to help. He also likes a level of tenderness; nothing too flirty or passionate, just simple and caring. He is attracted to humility and turned off by emotional reactions.

Echo has a soft spot for someone who is charismatic but compassionate, someone who uses their people-driven attitude to be hospitable and generous. He'd like to be with someone who's a little more outgoing than him, but not someone he'd have to keep up with. They would need to be polite and thoughtful, and always willing to communicate, even when it's awkward. He would want to share everything with them. He is attracted to candor but turned off by demanding attitudes.

Hunter wants someone who is easygoing and laid-back, who is uncomplicated and doesn't get caught up in drama or chaos. Someone who makes it clear what they think and what they want, rather than withdrawing or leaving him to make his own assumptions. They would be easy to be in a relationship with. But he does enjoy a good adventure, so it's important that they are active in that regard, too. He is attracted to wholesomeness and turned off by high-maintenance personalities.

Wrecker would be smitten with someone who meets his strength and brutality with softness and gentleness, who is a good balance for his rather intense way of living. They can't be timid in any way, though, because he'll challenge them to try new things. As long as they're a good sport, even if they're out of their element, he'll be very happy. They'd need to have a nice laugh, too, and he'd make it his personal mission every day to hear it. He is attracted to femininity and turned off by cowardliness.

Crosshair is interested in someone who lives their life honestly and sincerely, who is deeply kind but won't let themselves be walked over. Someone who accepts him for who he is but also challenges him when he's being too stubborn or unfair. They would be his rock in life, a person he will always seek out to have by his side. Their maturity puts him at ease and he never has to worry about them or doubt his worth in their eyes. He is attracted to confidence but turned off by popularity.

Tech would fancy someone who looks at the world with wide eyes, who asks questions and listens with their whole heart. They do not need to be super smart or an academic, but they do need to have curiosity and passion. He'd bond with someone over shared interests, but would be equally thrilled to learn something new from someone knowledgeable in other areas. Looks would hardly matter to him; it's their mind he'd fall in love with. He is attracted to talent and turned off by apathy.

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 10)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses.

Chapter Ten: The Echo

Greeting your companions the next morning was just as awkward as bidding them goodnight after the debacle last night. You’re stiff, bruised, and the dirtiest you’ve ever been in your whole life. Lightly retying the corset to support yourself, you collect Gonk from where she’s curled in the Hammock and brace yourself before heading out onto the deck of the ship. It’s already very bright out, and the crew is as rambunctious as ever. With the Captain throwing orders around here and there, Tech and Wrecker working the sails, and Crosshair shouting back down to Hunter. It’s marvellous how they work together when they're not disagreeing about something.

You feel Gonk leap off your shoulder with a curious noise before bounding away, her speckled wings bouncing behind her. She looks clumsy for a lizard, but then again, how many lizards did you know that have feathers?

“Good Morning!” Wrecker shouts to you when he notices your figure. You give him a smile and a small wave. Tech returns your smile and watches you as you glance around. Appreciating the sea and the vessel you’ve found yourself on.

The water of the Corillian run is a rich blue with just enough green to look magical. And the waves the churn underneath you look more powerful than any carriage or speeder you’ve seen before. Just as you’re wondering how deep it is, there's a commotion behind you. Hunter is glaring deadly at Gonk, who’s held by her neck feathers in front of his face. And from the way her wings are flapping and her front claws grab at him, it's no mystery where she was, or where she’s trying to go.

“I’m sorry!” You say, gathering your skirts and rushing over. The Captain glares at you as he shoves her into your arms, her grey feathers bunching up as he does so. His tunic is rolled up again, and in the morning light you can see the symbols on his forearm more clearly. Traitor.

When the wooden ruler collided with your desk you yelped in fear and surprise. Was it the first time this had happened? Absolutely not, and if these lessons continued this way, it certainly wouldn't be the last.

“Pay. Attention.” The Pantoran woman growled at you, she was very smart. You could just tell, and the fact she was instructed to dumb down your education infruiated the both of you. “As I was saying…” She eyed you - a dare to look out the window and start daydreaming again.

“Teach me about the war.” You blurted out the statue of the emperor they were erecting, catching your eye again.

“This is a language class.” She said with a sigh, before placing the ruler down. “I’m guessing you want to know about the Clones.”

“How did you kn-”

“It’s all anyone ever talks about.” She interrupted you, which was shocking in itself, but not unwelcome. Perching herself on the birch coloured desk, you found her staring out the window as well.“It’s well known that there was scarcely a better soldier than a Kaminoan Clone. And so when the war came to its end, and the Jedi went rouge, well they hardly stood a chance. Those who sided with them were caught and killed or branded traitors. Why they let any of them survive is beyond me, but those clones were so fiercely loyal. Some of them just couldn't shake that. No matter how hard the Kaminoans or the Emperor tried, there were millions of them, and some…” She paused for a moment, glancing back at the door as if someone was watching you through it.

“Well even if an inhibitor chip is 99.99% effective, out of one million, there will still be one hundred defects.”

You try to stop staring, you really do. But by then Hunter has caught your eye, and is glaring even harder than he was before. Cautiously you take a step back, finding yourself in the company of clones is one thing, those willing to defy Nython, another. But enemies of the Galactic Empire was a different kind of dangerous.

“Courtesy of your betrothed.” The Captain grits out, and whatever softness was there from the night before is gone. Scared, you clutch Gonk to your chest like a child would a blanket. “What did you do?” You ask, looking him up and down. Even with the scars on his knuckles of cuts and burns, He didn't look like the horror stories you’d been told as a kid, in fact, he didn't look dangerous at all. But the symbols were there, scared into his skin some time ago. Something flashes in his brown sugar eyes, like the ping of a blaster bounces off of his iries in the heat of battle. Like he relives combat right in front of you.

“What we did was rescue a prisoner of war.” He spits, walking towards you and backing you into the banister that overlooks the pain part of the deck. “That hammock you’re sleeping in belongs to someone.”

“I’m sorry.” You say trembling. Looking to the side to see Wrecker place a firm hand on his sergeant's shoulder and pull him firmly away from you.

“Echo’s was in the hands of the Techno Union for some time.” Wrecker explains defusing the situation. “He’s waiting for us on Alderaan, after some much needed rest.” Hunter, who’s now swatting Tech - and whatever device he’s trying to scan him with - away, seems to be ignoring you.

“I-I didn’- I didn’t mean…” You tell Wrecker shakily.

“I know, and it’s okay.” He says with a smile, but Hunter's words resonate with you. Haunting you of acts you have had nothing to do with.

In his cabin Hunter throws his hat as hard as he can against the wall. He hates you, he hates the Empire and most of all he hates Nython. And what’s even more infuriating is how innocent you are, how your morales are driving you away from your betrothed, and how you saved the shit disturbing reptile that seems to like himself and yourself too much. And no matter how much Hunter wants to despise the empire, if it’s still filled with people like you, it means there’s still something to fight for. But if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t know how much fight he's got left.

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠

“What did he mean, courtesy of my betrothed?” You have to walk quickly behind Crosshair in an effort to keep up, his long legs easily outpace you and even though you’re both still injured he moves quickly. You follow him into the storage area that you’re all too familiar with, nearly bumping into him when he stops to look for a specific crate.

“Why don’t you bother Tech with your questions?” Crosshair says pushing boxes around.

“Because you’ll tell me the truth, no sugar coating.” You tell him, nudging him aside with your boot as you lean over to grab what he couldn’t reach. Perhaps being smaller wasn’t a disadvantage after all. Proudly you hand him the strange looking fruit.

“I need the whole crate.” Crosshair tells you unimpressed, before giving you the singular Meiloorun fruit and leaning over the stack of crates again. “And to answer your question, he was talking about the scars on his hand.” You lean against the tower so you can try to read his face as he yanks the crate forward.

“The burns or the wounds?” You ask, mulling over the fruit in your hands.

“Same thing.” Crosshair explains. “From a mission on Kashyyyk, Nython had the whole forest alight, and Hunter got trapped behind a blast door.” He watches as you cover your mouth with one hand as you remember the boasts, the gloat, the pride Nython had when he recounted the battle.

“You should’ve seen it,” There’s awe in Crosshair's voice now. “The Regs wanted to label him MIA, but that's not Hunter, not the Sergeant of ‘Force 99. When the squad hoisted him into that medical bay, he was barely alive.”

“No wonder he hates me.” You breathe, looking at the clone in front of you who shrugs.

“Don’t take it personally, he hates mostly everyone. We all do, it’s…” Crosshair stops and composes himself, like being honest or genuine with you is a weakness. “Nython decimated everything in his path. There’s what? A handful of Wookies left, half of those are thanks to him and all he can think about is how many he didn’t save.” You gently place your fruit on the box Crosshair is standing before you with. “It’s all a bit narcissistic if you ask me.” You smile at Crosshairs sass.

“You’d know.” You counter, trying to ease the tension in the room. “Thank you, for being honest.” You tell him, catching a smirk as he starts up the stairs.

“It’s one of my many endearing qualities.” He says, before shouting to his brothers about something that you don't even bother trying to understand.

With a look back at the hiding spot that you had chosen when you boarded the ship, you start up the stars and get back into the daylight. The captain is still gone, but Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker are each peeling a Meilroon fruit. You smile at them, they look so picturesque right now. The sea in the background and the three of them scraping the tough skin off of the fruits with knives. You’re reminded of children's picture books of pirates mulling over gold.

“Hey! What’s so funny?” Wrecker calls when he sees your big smile. Walking over, You plant yourself on the floor leaning against the banister.

“I half expected you all to break out into a sea shanty.” You tease reaching up to pick up a fruit.

“Ha ha.” Crosshair said dryly, giving you the handle of the knife to take from him to peel your own fruit. “Try not to chuck it at Tech again will ya?” you nod and very carefully start running the blade along the fruit.

“So no sea shanties then?” You ask, popping a piece into your mouth.

“We don’t sing.” Tech states.

“Yeah we do!” Wrecker argues, jamming his knife into the lid of the crate, “we know that one from-”

“Ferrik if you start singing that again.” Crosshair grumbles.

“THERE ONCE WAS A SHIP THAT PUT TO SEA” You all cringe when Wrecker starts shouting rather than singing, both of his brothers shout back simultaneously for him to stop, while you giggle from your spot on the floor. You could almost get used to their company, that and the fresh salty sea air, you are already beginning to enjoy the life of sailing. On the second floor, emerging from the captain's quarters, Hunter generally steps. Even someone without enhanced senses would have heard Wreckers incessant shouting and he has every intent on giving the three of them a lecture when he hears something else entirely.

“There was once a soldier who carried a mighty sword, and he had saved the village, oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.” Your voice accompanies soft taps to the wooden boards to create some kind of beat. The sound stops as soon as it starts.

“Don’t stop on our account.” He hears Tech's voice, and a stealthy Hunter moves to try and get a better view, he wants to know what you’re up to, and if you’re still trying to manipulate his crew.

“I’ve been told I have an atrocious singing voice.”

“It’s better than Wreckers.” Both Crosshair and Tech comment simultaneously. And Hunter hears you let out a half laugh. Some kind of reserved dainty thing that has him rolling his eyes.

“There was once a sailor, he had travelled the globe, his love he was chasing. oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.” You continue tapping again, “And there will come a captain who’s heart is completely pure, he will find those who are lost, oh lei,...” He hears you stop. As something catches your attention. And Hunter takes the opportunity to make an appearance.

You hear the captain’s footsteps before you turn your gaze away from the birds flying alongside the ship. “Who let the Aaray get a’ hold of a knife again?” He says looking down at you, the fruit and the blade. Hesitantly, and with only half of the Meilroon fruit peeled you give the knife back to Crosshair the same way he had originally given it to you. Pointing the handle towards him whilst gently holding the blade.

“I wasn’t going to…” You start.

“Going to what? Try and kill one of my crew again?” Hunter raises an eyebrow as if he’s daring you to disagree. You take a deep breath in, and hoist yourself onto shaky feet. Wrecker gives you a hand when your legs shake still in pain. Letting out your breath you lock eyes with the captain.

“I understand your hatred for that man,” You begin softly.

“No.” He snaps, “you don’t” You plead with his unforgiving eyes, and the way his half tattooed face scrunches in annoyance.

“You can’t be reasoned with.” You say hopelessly, knowing that whatever you say, it won't be enough.

“I should not have to reason with the likes of you.” Hunter bites. And at this point even Wrecker has given up trying to reason with him. Behind you, Tech’s Holopad beeps.

“I am not my Fiance!” You exclaim. “And yet you attribute all of his crimes to me, even the crime of trying to rid myself of Ny-”

Before you can react, Hunter moves fast as lightning, a hand on your throat, his own vibroblade dangerously close to you, bending you against the banister that stops you falling into the abyss alone. The three others brace themselves and when they move to help you, stop at the growl of anger from their sergeant.

“You do not. Say that name. On. My. Ship.” He tells the trembling woman beneath him.

“What happened to you Sergeant?” You breathe out, searching for the man that his brothers seem to think he is. Everything they tell you about him, every ‘he’s not like this.’ All of his actions point to the fact that he is like this. Something changes in his face, like he remembers where and who he is. And like Hunter is on fire, he steps away from you. The second there's room, Wrecker forces you behind him protectively.

“Sarge.” Tech says, his voice echoing like blaster fire in the mountains. “I think you should come with me.”

Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses @loverofclones @beizm @gunsmoke-blu

@logina6 @wondergal2001 @lafy-taffy @lafy-taffy @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s

@starskenobiwan @lordellbell @kaetavlos @violetjedisylveon @​​vergol @Lackofhonor

[the-silentium]

Murphy day

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 3726 words

Warnings: Nothing really.

A/N: This is pure madness! @shadow-hyder this is your fault! Also, this will be a 3 part story so stay tuned for what'll happen next!

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

Right now, you didn’t know why you ever thought that getting out today was a bad idea. Sure, it was kinda against the rules and there was a long list of reasons as to why it was against the rules, but seeing the two armored clones dangling upside down meters above the ground, their limbs entangled in the thick lianas, their whines reaching your ears, you quickly forgot all the consequences that were waiting for you if you got caught. This was worth any forced work and fine thrown at you.

You stood there, a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from exploding into a fit of laughter, hidden on a large tree branch above the two soldiers. You listened to them insulting the foliage and thrashing around like it would change something. Clearly, they’ve never come to your planet before, or else they would know that the more they moved the lianas would squeeze them tighter into their grips. 

Despite your amusement at their expense, you kept an eye out for any predator lurking around. It would definitely darken your day if they were to be attacked. But then again, Murphy day spared no one. Your hand wrapped around your hunting knife, its carved wooden handle reassuring you that you weren’t defenseless and that luck was on your side. 

You ducked under an enormous leaf when you registered a movement in the corner of your eye, but not before making sure that it wasn’t a loth wolf or something more unfriendly. It definitely wasn’t a loth wolf, but you weren’t sure if they were friendly. One of the two new clones was way too big for your liking and the custom paint of his helmet didn’t put you in confidence, as opposed to the one with the glasses.

“Sorry for the wait Sarge!” A booming voice almost made you jump and lose your balance on the branch. “We got lost for a bit there!” 

“At least you made it. Now get us out of here. Being upside down is giving me a headache and I can't concentrate.” The trooper with the half black, half white helmet answered, wriggling around to try and see the newcomers. “Those things can’t be cut.” 

You smiled to yourself, the voice of your dad echoing in your mind. A sharp knife will not always help you. But a sharp mind will. And so, you chuckled silently to yourself, before sitting on the branch, your back to the trunk and head tilting to the side so you could keep sight on the bunch of soldiers. 

One of them walked forward while typing on something on his wrist rapidly, the bigger one following suit. 

“Tech, how do we get them down?” 

“Genlisea filiformis is a carnivorous plant-”

“A what?!” The second one that dropped the sniper rifle earlier yelled. You rolled your eyes at his panic. 

“A carnivorous plant, Crosshair. Now stop moving. The lianas will continue tightening every time you move.” His head moved slightly from side to side, seemingly reading. “Oh, this is interesting. They eat their prey by dissolving the flesh with an acid oozing from the lianas. Now, you guys should be okay with your composite armor. Don’t worry.” 

You snorted, a bit too loudly. Your hands flew to your mouth, whilst the rest of your body froze in fear that someone heard. Against all odds, you were still off the radar, your sound escaping them completely under Sarge's grunts of pain and the insults of the slim guy who you assumed was Crosshair. 

“All we have to do is to find the head of the plant. The weak point of the lianas is at the base of the head, where the lianas start.” 

As he finished his sentence, you pushed the leaf covering you aside so you could be at the front row of their realization. This was going to be gold.

“Hear that Sarge? We just need t-” His voice stopped as soon as he tried to take a step forward, his feet stuck under 15 cm of the stickiest artificial resin found on this planet. 

Just to make it better, his companion spotted the head of the plant and with all his determination behind his step, he tried to lift his foot, only to lose balance when it didn't move an inch and fell on his hands in the resin. 

That's when your laughter erupted, loud enough to cover the whines of the smallest soldier, bouncing between the trees and stopping each Bad Batcher's heart in surprise. Tears quickly gathered in your eyes, almost making you fall off your safe spot when you lifted your hand to wipe away the droplets. 

"You! Get down here!" Sarge barked, causing you to chuckle as your laughter died down. 

"Are your panties in a twist, Sarge? Did one of the lianas get in there?" You sassed, putting your knife back in the side pocket of your boot and carefully jumping down your branch to another one below. 

You made your way towards them, moving from tree to tree, avoiding any liana that was courageous enough to grow that far away from its roots and stopped just where the branches ended and the mess of lianas started. 

"Hey there!" You smirked, waving innocently at the upside down trooper two meters away from you. 

"Get us down." Growled Crosshair. 

"Oh sure. I love helping people who are as abrasive as sandpaper." You tilted your head to the side, putting on your best innocent expression. 

Once again, he trashed around, surely trying to get a hand free so he could grab… something? You were too far off his reach so he couldn't possibly want to grab you. Maybe a blaster? Unfortunately for him, you saw them fall on the ground earlier. 

"Listen. I-" His grunt of pain made you frown in concern. Your father always told you that you were way too empathetic for this big bad world. "We need help. Please." He sounded out of breath and it was more than you needed to get working. 

With a nod, you walked the length of your perch, jumped in another tree, climbed down to the jungle floor and avoided every puddle of resin the kids of the village had dropped around to prank passers by. 

"She's good." The booming voice surprised you again. 

"She's native and knows what she's doing." You said, putting on your gloves and reaching for your knife. "Ready?"

The two suspended clones grunted in approval. 

You made sure they wouldn't fall head first in the resin and with a few quick motions, you slashed the head off the rest of its body, sticky pale green juices oozed from the cuts and created a small film of smoke where it touched the blade. 

Two yelps reached your ears, but you couldn't care much, instead you jumped to the nearest patch of grass where you removed most of the acid from the smoking blade. 

"Are you alright?" At the question, you turned to assess if one of them broke their neck in the fall. For once, luck seemed to be on their side as they were both seating on their ass, helmets off massaging their heads where you were sure they could feel their heartbeat. 

"'m fine Tech." Sarge answered. He looked worse than his sniper friend, who glared at you when he felt your eyes on him. 

"You trapped us." He accused, getting on his feet to make his way towards you. 

 "What? No!" Jumping backward to avoid his hand, you tumbled to the ground but quickly rolled over to get back on your two feet. "Don't touch me!" You yelled, still avoiding his attempts at grabbing you. You didn't want to threaten him with a knife because you were sure to lose and he would touch you, but your mind did think about it. 

"Crosshair." Sarge barked, calling back his sandpaper soldier. 

If possible, the grey haired clone's glare intensified, burning a hole into your head, freezing you in place. Damn was he scary. You almost regretted cutting the lianas. 

"Won't hurt you." He muttered, still glaring. 

"Says you." You circled around him so you could go back to the rest of the clones, more importantly closer to Sarge who seemed more reasonable. You positionned yourself behind him, you know, just to be sure. 

"Can you get them out too?" Sarge asked you over his shoulder, giving you a perfect view of his tattoo. You were impressed. Never did you think that a facial tattoo could look so good on someone. Seemed like you were wrong. So so very wrong. 

You nodded. "On one condition." 

Frowning, he turned around to face you completely. 

"What?" 

I wanna touch your tattoo.

"No one touches me." His eyebrow shot up in an inquisitive manner and oh damn you wanted to touch the dark ink. 

"We won't hurt you." He reiterated Crosshair's words. You shook your head. 

"Not like that. I don't want your bad luck on me. Because clearly, you guys" You gestured around them with your both hands. "emanate bad luck." Your hands fall to your side. "The baddest bad luck I've seen in my life." 

"We don't have bad luck! We are lucky! We have a 100% success rate!" Bigger guy in the resin barked before laughing. 

"100% success rate eh? That's bad luck." You took a step back for your sake. Too much success always bite you in the arse one day. Looked like their elastic broke today. Lucky them. 

"You know that superstitions are not true, right? It's irrational." Smaller dude who removed his gloves to stand told you. Tech, if you heard right.

Wait. What? 

"Do you guys know what planet you're on?" You were baffled by the lack of knowledge they had on your planet. For sure, you would have thought that they would get as much information on a planet before getting there and running around? 

"Fors. A jungle planet of the Outer Rim. Rich in resources but not exploited because of the thick and dangerous flora." 

You nodded. "So you should know that here, what you all call superstitions are the real deal, right?" Your eyes found Sarge's brown one and you sigh at the lack of recognition. "Ok. If I were you, I'd get away from Fors real' quickly. You're all wearing black which represents death and your perfect success rate very probably attracted the curse of evil eye on y'all. Plus, we are today." 

You walked to a nearby tree, crouched to search the ground around its roots for a particular cavity. 

"What's wrong with today?" Sarge finally got on his feet, fetching his fallen blaster in a bush. 

"Today's Murphy day. The 13th day of the month. Usually there's a good balance between luck and bad luck. But today, it's only bad luck. Laws forbid anyone on the planet to get out of their home for the whole day to prevent accidents and other stuff." 

After your third tree, you found the hole you were looking for. Without a thought, you stuck your hand in the hole, searching around for the container the kids always leave near the traps. 

"So you're breaking the law." Crosshair pointed out, to your exasperation. 

"Exactly. But I don't intend to get caught so I should be fine." You huffed. "Thank you."

"You don't seem affected by bad luck." Tech quirked. 

"Knock on wood!" You said while knocking the trunk of the tree you were searching. 

Your hand found the bottle and pulled it out with a victory cry, the dark blue liquid shining in the sun like the night sky illuminated by its stars. You grinned, shaking the bottle. 

"Now, do we have a deal? Keep your hands to yourselves and I free the two remaining dudes from the kids' trap." 

With his hands slightly in the hair, Sarge nodded. "We won't touch you. Go ahead."

"Okay! Let's do this." Taking a deep breath, you opened the lid and dropped half the bottle at the big one's feet, the other half on Tech’s. 

The resin started dissolving on itself at the liquid's contact, freeing the troopers in under a minute. You backed off so they had room to join the rest of their squad. At a good distance, you allowed yourself to breathe again. 

"Thanks miss! I'm Wrecker." The biggest guy lifted his helmet a bit so he could wear it as a hat, a smile almost splitting his face in half. You immediately noted the scar on the side of his face as well as the cybernetic eye, but something inside your mind told you he wasn't as bad as you initially thought. He seemed too childish to be bad. 

"Nice to meet you Wrecker. The name's Y/N." You waved with a smile of your own. 

"I'm Tech." He removed his helmet, a smile of his own curving his lips. The name definitely suited him to a T. You waved back.

 "Sarge and Crosshair, right?" You asked, pointing to the remaining ones. 

"Sergent Hunter." He corrected as the other merely grunted in response. "Thank you for helping us." It wasn't a complete smile, but the corners of his lips perked up so you'll take it. 

"You're all very much welcome. I hope you all get back safely to your ship!" You put back your knife in its pocket and turned around to climb back into the tree next to you. You jumped to the closest thick branch, used your strong arms to pull you up on it and stand without much of a problem. You climbed a bit more until you found a branch big enough to walk its length. 

"Have a nice Murphy day and good lu-" The words died in your throat, instead morphing into a surprised yelp when your foot didn’t quite go where you wanted it to and caught in a tiny branch that totally refused to break, interfering with your balance. Your hands flew to your face to protect yourself from the smaller branches and leaves scratching at your skin, a quick peek informed you that the ground was coming way too quickly for your liking, your eyes closed in anticipation of the inevitable face plant impact. 

The pain wasn’t quite as you imagined, instead of hurting your front, hands, face and very possibly your spine, strong arms caught you in the air, the abrupt stop causing you to hit your chin onto a hard piece of armor, clattering your teeth together in the process. Thank the Maker, you didn’t bite your tongue off.

Confused, hurt and out of breath, you tried to comprehend what happened by looking around at the best of your capacity, being trapped between two arms as large as trunks. Concerned mismatched eyes met yours, seconds before the ground finally touched your feet delicately. Your eyes went wide as soon as your brain finally registered what happened and who cushioned your fall, panic making you push the large chest away from you so suddenly that you fell on your behind in a patch of tall grass. Wrecker tried to catch you in your fall again, missing your arm from an inch. 

“You okay?” He retracted his arms and stood tall again, Tech and Hunter approaching behind him, concern written all over their faces. 

“Yeah”. You sighed, letting your head roll backwards. Shooking your head, you watched the treetops, all the leaves and mazes of branches, the rare brave birds still watching you from above. Maybe they had the answer as to how you could survive this day. “Thanks for catching me Wrecker.” One of your hands massaged your aching chin.

“No problem Y/N!” His smile came back as soon as he was certain that you were fine, although it was short lived because you soon let yourself fall onto your back in defeat.

“This day starts so badly.” You muttered. You remember leaving your home at 6, early enough that a very few people were awake, but late enough so you could use the first rays of the sun to guide yourself. “I should’ve stayed home.” You snorted. “I’ll probably die from something very stupid.” 

“Well, if you hadn’t come out today, we would still be trapped, so the least we could do is help you  survive the day. How does that sound?” Hunter’s gravelly voice almost made you shiver. 

You shot back up, immediately extending a hand toward the Sergeant from your seated position. “Very fair. Deal.” 

With a nod, he grabbed your hand and pulled you up to your feet. Maybe he was used to pulling up his brothers or he simply miscalculated, but the amount of force behind his pull was unnecessary, propelling you right into his armored chest where you hit your face. 

You yelped in pain, hands reaching for your nose in a hurry. No blood. No broken bone. You sighed in relief.

“Sorry for that.” He seemed so confused it was almost hilarious. You definitely would have laughed if only your nose wasn’t ready to explode.

“It’s fine. ‘s not your fault. It’s today! You lose control of yourself a little and end up creating accidents all around you.” With a last check up that your nose wasn’t bleeding, you took a step aside to create a bit of space between you and the rest of them. “So, where’s your ship?” 

“Latitude 45.400972. Longitude -75.79851.” Tech answered while typing on the screen on his wrist. 

You were deeply confused despite having completed all mandatory classes in your village school. He was speaking a whole different language, you were sure of it. Did clones have a language? They were the first ones you ever encountered, not a lot of people liked to venture out into the Outer Rim where the planets weren’t very significant to anyone. Now that you thought about it, you’d love to see a battle on Murphy day. You were sure it would be catastrophingly funny to watch. Minus the fact that people would really die. Okay. Not so fun after all. 

“About an hour of walk this way.” Tech clarified, his eyes scanning your too deeply thinking face. 

“Okay!” You turned in the direction he pointed and started walking, jumping over the resin puddles. "You made it this far, I'm sure we can all make it back there without dying on the way!" You said, crossing your fingers. 

"Stop talking." Crosshair growled beneath his helmet. 

Duly noted. At the rhythm the day was going, you knew he'd regret his comment at some point. All you had to do was wait. So with the fakest smile you've ever had to use on your face, you turned around quickly and mimed to zip your lips before turning back around to watch your steps. 

Maybe it was a bad idea to follow them. You didn't know them until 10 minutes ago, they were four trained soldiers with blasters and military training, three seemed friendly enough and the last one was as cuddly as a porcupine. On your end, all you had to rely on was your excellent knowledge of the environment, your hunting knife and your precious tap. 

You tapped your pants pocket to ensure that it was still in your possession when quick steps alerted you of a clone keeping you company. 

"Don't listen to him. I'd love to know why luck has that much importance on this planet." Tech joined you at the front, helmet back on his head. "If you don't mind." He added when he met your questioning gaze. 

"People really don't know much about us, do they?"

You didn't blame them though. Who would want to venture on a planet where you didn't have the power over yourself, but something as volatile as luck did? 

"I'm afraid there aren't much more information on Fors other than datas about the minerals that can be found in underground caves."

"I'm not surprised." You scoffed. Your planet was extremely rich in precious minerals that the republic and the separatists would love to have to help found their war expenses, if it wasn't of the dangers passing as defenceless flora, adorable killing creatures and bewitching deadly smells. 

"Okay. Where to start…" You taped your chin, disentangling the different events and remembering your history classes. "You see, Fors is alive, like any other planet, but the difference is that it feeds on beliefs. It eh… apparently it's a field cast a very long time ago that enveloppe the planet and would cause all the luck, bad luck stuff."

Your hand shot up to push back against Tech's chest just as he was about to step in a prank trap,  falling in with him anyway when he tripped on his own feet. With a yelp, your other hand flew out, wrapping tightly around the first thing available, meaning nothing. 

Fortunately for you, Tech fell first into the phosphorescent mixture, saving your front from a disastrous quantity of disgusting liquids to come in contact with your body. You got away with only your pants in the mixture, so all in all, this was a good outcome. Although, with a silent gag, you hurriedly pushed yourself off the completely covered clone, away from the nasty smell and the oily prank. 

"What is in that? And why is there so many traps here!?" Tech yelped indignantly once he was on his feet, removing the most of the pale yellow thing out of his glasses. 

"Believe me, you really don't want to know what's in there. And for your second question, the kids love to trap strangers!" You pulled on a big leaf behind Hunter who dodged out of your way so you could remove a layer of the substance from your pants. 

"What's in that?" Whispered Hunter once he moved to your side, slightly bending to be closer to your ear. Wrecker's roaring laugh drowning his smaller brother's curses. 

"Phosphorescent bird poo mixed with loth wolf puke." You snickered. Poor Tech. It would have been much more hilarious would it have been the glaring tooth prick who fell in the trap. On the bright side, predators should stay away from your little group now. 

"R.I.P." You finally exploded in laughter. 

This was going to be the best yet the worst day of your life!

[thicctails]

Summer Of Whump Day 18 [Collapse/Beaten]

This one is such a mix of fluff and whump, I love it!

Ω

 “She’s so pretty! Do you think she’ll let me do her hair?”

 “He’s so pale… is that normal for humans?”

 “For some of us, yes.”

 “I think they’re waking up…”

 “Oh, Tiger’s right! Step back, little ones.”

 Omega groaned softly, blinking blearily. The Force nudged her, urging her to open her eyes. She obliged, opening her eyes and allowing her vision to come into focus. Her breath caught in her throat when she spotted a scaly, toothy muzzle right in front of her face. She yelped and scrambled back, tripping over something. She heard a grunt from beneath her, and a quick glance down revealed that it was Cal that she had tripped over. The duo quickly moved into a defensive position, her back against his as they called out to the Force.

 A group of people had surrounded them, all from varying species. They were all different ages as well, ranging from a mature adult to a young toddler. They didn’t look aggressive, but they hadn’t ended up here on accident, so Omega remained on guard. She’d learned to not trust strangers at this point, no matter how friendly they seemed. The eldest member of the group, a Togruta, if her memory served her correctly, raised her hands.

 “Easy, young ones. We’re not going to hurt you.” She said.

 Omega reeled back at first, remembering hearing that same voice when she had been grabbed, but found herself unwilling to stay angry when she felt a wave of calm being sent to her through the Force. She felt Cal relax, and decided that she would put her trust in his comfort.

 “C-crèshe Master Mirthver?” Cal’s voice held a trembling note of blinding hope. The Togruta nodded.

 “It is wonderful  to see you alive and well, young Ketsis.” She smiled, opening her arms. The padawan launched himself at her, sinking into the hug like his life depended on it.

 Omega had no idea what a Crèshe Master was, but she’d gathered enough information to figure out that the woman was definitely a Jedi. Around her, she heard the Force hiss irritably, and it urged her to get up and get away from the Togruta. But one look at Cal’s relieved expression made her decision for her. If staying with this Jedi and her little group for a bit meant that her friend got to be happy, then the Force would simply have to suck it up.

 “I can’t believe it! I- I thought for sure that you were dead!” He cried, burring himself on her robes.

 “I am very much alive, as are some of those under my care.” Mirthver’s voice turned sad. “But not as many as there should be. I was not able to save them all.”

 “You did the best you could. I know you did.” Cal whispered.

 The Togruta smiled softly, and Omega could feel her Force signature thrum with comfort. She looked towards Omega, her smile still on her face even as a tinge of confusion.

 “Who are you, little one? I don’t remember ever seeing you at the temple.” She said, looking Omega over.

 “That’s because she never was. Omega is a clone.” Cal explained, pulling back from the hug.

 “What?!” A voice snapped.

 The Force buzzed with danger as Omega heard something flare to life behind her. She leapt back, falling off of the bed she had been sitting on. Just in time too, as a bright yellow lightsaber swung down on the place where she had just been.

 “Chex!” Master Mirthver yelled, pulling Omega into her arms.

 Cal’s eyes flashed dangerously and he growled. The Force buzzed with anger, and suddenly there was a crash and a grunt. Omega looked over her shoulder to see a human boy holding his head, a discarded lightsaber clattering to the ground. Cal pulled Omega into a protective hug, and she could feel that he was shaking. Actually, they both were.

 Someone rushed over to where Chex lay, her muzzle pulled back into a concerned frown. She grabbed the lightsaber and tucked it away in a pocket before checking up on the boy. Chex groaned and rubbed his head, glaring at Cal and Omega.

 “What the hell?! Why are you defending a karking clone?!” He hissed.

“Chex Varren!” The Togruta’s voice boomed as she stood. Cal and Omega shuffled to the side, and Cal cringed in shame at the tone of her voice, even if her ire was not directed at him. “We do not attack innocents! And watch your language, there are younglings here!”

 “Innocents?!” He balked. “She’s. A. Clone! You know, the people who betrayed us and murdered our entire Order?!”

 “Does she look like a murderer to you?” The woman gestured to Omega, who shrunk back under Chex’s gaze.

 “It doesn’t matter what she looks like.” He spat venomously, getting to his feet. “A clone’s a clone, and clones are monsters.”

 “No we’re not!” Omega defended, her chest puffing up in defensive rage. “It’s the inhibitor chips! They’re what made everyone go bad! They didn’t want to betray you!”

 “Lies! You’re lying!” Chex snarled. “I’m not going to let you trick me, and I’m not going to let you hurt my family!”

 “I don’t want to hurt your family!” Omega exploded, the Force crackling around her. It wanted her out, wanted her away from the danger.

 “ENOUGH!”

 Master Mirthver stepped in between the two bristling children. She pointed a finger towards a tunnel entrance, and Omega realized that she wasn’t sitting in a room, but a well lit cave.

 “Go scout the perimeter. We need to make sure the actual threat hasn’t managed to find us.” She commanded.

 The padawan slunk away, scowling as he went. His hand raised, and his lightsaber snapped into his grasp. The furry person that had been checking him over stepped aside, scowling at him.

 “Dick.” She muttered, and Omega blinked at the insult.

 The scowling teen turned to Omega, and her face became infinitely softer.

 “Sorry about him, he’s a jerk even on the best of days.” She said, kneeling down to that she was eye level with Omega. Cal released her from his protective hold, the Force settling as the tension in the air dissipated. She had brilliant white fur and piercing blue eyes, a headpiece adorned with crystals looped around her pointed ears. “I’m Ebba Freclo, but everyone calls me Ebby.”

 “I’m… Omega.” Omega said, reaching out a hand, as she knew that was what was considered to be polite. Ebby smiled and extended her own paw, shaking Omega’s hand.

 “It’s a pleasure to meet you. The Light shines so brightly in you.” Ebby complimented.

 “Thanks?” Omega glanced at Cal, wondering if that was the right response. He nodded.

 “It’s a good thing. The Light guides us down the right path.”

 Omega nods, before looking at Master Mirthver. “Um, why are we here? I mean, you could have just came and said hello.”

 “Ah, yes, I apologize for our… less than favourable methods of getting you here.” She said, sounding a bit sheepish, “But we had to be sure that strange looking clone couldn’t sneak up on us.”

 “Crosshair? But he-” She cut herself off, taking a moment to imagine what Crosshair might do if he came back to find them talking to a bunch of lightsaber-wielding strangers. “Okay, fair enough. But we need to go back. He’s gonna be worried about us!”

 “Wait, you were with him willingly?” Ebby questioned. Cal nodded.

 “He saved our lives. We got captured by the Empire, and he got us out. His chip is malfunctioning for some reason.” He explained.

 “And now we’re trying to contact his brothers so that they can come get us.” Omega added.

 “You’re not staying?” A tiny voice piped up.

 Omega looked down and saw a Nautolan girl looking up at her with wide, sad eyes. She was a rich purple with pale cream markings, dressed in a soft green tunic and brown pants. A bracelet was fastened around her wrist, a chunk of the same crystal as the teen had attached to the simple brown accessory.

 “Well…” Omega glanced at Cal, who was giving the youngling with the scaly muzzle a hug. He mouthed “just a bit longer”, and Omega sighed.

 “Crosshair’s gonna have our heads for this- okay, we’ll stay for a little bit longer.” She conceded.

 Cheers erupted from the gathered younglings. The Nautolan girl and a young Wookie grabbed Omega’s hands and pulled her away.

 “Come on! Let’s make flower crowns!” The girl squeaked happily.

 Omega laughed and let herself be pulled away.

 “Will you train with us? Me and Tiger are gonna practise tree hopping.” The scaly girl asked Cal.

 “I guess I could. Don’t expect me to be very good though.” Cal smiled, letting himself be pulled along.

   Omega quickly picked up the skill of flower crown making, her hands easily threading the stems. The two younglings chatted on either side of her, although she needed translations for what the Wookie was saying. They told her about everyone who lived in their little hidden crèshe. There was Crèshe Master Azeu Mirthver, Ebba the Bothan, Tiger the Dathomirian, Javeri the Wookie, Xanbi the Nautolan, Chex the Human, Beska the Barabel, and Chi the Togorian. Tiger, Ebby, and Chex were padawans, with Ebby almost ready to become a Jedi Knight. Javerie, Xanbi, Beska, and Chi were still younglings, Beska being the oldest at 10, and Chi being the youngest, only a few months old.

 “What’s it like living with a baby?” Omega asked.

 “It’s hard. He’s always putting out his emotions, which means you’re either feeling really happy, really tired, or really upset. Me an’ Javeri can’t watch him for too long because we can’t put shields up yet.” Xanbi sighed.

 “And he cries when he’s upset! He’s really loud!” Javeri rumbled, Xanbi translating.

 “Sounds awful.” Omega frowned.

 “It’s not all bad.” Xanbi said, examining her flower crown. “He’s really cute, and he’s fun to play with when he’s happy.”

 “Why isn’t he out here with us?” Omega asked.

 “Chi’s too little to make flower crowns!” Xanbi and Javeri giggled.

 “Oh.” Omega said simply. “I didn’t know. I’ve never actually seen a baby before.”

 “What?” Javeri questioned. “Didn’t you see baby clones?”

 “No, clones aren’t sent out until they’re physically around your age.” Omega explained. “The Kaminoans do something to make them grow up twice as fast.”

 “How old are you?” Xanbi looked up at Omega.

 “5 and a half years old.” She replied.

 “WHAT!” Both younglings yelped.

 “You’re younger than me!” Javeri warbled.

 “You’re, like, a little kid!” Xanbi said, dumbfounded.

 “Remember, I age twice as fast as you do.” Omega reminded them.

 “Why?” Xanbi asked.

 Xanbi’s question made Omega’s face turn sad.

 “Because clones were made for war. They wanted us to grow up fast so that we could go and fight. If I was a regular clone, I’d be sent off to fight in a few years.” She said softly.

 “That’s horrible!” Javeri said. “You can’t make little kids fight! That’s a grown-up thing!”

 “It should be.” Omega agreed. “But to the Republic and the Kaminoans, the clones were grown ups.”

 The two younglings looked at each other in utter disbelief.

 “We’ll change it!” Javeri stated in a serious voice, or at least as serious as a 6 year old could be. “One day, we’ll be big! And we’ll make sure no kids ever have to fight, clones or not!”

 Omega gave them hopeful smiles. These kids were the future of the Jedi, and if they could learn from past mistakes, Omega thought that future would be pretty bright.

   Cal panted as he leaned against the tree for support. Beside him, Tiger crouched on the branch, the tree limb still shaking from when he had landed. The peach-coloured Dathomirian smiled at him, his milky white eyes shining in the mid-day sun. How a blind boy could jump and land so gracefully, Cal would never know.

 “How,” He sucked in a deep breath, “how do you do this so easily?”

 “I rely on the Force.” Tiger said with his feather-soft voice. “It guides me. I can feel it constantly.”

 “Yeah?” Cal huffed, sweat dripping down his neck. “You and Omega would get along great.”

 “The Force loves her. It sings with joy when she’s happy and thunders with anger when she’s not. I could feel its anger when Chex tried to attack her.” Tiger mused. “It won’t let you two stay, you know.”

 “What?” Confusion rippled through Cal. What did that mean?

 “It wants her to leave, to get away from us. I don’t know why, but her place isn’t here. But she won’t leave without you, and it doesn’t want her to be alone.” He explained.

 “How do you know this?” Cal asked.

 “I told you, I’m always feeling the Force. She has bonded to you, which is unheard of. Padawans don’t even form bonds like that with other padawans, let alone random Force-sensitives.” Tiger gave him a knowing look. “But you don’t seem to be to keen on the idea of severing the bond while you still can.”

 It was true, he didn’t want to loose his connection to Omega. She was a source of comfort in a sea of turmoil, a guiding star to keep him on the Light’s path. He wanted to be the same for her as well, someone that she could go to when she was at her lowest. So what if this wasn’t the Jedi way? The Order was gone, its members left scattered to the wind. The Code, he figured, could be broken a bit if it meant that himself and others might make it to adulthood, to be able to grow up and become the next generation of Jedi.

 “Cal!”

 He looks down, and there she is, holding a ring of golden and orange flowers, a crown of her own adorning her head, petals of blue and purple hues creating a halo of colour.

 “I made you a flower crown! Come down here so that I can put it on you!” She chirped.

 A warmth blooms in his chest, and he wonders how the idea of him leaving her can even exist in someone’s mind. Tiger laughs beside him.

“You’re so open around her. Perhaps Master Mirthver can teach you both to reign in your emotions.” He suggests as Cal begins to climb down. “You two are like beacons in the Force when you’re together, it’s how we found you today. If we could track you using your Force signature, so could someone less friendly.”

 Cal paused at that. Tiger had a point. If the Jedi had been able to find them, then a Sith definitely could. His stomach roiled in fear at that thought, and he accidentally sent his emotions through his and Omega’s bond.

 “Cal?” Omega called, worry in her voice. “You alright?”

 “I’m fine!” He called back, shoving his fears into a small place deep down in his chest. Hopefully, she’d think that his emotions had come from him being up so high.

 “Do you need help?”

 “No, no I got it!”

 He shimmied his way down, jumping off once he was low enough. He gave her a reassuring grin, and she returned it with a smile of her own.

 “Here!” She chirped, placing the flower crown on his head. “I made this for you!”

 He let her put the flowers on his head, bowing his head a bit so she could position it easier. The ring of bright gold and orange sat lightly on his hair, just snug enough to not slide off when he moved.

 “It’s beautiful, thank you.” He said sincerely, reaching up to feel the soft petals.

 “You look so pretty.” Omega gushed.

 Cal sputters at that, his cheeks flushing red. “Y-you don’t call boys p-pretty, Omega!”

 She quirked an eyebrow at him. “What? Says who?”

 Cal rubbed the back of his neck. “You know… people.”

 Omega snorted. “I don’t care what “people” think, Cal. I think that you’re pretty, and that’s that.” She said, booping his nose.

 He blinked, going cross-eyed as he tried to look at where she’d tapped him. Her boldness was stunning, and he found himself feeling a bit more okay about being called pretty.

 “You’re pretty too, ‘mega.” He murmured, and he felt his breath stutter at the electric burst of fondness that exploded across their bond.

 “You think so?” She asked shyly, although it seemed like she didn’t know why she suddenly felt shy.

 “Yeah. Prettiest girl I know.” He said, confident in his answer. If he could make her feel that happy just by giving her a compliment, than he would do it far more often.

 Omega beamed at him, her honey-brown eyes positively sparkling.

 “If you two start making out, I’m actually going to be sick.”

 Chex’s voice shattered their shared serenity. Cal whipped around, missing how Omega’s face wrinkled in confusion. He glared at the older boy, his green eyes turning sharp.

 “If you say something like that again, I’m actually going to punch your teeth in.” Cal mimicked Chex’s tone of voice as he made his irritation clear.

 “Oooh, I’m so scared.” Chex put his hands up in mock surrender. “Like you could even reach my teeth. You’re such a runt, you’d have to jump.”

 “That’s not very Jedi-like of you, Chex.” Cal hissed.

 “Yeah well, neither is your attachment.” The older padawan draws out the last word teasingly.

 Cal opens his mouth to retort, but suddenly he feels a sharp pang of panic ring out from Omega. Chex turned his head, raising an eyebrow in mildly disinterested confusion as he looked at her.

 “What’s wrong with yo-”

 “GET DOWN!”

 Omega launched forward, tackling Chex to the ground. A screech pierced Cal’s ears, and he stumbled back as a creature burst through the canopy, smashing into the ground where Chex had been seconds ago. Its tail whipped him, sending Cal to the ground. He grunted in pain, curling up into a defensive ball. Clutching his stomach, he could only watch as the beast reared up, snarling.

 It was a winged equine, skinny and malnourished with shining blue fur. Dark purple spots that reminded Cal of eyes dotted the animal’s body. It had three talon-like toes, and its wickedly sharp claws dug into the dry earth. A set of powerful feathered wings beat wildly, their teal and pink feathers gusting up dust. Rectangular pupils honed in on Omega and Chex, the black blocks standing out admits the creature’s yellow and orange eyes.

 The creature lunged for Omega, dragging her up by her foot and tossing her to the ground. Omega screamed, and Cal could feel his own back explode with pain as she hit the dirt. Fear drove him to try and get up, but he found himself unable to. A warm wetness was beginning to form under his hands, and he instinctively applied pressure. Helpless, he watched horrified as the winged animal kicked at her, it’s sharp hooves slicing through her shirt and leaving bloody marks behind.

 “Nrgh! Get away from her!” He shouted, trying to draw the animals attention off of her.

 The equine payed him no mind, grabbing at Omega again. It’s wicked fangs closed around her leg, and he felt himself pale when he saw rivets of blood dribble down the beast’s thick neck. Omega was howling in pain at this point, and the sound broke his heart and made him feel like the lowest scum for not being able to help her.

 “HEY FEATHER-FACE!”

 The animal jerked it’s head to the right. A dusty, angry Chex. His yellow lightsaber crackled fiercely, the glow reflecting off of a stream of blood that dripped down his face from a gash on the side of his head.

 “Eat lightsaber!” He yelled, swinging his weapon at the feathered equine. He managed to hit a wingtip, and the creature shrieked, dropping Omega. She hit the ground with a thud, and he saw her eyes go wide as the air rushed out of her lungs.

 The aggravated animal snapped and snarled at the teen, the two circling each other. Chex darted forward, slicing into the creature’s flank. It roared and whipped its head around, grabbing Chex’s arm and tossing the teen away. Suddenly, Tiger leapt out of the tree above the animal with a yell, landing on it’s back and grabbing its ears. The equine bucked and brayed, trying to throw Tiger off of its back. Tiger moved to grab his lightsaber, but the animal took advantage of his distraction and swung its tail around and struck Tiger in the head. The Dathomirian yelped in pain and fell, gasping in pain when a hoof struck him in the chest.

 The animal was heaving at this point, foamy saliva coating its jaws. It staggered in pain, its injured wing twitching as it made an odd wheezing sound. It lowered its head, growling at the ground as it continued to sway and twitch. Omega let out a high pitched whine, and the animal’s attention snapped towards her. It bellowed and reared up, its hooves poised to come down directly on her chest. Cal closed his eyes and jerked his head away, unwilling to watch his only friend in the whole galaxy die right in front of him.

 Bam!

 The beast fell silent, then Cal heard a loud thud as it hit the ground. His eyes flew open, his vision now filled with bright blue fur. The animal wasn’t breathing. As quickly as he possibly could, he lifted himself up as much as possible. His ears were full of the sound of his own heart pounding, but he was vaguely aware of the sounds of the other Padawans making noises of pain and calling out for Master Mirthver. His head tilted upwards, and he nearly sobbed in relief when he saw an armored figure crouched on a high up branch.

 Crosshair’s presence brought a sense of much needed safety, especially as fatigue grabbed Cal in its iron-clad grip. His head his the dirt again, darkness starting to seep into his vision. As the world faded away, he saw Crosshair rush towards them, unable to decide which child he should attend to first. He must have seemed more injured, because he was soon scooped up into a secure hold and brought closer to Omega. He blinked as Crosshair began speaking in Mando’a, his words too fast and Cal’s hearing too muted to be understood. His head lolled to the side, his cheek resting on Crosshair’s scuffed armor. Omega stared back at him, her eyes full of pain. She was panting shallowly, tears dripping down her face. He reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it as he slipped into unconsciousness.

[honeypirate]

Thanksgiving Kisses

Aizawa x fyn

A/n: okay so I felt very inspired by fire force and mha so I wanted to write a character who’s quirk is like Sho’s adolla. I also thought it would be cool to have the readers hero name be Adolla.

Hero name: Adolla

Hero suit description: simple black body suit that goes to your ankles and wrists. Easy to move in and keeps you warmer so you can hold your time freeze longer. A belt that holds your katana on your back. Thigh high black combat boots that hold several throwing knives and a dagger.

Quirk info: readers special attack requires chilling the surrounding area to such a low temperature, it reduces the heat that causes the natural expansion of the universe, resulting in time passing more slowly for everything; the sole exception being the reader, who remains at normal speed. The only downside being you can’t hold it for too long or else you’ll freeze.

My change is that Reader can also transfer the body heat from attackers into making her attacks with a katana even more powerful.

I feel like I really like this version of reader. “Adolla” reader will probably be a reocurring character for my fics.

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

“It doesnt count if you’re already planning your defeat”

You’re in the training grounds, critiquing a student that you’re giving one on one lessons after school. He’s not even trying at this point and it’s starting to annoy you.

“If you’re not fighting like it’s your last fight you’re going to get no where. You’re already accepting that you’ll fail, so you’ll fail. How can you grow into the hero you need to be if you’re not even trying?” (Wow. I sound like Mr Aizawa) you think to yourself as the student gets mad and attacks.

You activate your quirk and take a few moments as the world cools, in your demension of silence, to really look at the student’s form as he came at you. His quirk was fire and he had a fireball headed right towards you as you walked up to him, he was getting faster you’d give him that. You lightly shove him back on his butt as you release your quirk. He falls back with a grunt. “You’re getting better, quicker. If you can learn to control your anger you’ll be a great hero” you say and help him back to his feet “that’s it for today” he bows and then leaves running away from you.

You picked up your black jacket from the ground and sigh. Your teaching outfit consisted of loose black combat pants tucked into black boots with a white tank top tucked in to your pants. You had your Katana slung across your back and didn’t feel like removing it to put on your jacket so you just threw it over your shoulder. You liked to show off the tattoos on your right arm, a half sleeve of flowers and butterflies from your mid forearm to your shoulder. But for more professional meetings you kept a jacket with you, it also helped keep you warm if you had to use your quirk for so long.

“You could go a little easier on him” you chuckled as you turned to the man in the doorway, walking towards him you say “I could but the world won’t go easy on him.” He smirks and when you’re right in front of him you touch his chest “I’m just teaching like I know you would Sir” you smile coyly and look up at him Through your lashes, he chuckles “I keep saying you don’t have to call me sir. We’re coworkers and you’re not even that much younger than me. Call me Aizawa. Or Shouta even” he says and you get even closer to him and whisper “I know you like it when I call you Sir” you wink and then laugh when he blushes. You pull back and smile innocently. “Shouta it is then” You would always mess with him and tease him, the only other person he’d let tease him was Present Mic, it made you feel special.

Shouta Aizawa and you were like two peas in a pod, cut from the same cloth, you understood him and he understood you perfectly. When working together or fighting together you can read each other like a book.

You’re walking down the sidewalk with him now, heading back to the teachers dorm “Do you have any plans next week for Thanksgiving?” He asks you and you look at him with a look of shock “Shouta? do you remember my American holidays?” You ask and clutch at your heart “I’m so shocked and a little impressed.” He rolls his eyes and you laugh “I don’t have any plans. I was going to go to my parents place but they decided to go on a cruise so Im going to just stay here. I’m probably going to do some work and then cook dinner. Traditional thanksgiving dinner.” You clear your throat “I notoriously cook too much, do you wanna come?” He looks serious for a second before bumping his shoulder into yours “I’d love to. It sounds fun.” You smile at him suddenly excited “cool! You don’t think it’s weird if it’s just us right? I can invite other people but I’m just not as close with anyone else.::.” He laughs “don’t worry it’ll be fine. Not weird”

You’re bouncing with energy and excitement as you text your mom for recipes, he thinks it’s adorable as he quietly watches you in his peripheral vision. When you shove your phone into your pocket you get an idea “also Shouta?...do you happen to be good at cooking? Maybe you could come over early and help me?” You sound shy and looking at the ground “I can cook. And I’d love to help you” he says in his normal gruff voice, trying not to show how his heart fluttered and how he got excited to be around you in a setting outside of work.

You were at the dorms now and had to part ways “okay. So if we don’t have anything crazy happen with villains, you can just come over after classes are over and after you’re done with whatever work you have and we can cook and listen to music. It will be great!” You can’t help but hug him, smiling more when he hugs you back. “Thank you, Shouta. To be honest I was sad because this is my favorite holiday.” You pull back before you let yourself melt into him like you really wanted to. “You’re my hero” you say dramatically and he smiles and tucks your hair behind your ear. “I’m glad I can help”

You can’t help but activate your quirk for a few seconds, looking up at him, leaning softly into his touch.

You release your quirk and he looks confused for half a second, was your skin this cold when he first touched you? You smile up at him “I’m gonna go prepare. Thank you again. See you later” you hate leaving him. He’s like a magnet to you, you wanted to be around him always. So it was always hard to say goodbye.

He hated watching you go, always wanted to reach out and stop you, to pull you back to him and hold you tight. But he never did. He was always so afraid of having someone he loved, afraid they’d get hurt or targeted from villains. But with you it was different. He had no fears because you were by far the most powerful hero he knew. More powerful than All Might because of the fact that you could stop time. He’d have nothing to ever worry about with you, but still he held back. Overthought about it, anxiety bigger than he could handle right now.

As strong as you were, you enjoyed being low key. You never wanted to be the number one hero, you confessed to him one night walking home together, you wanted to help people not be in the spotlight. He was one of the few people who knew truly how your quirk worked and he’d always keep your secrets. You only wanted to help people like you wish someone could have helped your best friend when you were kids, who was caught in the crosshairs on the sidelines of the action. You used your quirk to focus on bystanders first then help with the villains. He adored that you were focused on doing good and not fame. Once you disappeared he shoved his hands into his pocket and went to his place.

The next day you went out and bought the groceries you would need. You were so excited you didn’t even mind carrying the heavy bags back home. “Y/n why didn’t you call me?” Aizawa appears behind you and takes some bags from your hands “Hey Shouta! I should have, you’re right! I didn’t expect it to be so much” you laugh and smile up at him as you distribute bags between you both. The way the sunlight hit you just then, you looked like an angel to him, like you had a real halo. “Next time. Promise?” He says and You laugh, warmed by how much he cares “Pinky promise!” You say and reach out linking your pinky with his around the bags you carried. That small action made him fall harder for you. The rest of the walk filled with easy conversation, he carried the groceries to your apartment before excusing himself to finish his original errands before running into you.

Before you knew it, Thanksgiving arrived! You prepped the night before making two pies, got up early to make your moms famous stuffing and stuffed the Turkey. Setting a reminder on your phone to come back and put it in the oven during lunch.

You wore socks that had turkeys on them and that was the only change to your appearance. You teach your classes and train your students before heading back to your place to flip the turkey and start prepping the other side dishes. You get home and kick off your shoes and setting your Katana on it’s shelf. You squeal excitedly as you look around your clean apartment and your small table in your dining room set up and decorated with nice plates and silverware as well as nice thanksgiving centerpieces you borrowed from home.

You flip the turkey and connect your phone to your surround sound speakers that play in the kitchen and living room, playing your favorite playlist which you mixed in holiday music to so it was a perfect mix.

While you’re in your room, changing into a red blouse tucked into a black cotton pencil skirt. Aizawa texted you to let you know he’s coming over now and you get a little nervous. You get done changing and do a little makeup before heading out and getting out ingredients and cutting boards, thankful to have busy work so you could do something with your hands. He knocks and you tell for him to come in.

“Hey Shouta. Thank you again for helping me” you smile and he nods “no problem. What do you need me to do?” You freeze the moment, he’s rolling up his sleeves and you take a good look at what he’s wearing. He actually dressed up nice for your two person party. A black button up shirt into black nice pants. He slicked his hair back into a low bun and had on socks with turkeys on them, your face flushes and you feel the cold make it’s way up your neck and back before you let the moment go and let your quirk go. You smile in embarrassment from your actions, glad he wasn’t looking at you to see the steam from your flushed cheeks and the ice. “Well the turkey needs anither hour or so, I’ve made a cheese ball and crackers for snacking in case you’re hungry. It’s what my mom used to do for us growing up”

He looks at your hands as you cut up an onion, your fingers expertly dicing. He loves your beautiful hands. Your voice brings him back to the moment. “Maybe you could make the sweet potato casserole. I have the recipe right here” you wash your hands and grab a note card from the top of the fridge. “I’m making the green bean casserole and then when we’re done the turkey will be done and we can bake them. Then after that I have cranberry sauce and bread dough to make into rolls.” He takes the note card and gets busy. You already boiled the potatoes so it wasn’t hard work, as you guys worked you talked and flirted. You stole many glances at him wishing you could reach out and kiss him. After he was done with the casserole he started making the cranberry sauce.

You finished the green bean casserole and then checked the turkey “it’s done! You grin at him and then say “can you get it out of the oven for me? It’s really heavy.” He smiles and nods “of course” he knows what you’re doing. Making him feel more manly with you, he knows your strength and this would be easy for you, but still he gets the hot pads and takes the turkey out of the oven and you easily pop in the casseroles quickly.

He sets the turkey on a towel on the counter, keeping the lid on so it would stay warm. He turns to you and you smile “thank you Shouta” you say quietly and before you realize you’ve reached out and tucked a stray strand of his hair behind his ear. You rest your hand on his cheek and gaze into his eyes.

He places a hand over yours on his cheek and his other hand on your waist pulling you close to him as he looks down at you. You look down at his lips then back to his eyes with a blush starting to reach your cheeks.

“HEYYYYOOO” Present Mic’s voice rang out through your apartment and you and Shouta quickly parted and busied yourselves with other things. “Hey! In the kitchen!” You call out. Shouta clears his throat and you look over at him and wink before Mic comes into the room

“hey Hizashi what’s up?!” You say excitedly and he matches the excitement “how come I wasn’t invited to the party?!” You laugh “I’m sorry I just. It was last minute and I assumed everyone was busy. You’re welcome to stay! And Hey I have an idea! While we wait for this stuff to bake we should put up my Christmas tree!”

Shouta should have groaned and hated this, should have rolled his eyes, but the way you lit up with excitement about putting up a tree made him happy. He smiled at you and nodded. “Sounds fun y/n” he said. Hizashi looked over at him with a furrowed brow “okay! I’ll go get it from my closet!” You wash tour hands and skip from the kitchen down the hall

“Aizawa!” Hizashi whisper yells when you’re gone “what?” He says gruffly “you sly dog. You like her!” He said and pushed Aizawa’s shoulder lightly to which Aizawa just huffed and left the kitchen.

You heard every word, your apartment carries sound so easy, Aizawa liked you! He didn’t deny it! He was trying to kiss you earlier! Amazing! You do a dance in the closet.

You realize you can’t reach the box you roll your stool from your vanity over into the closet and slowly climb on top of it, going slowly to keep your balance, once you had the box in your hand you smiled big and began to lower it to the ground but you lose your balance and the wheels of the stool rolled out from under you,

As you screamed in shock Aizawa ran and slid onto his knees catching you before you fell onto the ground “y/n!” He said looking down at you and you laugh “my hero” you say and reach up stroking his cheek.

Present Mic came running in but paused and kept quiet when he saw you both from the doorway. He decided to go back and check on the casseroles and nab some of that cheeseball he saw.

“You could have came and asked me for help” Aizawa said, still holding you to him as you stroke his cheek “and lose the oportunity to be held in your arms? Never” you say and brush your lips against his softly. You pull back after a second and just look into his eyes, a small smile on his lips as he looks back at you.

You kissed him. Your lips touched his. He wasn’t dreaming right? This is happening? Realistically it’s only been a minute since you kissed him, but it feels like his world has exploded into something beautiful. His heart is beating wild and he has butterflies in his stomach, you fit so perfectly in his arms. Your lips were so soft. Once he was sure he wasn’t dreaming his lips crashed into yours again. You melted into him, kissing him back with just as much fervor. He bites your bottom lip and takes advantage of the moment you gasp to deepen the kiss and stick his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into his mouth and pushed him down onto his back and straddled his hips. Your skirt riding up your thighs gave him the perfect view of your lace underwear when your head whipped up to the sound of the Alexa timer signaling the oven was done. “The food!”

You were on top of him one second and the next second you were gone. Activating your quirk to run into the kitchen, popping up right next to Present Mic with a mouthful of cheese and crackers which went flying from his mouth when he screamed at the top of his lungs when you just appeared out of nowhere.

He chokes on the rest of the food in his mouth, coughing with a hand on his knee, you say “Alexa stop please” as you take the casseroles out of the oven. “They look amazing!!” You squeal in excitement and turn around making eye contact with a very confused Aizawa.

“Sorry Shouta...” you whisper and try to contain your laughter. He just gives you a look that says you’ll continue that later when Hizashi leaves. “So I guess the Christmas tree is forgotten about...” Hizashi says when he finally swallows his mouth full. You pop the rolls in the oven and go get more plates to set out another spot.

When it’s time to eat you make sure they have drinks before you stand at the head of the table with a carving knife and fork in your hands you look at your friends here. You look at Aizawa the most, his expression was so kind and loving it brought happy excited tears to your eyes. “Thank you guys for coming. Aizawa for indulging me and Hizashi for showing up out of the blue. You don’t know how much this truly means to me. In my house thanksgiving has always been just a celebration of family and all of the blessings we have had through the years.” You clear your throat and laugh a little at the happy tears that spill from your eyes. Your friends are smiling at you and you continue with your speech “I am so thankful for you guys and to be able to be at this school in my dream job. you’re my friends and I’m happy to call you my family as well. Okay that’s enough of my tears” you laugh and take the napkin from the outstretched hand of Aizawa near you, dabbing your eyes to not mess up your makeup. “I’ll cut the turkey now and we can dish the rest!” The laughter and conversation ensued as your little table of two close friends began to eat and exclaim how delicious your cooking was.

After dinner was over, Aizawa and Hizashi helped you clear the table to set out the pies and whip cream and refill drinks, as they enjoyed dessert you excused yourself to the kitchen. Boxing up leftovers for them if they wanted to take some home.

“You’re something else y/n” you looked up from your last box up into the eyes of the man you were falling for “It’s my way of showing thanks to you guys for all the love I have felt tonight. We’ve all been through so much with each other, for each other, for this school. You guys are my family.” You smile back at him as you stack the boxes on the counter.

He takes your hand and pulls you back into the living room where they have have cleaned up and they’re and Present Mic is smiling wide and says “to y/n! For giving us such a wonderful night free of stress and full of delicious food!” Aizawa hands you a glass and lifts his own “to y/n!” He echos and you smile and can’t help the few tears that fall. “I’m so happy you both enjoyed yourseves.” You say and Aizawa pulls you into a side hug.

Aizawa helps you quickly do all the dishes and Present Mic takes it upon himself to put up your Christmas tree and string it with lights dramatically while singing a bad rendition of jingle bells to which he didn’t know all the words.

“So” you say with a cute laugh “about the uh,,, closet times” you giggle while rinsing a plate and placing it in a drying rack “the closet times. That’s what we’re calling it huh?” You laugh “yeah. That’s what we’re calling it. For now at least. Maybe later we can call it the moment you realized how amazing and wonderful I am and how you realized that was the moment you couldn’t live without me” you say with cocky humor and he turns off the water and finishes washing the last dish. He passes it to you and you rinse it and then take the towel he’s offering you to dry your hands on. “If we wanted to pin point that moment I’d say it was the second day I met you. The closet times was you moment I realized that I should have been kissing you all this time” you feel all giddy in your chest when he softly reaches out and takes you by your cheeks and kisses you again.

You pull back when you hear a whistle in the doorway and laugh when you see Present Mic in the doorway wagging his eyebrows and dancing. “Get outta here” Aizawa says with a little smile before he goes back to kissing you. You giggle against his lips and kiss him back. When he pulls back you tuck his loose hair again and say “nah I’m always gonna call it the closet times” you laugh when he gives you a look.

You take out the left over boxes and hand them to Hizashi as he makes his way out the door. “Thank you y/n. Tonight was just what I needed too” he kissed your cheek and then was gone.

When you turn back to look at Aizawa he’s already walking over to you. You have butterflies in your stomach as he pulls you to him and kisses you hard. “If you want to know the moment I fell in love with you that was the third day I knew you” he says and you laugh. If it was the time I beat your ass in front of your students then that’s the time I fell in love with you too” he laughs and nods “that exact moment I knew I had to have you” you kiss up his neck softly “I’m so thankful for you. And for your kisses” you whisper and he laughs “I’m thankful I finally have you in my arms. I can see why you love this holiday so much y/n. It’s one of my favorites now too” he kissed your forehead and you sighed, feeling like you finally had everything you needed in life.

[tragedy-for-sale]

All of your Bad Batch HC are *cheff kisses* the best! Srsly, keep up the good work and have a lovely day! *whispers* I can totally see Cody getting dragged into one of their misfits.

Thank you! It makes me really happy that you like my work! I hope you have a wonderful day!

*whispers* Cody's reckless side came from the Bad Batch. The four of them met Cody back on Kamino, Cody volunteered in the medbay, where the Bad Batch frequented so that's how they met.

Cody would sneak them out and use his popularity among the Kamionions and his brothers to sneak them on crazy adventures. They never got caught. The four noted how Cody acted different towards them, Hunter called him out on it.

Cody then explained how he knew a brother with defective blond hair, and how he'd spend so much time crying over being treated defective. Cody then told them if this brother was suffering, he couldn't even begin to imagine the pain the Bad Batch went through. So maybe he did treat them different, but Cody was trying to make them feel normal.

But besides that. Nowadays, the Bad Batch has been known to kidnap Cody to go on adventures. Usually to Coruscant.

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Cody will distract a civie and Crosshair will pickpocket them. They then go buy ice cream. Cody got Crosshair a T-shirt cannon once and gave people mini heart attacks by hitting them with a shirt that says 'XH' they've become an infamous thing on Coruscant. Cody and Crosshair usually gossip over some chocolate milk. These two talk so much shit. About everyone and everything. Hunter finds it hilarious that the two of them gossip like teenagers.

Cody and Wrecker are an odd duo. When they're together, they're quoting memes and waking up the other three by hitting frying pans together. The crew has dragged Cody to their favorite lake on Naboo and Cody plays chicken with them in the water. Cody and Wrecker are undefeated. When they're on a mission, Cody and Wrecker are found blowing shit up. Cody loves explosions you just don't know it.

With Tech, Cody gives him access to some things Tech shouldn't be allowed to assess. Or they'll take Hunter's Bandana and play innocent when asked. These two cause a lot of trouble if you're not watching them. They're both soooo good and sweet. You can't be mean to them. They've stolen Crosshair's sniper, and Wrecker's gonk droid too. The two also bake together. They make a bunch of muffins and whatnot for Cody to take back to his men and Tech keeps some for his brothers.

Hunter and Cody are relatively chill. But everynow and then, they're probably drunk off soda and laughing at nothing or they're dragging their brothers out to bars or arcades. They've dragged the boys to a roller rank and they now frequent it because Wrecker fell in love with it. Tech likes the food they offer and is skating with Wrecker. Crosshair's in the arcade, he can't skate. And Hunter and Cody are drinking sodas checking in on the other three.

Then Cody goes back to his normal life. He resumes his role as the functioning Commander of the 212th. He steps back into the role of being the older brother to Rex. Cody becomes serious again. Calm and collected. He plays the strong commander his brothers need him to be. But when he goes to the Bad Batch, he doesn't have to be strong or serious. He can be as chaotic and emotional as he wants. Because they don't expect anything from him but to just be their brother.

[thatonecurlygirl]

Biology of Billy Hargrove {1}

Fandom: Stranger Things

Billy x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Read: Chapter 2

Billy Hargrove was many things to many people. To many of the teenage girls, Billy was a long-awaited gift from the gods. To many teenage guys, he was the perfect entertainment. A few kids, along with Steve Harrington, fell into his crosshairs and to them, he was another monster that hid in their closet. Hell, he can be and was even a middle-aged woman’s wet dream. He’s whatever he needs to be and he is quite proud of the reputation he has built up in the lowly town of Hawkins. Again, Billy was many things but out of all of these things he was best at being trouble.

Billy’s personality didn’t really allow for much middle area when it came to liking or disliking him. People either liked him or hated him, there weren’t many that were truly indifferent to Billy’s personality. You were one of the very few people that were and luckily so because you happened to live across the street from the Hargrove-Mayfield residence which means you and Billy crossed paths pretty often but neither of you was on each other’s radars. Billy was trouble from the moment his Camaro tires crossed the city lines and you weren’t looking to get into the kind of trouble Billy Hargrove brought to the table, so you stayed out of each other’s ways, not even sparing a sideways glance.

“Oh, just look at him— all wet washing up that car of his… Let’s go outside!” Your best friend, Angie, says from your window.

“I thought you came over to watch a movie, not Hargrove’s ass.” You groan, crawling across the floor to press stop on the VCR.

“Yeah, well I came with the intention to watch a movie and got distracted.” She says, pressing her face against the window. “I mean look at it, it’s so… plump.”

“Stop it, you’re going to drool on my window” You groan.

Grabbing the nearest item off the floor, you throw it at her. The magazine goes flying and barely misses hitting her. Instead, it hits the window with a loud thwack that causes the both you to wince. The two of you stare at each other, wide eyes for a moment before busting out in a fit of laughter, something that isn’t uncommon for you and her to do.

“Uh, (y/n).” She says when she turns back around and looks out the window, her tone making you nervous.

“What?” You jump up and rush to the window.

Looking out at the ground below, you see Billy leaning against his car with a smirk, arms folded across his chest as he looks right back up at the two of you. He lifts his hand and gives a little wave, letting you know he sees you. Cursing at Angie under your breath, you slowly lift your hand and return a slight wave back to Billy before pulling Angie out of your window and closing the blinds.

“Hey!” Angie whines

“No, no more oogling Hargrove today. The last things we need is him com-”

A knock on the front door interrupts you from finishing your sentence. Angie and you look at each other and you can’t help the sigh that leaves your lungs as you exhale. You peek through your blinds to see Billy no longer standing out at his car.

“Is it him?” Angie asks over your shoulder.

“I don’t know. Let’s go see.” You turn away from the window and jog down the stairs with Angie on your heels. “How do you apologize to someone who caught you spying on them. I mean, not that I need to apologize because you were the one spying.”

“Hey, you got us caught!” Angie says defensively sash nudges you to the door, encouraging you to open it just as whoever is on the other side knocks again.

You grab the doorknob, giving it a twist and pulling on the door. Opening wide, you see the person on your porch is none other than Max Mayfield, younger step-sibling to Billy. Her hands are shoved deep in her pocket with two of her friends, Lucas and Dustin, standing beside her. The lot of them look looking nervous, glancing back at the Mayfield-Hargrove residence like a monster could come barreling out at any moment.

“Oh, hi. Y’all okay?” You step aside, letting the tree of them into your house.

“Yeah, we were just wondering if we could talk to you… alone?” Dustin asks, glancing over at Angie who looks taken aback by his request.

“Well, well what do we have here a secret meeting I’m not invited to or something?” Angie asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.

“Yeah, great seeing you. Thanks, for coming. See you soon.” Dustin says, opening the door and trying to wave her out.

“Fine, I had to go anyway.” She rolls her eyes. ��Kids, never having those heathens.” She scoffs.

“I’ll call you later, Angie.” You call to her as she walks out the door.

“Kay, bye!” She shouts back, closing the door behind her.

“Okay, spill.” You sit on the couch, facing the three middle schoolers. “What’s going on?”

You see uncertainty cross their faces for a moment as they all look at each other. It’s a look that you’ve grown to know, being pulled into the unfortunate adventures the party faces and occasionally being the one to watch over them as they inevitably get into trouble, you’ve come to read them very well. Crossing your arms and giving a stern look, Lucas is the first to cave.

“You may not like this.” He sighs out. “But, we were kind of have two big favors to ask you.” He says hesitantly.

“We need you to distract Billy for a few hours.” Max blurts out.

You narrow your eyes at the three young teenagers sitting across from you. Sure, you don’t have any major issues with Billy, other than the way he treats the kids, but you’ve never even said more than two words to him. Now all of a sudden they want you to distract him for a few hours?

“What kind of trouble did you three get yourselves into this time?” You ask.

“Billy took something of ours and we need to find it but we can’t do it with him around. Will you please help us?” Max asks.

“Fine, I’ll help but Billy and I have barely said five words to each other. Don’t you think he’d find it kind of odd?” Your question.

“You’re pretty. He has a thing for pretty girls. He won’t be able to resist.” Max says, turning toward the stairs and taking off up toward your room.

“I can’t believe I let them heathens talk me into this.” You shake your head, adjusting the straps of the bikini you are wearing.

The second favor wasn’t much of a favor but a suggestion on how to keep him preoccupied whilst the three of them search his car and his room. They searched through your swimwear until they found the perfect swimsuit and found some good snacks and took them to the pool out back behind your house. You were pretty sure they are desperate enough to even ask you to seduce him too but you don’t even dare think about that.

“Hey, Hargrove!” You shout from your front porch, catching his attention. He turns away from his car and toward you, smirking devilishly. “Wanna come over for a swim, the water’s nice!” You smile wide.

“Y/n, right?” He asks, turning off the water hose and walking across the street toward you.

You confirm his question with a nod and “yep.”

“You’re finally home alone and you decide to get half naked and invite me over?” He saunters closer, licking his lips.

“For an innocent dip in the pool. So, what do you say?”

“I’ll be right over, Princess.” He says with a wink.

“I’ll leave the gate unlocked.” You smile, pointing around the side of the house toward the side entrance to the pool before turning and walking into the house.

Once inside the house, you let out the breath of air you were holding onto. To be completely honest, you didn’t really think that was going to work, you figured that he would have seen right through you like a glass figurine but he didn’t and you were proud of yourself. The three kids look up at you expectantly and you answer them with a nod of the head.

“I don’t know how long I can keep Billy occupied so you guys need to look fast.” You tell them before walking past them toward the backyard.

You sit at the edge of the pool, feet dipped into the cool water and legs submerged up to your knees as you kick your legs back and forth. Music plays from inside the house, softly flowing from out the opened window. Peaceful is how you would describe this moment right now if only you knew it wasn’t going to inevitably be disrupted by Billy.

“Hey, Princess.” He says, swaggering in through the gate.

You pull your sunglasses slightly down the bridge of your nose and look up over them at Billy as he saunters over to you. The usual smirk of his ever-present on his face as he makes it a point to strip out of his shirt while you are watching. When his shirt is off, he tosses it to the side and jumps into the pool, purposely splashing you as he does so. He comes up out of the water with wet curls plastered to his face and a sly smile.

“Oh, did I get you wet?” He asks, a cocky tone to his voice. “I should have warned you, I have that effect on girls.”

“I asked you over for a swim, Billy, not to be a nuisance.” You roll your eyes, fighting back the smile on your face.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” He winks. “So, what’s the occasion?”

“Pardon?” You ask, taking the sunglasses off and setting them on the ground beside you as you watch Billy tread water in the middle of the pool.

“I’ve never talked to you before and all of a sudden you invite me over. I’m not complaining, being alone with a babe is never a bad thing but it just has me wondering what you want.”

Smiling you slide off the edge of the pool and into the water, letting yourself be submerged completely for a couple seconds. When you resurface you wipe the water from your face and swim just a little closer to Billy.

“Honestly, I wanted to apologize for earlier. My friend obviously thinks you are… attractive. She should not have been staring.” You shake your head, “I figured since it’s a pretty hot day, inviting you over for a swim would be a great opportunity to apologize.”

“So I’m just here so you can apologize, nothing else?” He asks, swimming closer to you.

“Nothing else.” You say with a shake of your head.

As Billy continues to swim closer to you, you swim backward away from him. Your journey back ends when you are stopped by the pool wall, Billy stop a mere foot in front of you with an unconvinced look on his face. You stand there uncomfortable, under his intense stare, wondering if he can feel how hard your heart is beating if he can hear it echoing through the water.

“Are you sure?” He asks, closing the distance between the two of you to whisper in your ear, pulling back to gauge your reaction.

“Not a chance.” You manage to say before slipping under his arm and swimming past him.

Taglist: @xicarcalii @dacremontgomerylover @super-strange-sons @the-ghostgirl-blog

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Such a Softer Sin (chapter one)

I know you all probably hate me since I’ve not been updating my other fics, but my muses have been all over the place. This one came to me, I had to write it.

It was supposed to be something short and sweet, I had planned for it to be around five chapters. But the boys had other ideas and decided they wanted more attention, so it’s ended up being a lot longer. And I mean a lot longer! :’)

The good news is that I’ve actually finished this fic which means you won't have to wait so long between chapters because they're all written. This is a first for me, I’ve never completed a fic before so yay me! :’) I’m using my own experience for Lila and her grandfather, I went through this with my grandma, so all of this is personal experience and some of it was very hard to write.

This is set pre BDS.

The title of this fic comes from lyrics, I caught fire- the used. One of my fav bands ever. I was listening to the song when this idea hit me.

‘So kiss me like you did,

My heart stopped beating,

Such a softer sin.’

Also, my Daryl Dixon muse is back and I’ve currently got 5 Daryl fics in the works. I know, 5, it's ridiculous, but he won’t leave me alone. So if you’re interested in a multi chapter Daryl fic (or five loool) then keep your eyes peeled. I’m trying to get at least 15 chapters for each of them before I start posting so that you aren't kept waiting like you have been with my others!

---------------------------------

Thunder boomed in the sky as the metaphorical heavens opened, the sky alight with flashes of lightning every so often. Lila ran as fast as her legs could carry her, her clothes stuck to her like a second skin. Of course she would get caught in this weather, she didn't know why she was so surprised at her misfortune when her whole life had been a shit show. Her first day back in Boston and she was already hating being here. She stood huddled under a shops tarp as she tried to figure out where to go next, her arms wrapped around herself like a protective shield from the rain. Her black t shirt and jeans were soaked through and felt uncomfortable, like she was wrapped in a blanket made of ice.

Lila had moved to Boston with her grandfather. She had been his live in help and carer for the past year since his dementia and lung cancer had took a turn for the worst. So when the man said he wanted to go back to Boston, she didn't feel like she could say no, and she had no intentions of not coming with him. She herself was born in Boston, her grandad was Irish and the Irish community here in Southie was booming. She was raised here by her parents, but when she was 10, her mother and grandfather decided to move to New York after her father was murdered. He was caught in the crosshairs of a mafia war, just an innocent bystander that was collateral damage. And as a result, she was left fatherless and heartbroken. She never wanted to set foot back in Boston after that, she wasn't stupid enough to think the mafia weren't still running things here despite the 11 years that had gone by. But her grandfather really wanted to come back here, the closest to home he could get since he couldn't travel. He knew he didn't have too long left, and she couldn't really deny him what was essentially his dying wish.

When they arrived, the small apartment they’d rented wasn't what she’d expected. She wasn't exactly well off and didn’t have some fancy ass place back in New York, but this was ridiculous. The whole thing was like one big room, the only private bit being the bathroom that had nothing but a toilet and a sink. There wasn't even a shower. And then there had been the search for a part time job that she had undertaken as soon as they unpacked. She didn't want to leave her grandfather at all, but he couldn't work and she needed to earn at least some money in order for them to live. But it seemed no one was fucking hiring. Either that or no one wanted to hire her. And now, on her way back home, she was caught in a storm, and she fucking hated them. Loud noises as always scared her, sending her back to being a 10 year old girl and hearing the gunshot from the car as her dad was shot, walking back to the car from paying for gas.

She was soaked, cold and scared and she needed to get inside somewhere to wait for the rain to calm down. She hadn't expected the storm, if she did she would have worn a fucking coat. Her red wavy hair that she had inherited from her mother was luckily up in a messy bun, bar a few tendrils that framed her face, lest it clung to her head and make her look like a drowned rat. She really fucking hated storms. She saw a sign across the road for a pub and she made a mad dash for it. It would be warm inside at least, and it was an Irish bar. She always felt at home there, her mother worked in one back when they lived here and then worked at another in New York. She pushed open the door and the warmth enveloped her, making her sigh with relief. She moved to sit in a booth and closed her eyes. She didn't even realise she was shivering, her clothes still wet and cold and the hair that fell around her face was dripping onto her. The warm air in the pub could only do so much to warm her whilst she was still wearing them and piss wet through.

She sniffled a little and hoped to God she wouldn't come down with a cold from being caught in the rain. She seemed to get sick at every fucking chance and it made her life that much harder. She was in her own world when a blanket was suddenly draped around her and a shot of whiskey placed in front of her, she looked up shocked only to find a pair of piercing blue eyes looking at her.

“Ye looked cold love.” The man said with a boyish smile, looking almost innocent despite his smoldering looks. She blinked at him for a minute like the cold had made her brain malfunction a little. He had dark brown hair and was dressed in a black t shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders and a pair of jeans, almost mirroring what she herself was wearing.

“Uh...thanks.” She replied, still looking a little confused. Since her life was mainly looking after her grandfather now, she had almost forgot just how it was to be in an Irish pub. The people in New York were so closed off, the opposite to how they were in this little Irish community here in Southie. He chuckled a little and shifted on his feet, looking like he wanted to sit in the booth with her but was fighting against the urge. Maybe he was waiting for her to offer, not wanting to just impose himself on her, but she couldn't find it in herself to ask him to, she wasn't really in the mood for company.

She wasn't really sure what to say, she was cold and miserable at her failure to get a job and she was worried about her grandad being back home alone whilst she was caught out in the storm. When she didn't say anything else, the man gave her a nod with a small smile before returning to sit at the bar, next to a guy wearing the same clothes but with dark blonde hair. The blonde was looking at her and he looked almost concerned and she wasn't sure why it unsettled her. She turned away from them and downed her shot, welcoming the warmth that spread through her body as she did. The men kept looking at her every so often as they spoke in hushed tones but she ignored it. If she learned anything from coming from an Irish family and having a mother that worked in Irish pubs, it was that they looked out for each other, it was one of the reasons she chose to come inside here to get warm and not anywhere else.

A few minutes passed before the barmaid came over, she looked around 40 with dark brown hair with a few grays mixed in. She had a kind face as she came over.

“Can I get ye anythin’? Some food or somethin’?” She asked with a warm smile. Lila wondered just how bad she looked if everyone seemed so concerned about her. She knew she was soaked through and she could feel her body trembling pretty bad, but she hadn’t caught a glimpse of herself and she wasn't sure she wanted to with how everyone was acting.

“I’m okay thank you. I just need to wait for the storm to pass.” She replied with a small smile of her own, but it didn't meet her eyes.

“Do ye need te call anyone? We have a phone ye can use.” The woman offered politely. Lila thought about it, it would be good to check in with her grandad and make sure he was okay.

“Yeah, thanks. I need to check in with my granda.” Despite the fact she was born in Boston, her parents were both Irish born and bred. Lila didn't have an accent yet she still said the same terms the Irish used as a result of her Irish upbringing. The woman could tell she had at least some Irish in her, her hair was a dead giveaway and her pale skin. The woman nodded and led her to the phone behind the bar and Lila followed gratefully, the blanket still wrapped around her.

The phone wasn't exactly private, it was right behind the bar and next to the man who had helped her earlier and his friend. They were both watching her curiously and it was making her slightly uncomfortable as she picked up the receiver and dialed her grandfather's new number. She knew the men wouldn't be able to hear the whole conversation and she hoped the lull of conversation in the bar was enough to drown out her side of it too. After a few rings her grandfather answered.

“Hello?” He asked gruffly, making her grimace a little. Her grandfather was always a lovely man, affectionate and happy. But since his condition got worse he started getting angry, a short fuse. His confusion made him mad and she felt sorry for him. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like to forget things like he did, important things and people.

“Granda? Are you okay?” She asked softly, her hand clutching the receiver tightly. She knew when he sounded like this he was having one of his moments.

“Who the fuck is this?” He barked at her. Her heart squeezed a little, she would never get used to having to deal with this.

“It’s Lila granda, your granddaughter, remember?” She prompted softly, sometimes that was enough to make him remember and snap out of it, but as time went on it was getting harder and harder to do it.

“I don’t have a granddaughter! Are ye takin’ the piss? Who is this?” He growled angrily, making her bow her head and inhale a shaky breath. It didn't matter how many times she went through this, every time he forgot who she was and acted like this towards her, it hurt like hell. She felt tears stinging her eyes and she tried to summon the courage to answer him.

“I just told you granda, it’s Lila. Your daughter Mary’s daughter. I live with you remember? I take care of you.” Her voice wobbled as she spoke, betraying her at how upset she was getting. There was a long silence on the phone and she wondered if he was even still there.

“Aye...Lila...where are ye? Shouldn't be out in a storm lass.” She breathed a sigh of relief and sniffled a little, a mixture of the cold and the pain expanding in her ribcage.

“I got stuck in the rain granda, I’m waiting it out in a pub. I’ll be home soon okay?” She said softly as she wiped her eyes. She knew despite the fact he currently remembered her, once she got home she would have to go through it again. It was never ending and it was getting harder for her to deal with. The 21 year old girl hadn't ever expected to be caring for another person like this, to have to watch them deteriorate before her very eyes. The man had raised her after her father had died, it was killing her to see him like this.

“Alright, be safe gettin’ home Delila.”

“I will granda. Love you.” She wiped her eyes again and bit her lower lip with a sigh.

“Love ye too.” With that, he hung up.

Lila put the phone back and heaved a sigh, she could feel eyes on her and she glanced to her left to see the same two men watching her sympathetically and she fucking knew they had heard her. She looked away feeling weak and pathetic for being such a mess and walked back over to the booth she had been sitting at. Ten minutes later the rain had calmed down enough and she knew she had to go before it picked up again. She stood and folded the blanket neatly, bringing it with her empty shot glass to the bar and handing them to the barmaid from earlier. The woman gave her a warm smile before she slipped out of the door and made her way back to the tiny apartment that she now shared with her grandfather.

[winsister91]

Breaking A Promise

Part Eight - Monster

Summary: Y/N is back at the bunker, she isn’t the only who’s been taken back.

Characters: Dean x reader, Demon!Dean, Sam, Cas

Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence, torture? angst, themes of addiction, guilt

Word Count: 2750

A/N: Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for the amazingly awesome support and comments on this series! Super special shout outs to @sofreddie and @waiting-to-find-myshadows for looking this over and being supportive little babies <3

Series Masterlist Full Masterlist

~ Series and forever tags are open! ~

(italics are flashbacks)

Your eye’s gradually opened. The sound of nothing but deep, content, breaths greeting you. It was a chilly morning. The sheets and Dean’s body providing a comforting shield from the brisk, cold air.

He was adorable when he slept. Peaceful. Like looking at a secret hidden side of the cocky, sarcastic, cheeky badass that was Dean Winchester.

He rolled onto his back, breaths becoming light snores. It made you smile. Waking up next to him always did. Every morning started the same. You’d wake up, take a moment to drink him in, watching his chest rise and fall. You’d plant a small peck on his forehead, then tentatively creep out of bed to make the morning coffee to greet him with. If you didn’t wake him, chances were he’d sleep all damn day. You’d put the coffee down on the bedside table, climbed back under the sheets and gently nudge him out of his dreamland. He’d say “Morning Sweetheart”, smiling up at you as you passed him the hot, fresh cup and you’d sit and take all the time he needed before facing the day.

You slowly turned your body to begin the morning tradition. But something was wrong. Dean was grunting in his sleep. You turned to look at him in worry, his face scrunched up in what could only be anger or pain. He started to twitch and convulse. You jumped from the bed and watched in horror as he thrashed out, grunting and shouting. Turning back onto his side and hissing, his eyes tightly locked and his body rocking while a thin layer of sweat formed on his skin. His shouting growing louder.

“Dean!” you cried, jumping back onto the mattress and pinning his clenching fists down to steady him.

His eyes snapped open wide. He reeled for a moment, eyes flitting around frantically before they finally settled on you.

“Hey…” you said comfortingly, wiping the sweat from his brow, “It’s okay…”

He pushed himself up, leaning back against the headboard as he caught his breath.

“M-morning Sweetheart,” he said eventually, his eyes finally softening, “Sorry…”

“Shhh… it's okay, you're okay.” Forgetting the coffee and settling under the sheets next to him, arms tight around his shoulders.

It dawned on you that this was becoming the new morning tradition. Four mornings in a row now. It was since he got that damn mark.

“You okay?” you asked, cupping his face in your hands, rubbing your thumb along his cheek.

“Y-yeah,” he mumbled, before shaking his head and bringing out the bravado, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“I already hate that thing…” you whisper, brushing your finger over the symbol on his arm.

“It’s necessary,” Dean sighed, bringing an arm around you and pulling you in tight, “So long as I got you, I know we’ll get through this new chapter of crap.”

He shakes you encouragingly and you smile.

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking into his eyes, “I know we will.”

“What’s the worst that can happen, huh?” he laughed, climbing out of bed and slipping into his robe, “I’ll fix the coffee today.”

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

“Ah!” you wince, eyes gradually opening. You couldn’t see much. Your eyes were full of dust and sharp grit. Your ears were ringing and you could just make out the sound of distant sirens. Weight presses on you. Sharp edges digging in your back as you laid on the course ground. Rubble and debris. You try to move, every muscle twinging and sending sharp pains through you. Clenching your jaw and taking a deep breath, you summon the strength to move. Pushing yourself up, grunting through the pain as bricks and mortar fell from your body as you sat up.

You gulp in the fresh air, relishing a mouthful of oxygen not containing dust and dirt. Supporting yourself on one arm, you look around. Total destruction. You recognise the location. The Red Dragon Inn was supposed to be here, but all that was here now was a scorched ruin.

Your eyes burn as the reality of the destruction hits you. You see numerous paramedics rushing around tending to injured victims. You hear people crying. Crowds of bystanders looking on in shock.

You choke for more air, but your throat closes in on itself. You did this.

“Sammy…” you pant as your eyes well up, “Dean…”

You try to pull yourself up to a standing position, but your muscles give way, sending you crashing back to the ground.

“No,” you shook your head rapidly, internally ordering yourself to get the hell up.

You try again, one of your hands pressing into your hip to support your weakened muscles. Your hand suddenly feels warm and wet. You glance down at it, seeing it was now painted red with your blood. The wound Dean gave you on your side was still bleeding heavily. The sight of it made you realise just how light headed you felt. Your eyes began to involuntarily roll back as you blacked out.

“Y/N!” you hear Sam shout, but you can’t open your eyes. You feel the cold sensation of metal clanking around your wrists. You don’t fight it.

You’re being moved, a sudden rush of feeling weightless as a breeze grazes across your forehead.

A car door shutting snaps you back. Had you passed out? Everything hurt, everything was a blur as you faded in and out. You’re sat now as a seatbelt is fastened around you. You can just about lift your eyelids to see the Impala’s dash. The rearview mirror. A pair of piercing black eyes glaring at you darkly in the glass. Everything went dark, losing all sense of consciousness, your body went limp.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

You jolt awake. Gasping for breath. Sitting up on the bed you glanced around frantically. You’re in the bunker, one of the bedrooms, surrounded by magic warding glyphs. They weren’t necessary. Some considerable time must have passed as you felt no trace of the blood’s power in you. Sam must have been relatively confident too, seeing as you no longer had any cuffs on your wrist.

You shift your legs around to step off of the bed. Your side twinges, making you wince. Lifting up your shirt you can see the wound from the First Blade was tightly stitched up and healing.

Sammy...

Raking a hand through your hair, you take a more cautious approach to movement, tentatively stepping across towards the door. Locked. Understandably.

Just got to wait it out I guess...

You sigh, dreading the thought of the next few weeks. It was going to be hell. You’d done this before, you knew the pain and torture that was incoming. The cravings and the isolation. The frustration and fighting to get through it. You weren’t sure if you wanted to fight through it. You’d done terrible things, and what for? Dean? The new right-hand man to the King of Hell? You didn’t deserve another chance.

Voices. Shouting. Intrigued, you press an ear to the door, narrowing your eyes as you tried to listen.

“Shut up,” you heard Sam’s voice, “This isn’t you. You’re a monster.”

“A monster?” you heard Dean laugh, the sound of his voice striking a sickening sensation in your belly, “I’m a monster, really? I’ve never felt damn better. And what about you? You and that batshit crazy ass bitch you got cooped up in here somewhere?”

Silence. You felt the guilt grip your heart, squeezing it tightly to the point of bursting.

“Y/N was trying to find you,” Sam eventually responds, “I don’t condone her methods, but she was trying to find you, and I’m going to help her like I’m helping you.”

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy…” Dean chuckles, you can picture his face in your mind. Grinning broadly, the cocky smirk turned dark. The memory of his eyes flashing black made you feel ice cold, “Always the good guy! The saviour, looking out for us all!”

“You’re my brother,” Sam says sternly, “And Y/N is my friend. I’m helping you both because it’s the right thing to do.”

Your heart swells for a moment. A distasteful combination of love, guilt, and regret. You didn’t deserve Sam’s help. Not after all of this. He should be putting you down, not pulling you out of this hole. You try to shake the morbid feelings, instead attempting optimism. You were going to do better. You will fight through this. For Dean and Sam.

Dean roars in pain, making you jump.  

What is Sam doing?

“You’re the monster, Sammy boy!” Dean bellows in rage, “Just like her! You let her do the crap she did! You used her to get to me! You let people die!”

A door slams shut. Your bottom lip trembles. Dean’s words sinking into you. You slip down the wall next to your door, sitting on the cold floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. Dean was right, you are a monster.

You rake your fingers through your hair, pulling it harshly before getting back on your feet. You start to pace up and down the room. Your mind going a million miles per hour. Conflicted thoughts. You wanted to fight this and make amends. You also wanted to just die. Punish yourself for the lives you’d taken on your blood rampage. Sam had brought you back here though. He wanted to help and save you. Save Dean. That was your shared objective through all of this. But at what cost? People died. Innocent people were dead simply for getting caught in your crosshairs. Sam was stupid letting you live, he should’ve just killed you. Or at least kill you before you go off the rails again. You owed him so much though, you had to fight through this for him. Then you can both see to Dean, help him together. It was too cruel putting Sam through all of this alone.

The thoughts come faster, jumping from each side of your confliction. Images of pouring blood start to interfere, reminders of the rush, the power. Pain screeching in your temple.

“Fuck…” you whine, gasping for air as your first withdrawal attack hits, “Fuck off!”

The lights of your room suddenly shut off. Snapping you back to reality. Everything was now bathed in red as an alarm sounded. You stand dazed for a moment in confusion, the bunker had gone into lockdown.

“Sammy?” you call out, rushing to the door, “What’s going on?”

No answer.

“Sammy!!” you shout again banging on the door.

“Smart Sam!” you hear Dean’s voice echo outside the door. Your heart stops as fear and panic take over, “Locking the place down...doors won’t open. I get it! But here’s the thing… I don’t wanna leave! Not until I find you! You and that crazy ass junkie bitch!”

“Shit!” you hissed, tugging at the door handle manically, you were a sitting duck stuck in here.

You take a few steps back and lunge your shoulder into the door with all your strength. Of course, it doesn’t budge. It doesn’t after three more tries either. On the third, the sensation of tearing flesh ripped through your side as Sam’s stitches came apart. You drop to the floor, clutching them as the blood began to ooze through. Just have to wait it out and hope he doesn’t find you.

“Let’s finish this game!!” Dean’s voice sounded close. You hold your breath, frozen on the spot.

After some time passes in silence you grant yourself permission to start breathing again, they came in short sharp gasps as your heart thudded against your rib cage.

You decide to move, cautiously tiptoeing back towards the door. You slowly lean your ear towards it. The silence unnerved you. Not knowing what was going on out there was worse than hearing the Demon’s taunts as he prowled the halls.

Crash. A loud bang rattled the door. You jump back with a scream as more crashes come. You hastily look around the room for anything you could defend yourself with, but Sam had evidently stripped it clean.

A hole splintered through the wood, green eyes peering at you from the other side.

“There you are Sweetheart,” Dean sneers, “I’d offer you a little pick me up but I’m scared you’ll bring the place down again!”

“D-Dean,” you stutter, “You’re in there somewhere still, I know it. You don’t want to do this.”

“Hmmmm,” his eyes shoot up, lips pouting as he pretended to think about it, “Yeah, I think I do!”

He pounds again at the door with the hammer in his grasp. Every crash startling you as your fear reaches new heights.

He makes short work of it, standing in the smashed up doorway with a smirk before taking slow, torturous steps in your direction.

“I’m not going to fight you, Dean,” you shake your head, every step of his bringing your heart closer to your throat.

“That’s just boring,” he shrugs, pointing the hammer at you, “You’re not even going to make this a little fun for me?”

He presses the head of the hammer into your chest, raising an eyebrow and sighing in disappointment.

“Or is it because you can’t?” he asks, “Too weak without a fix. Useless and pathetic.”

“Once maybe,” you reply darkly, “But someone went and showed me how to be a hunter.”

Remembering the moves the man standing before you had once taught you, you grab the head of the hammer. Using your body weight for momentum you swing yourself around, the tool flying from his clutches as you fuel all your strength into one harsh strike on his cheek. You run for the door whilst he’s dazed, fighting through the searing pain shooting from your wound.

“Now that’s more like it!” Dean cheers, following you in pursuit.

The burning tear in your side intensifies, reducing your run to a hastened stagger. Gripping onto it tightly, you push your way around the corner, navigating through the endless corridors. You can feel your own blood dripping, leaving droplets on the polished flooring. A morbid breadcrumb trail for Dean to follow. Without even breaking into a jog he catches up to you, the worst game of Cat and Mouse of the century.

“Sam!!” you wail desperately, just as Dean grabs your shoulder.

He spins you around to face him before ramming your hard into the wall. Holding you tight around the neck, he jams two fingers deep into your wound, opening the stitches more. You scream in agony, darkness clouding your vision.

“I always loved it when you screamed for me,” he whispers into your ear, his hot breath fanning down your neck.

He smacks you with the back of his hand and you crumple into a heap on the floor. Groaning as the pain ravages and throbs. He kicks you hard in the chest, winding you, rupturing something internal as you feel your own hot, irony blood flooding up your windpipe and leaking from your mouth.

Grabbing the scruff of your shirt, he lifts you back to your feet, taking aim with the hammer.

“Party’s over,” he winks.

You hold your breath, close your eyes and brace yourself. You don’t fight back or resist. You welcome it.

“Enough Dean,” you hear Sam’s voice, shaky and fearful. You open your eyes to see the younger brother, holding the demon blade to Dean’s neck. He’s panting and wide-eyed, staring at his older brother who just looks back with a smile.

“Well,” Dean coos, “Look at you.”

Sam doesn’t respond, briefly glancing at the bloodied mess you were before returning back to his brother.

“Do it,” Dean teases, his tongue slightly poking through his teeth, “It’s all you…”

You want to say something. To intervene. Every part of you was in so much pain you were struggling to breathe. There was nothing you could do. But you didn’t need to.

Sam lowered the blade from Dean’s neck, making the Demon chuckle darkly. He motioned to swing for the younger Winchester, eyes flitting to that awful black, but he was stopped. Cas was stood behind him and threw his arms around him tightly, keeping Dean in place.

“It’s over,” Cas grunted, his eyes illuminating blue as his grace depowered the struggling Demon, “Dean, it’s over.”

His eyes still black, Dean roared in rage and frustration. Sam knelt down beside you as Cas guided Dean away down the corridor.

“You’re all right,” Sam reassures you as you clenched your eyes and gritted your teeth from your agony, “I’ll have Cas look you over. You’ll be all right.”

“You should have let him do it,” you whimper, “You should’ve let him kill me.”

Tags! Forever Posse: @sofreddie @chelsea072498 @ria132love @untitled39887 @chicagolove88 @akshi8278 @sis-tafics @younoeatcheeseyounobefat @mandilion76 @teamfreewill92 @supernaturalmagicfolk @emoryhemsworth @musicistobeheard-blog @pheonyxstorm @mrswhozeewhatsis @turnttover @itspronouncedsatanbitch @the--real-wombat @xagateophobiax @samisimportant @jensen-gal @castiel11235 @waiting-to-find-myshadows @19agbrown

Breaking A Promise Squad: @arikas5744 @lessons-of-red @spnaddict11283 @lemonchapstick

[preciousrichard-blog]

Second Thoughts, Second Chances (Sniper/Spy)

Chapter 1:  Rigid Fingers

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9419246/chapters/21321191

Rating: Teen+

Chapter Summary: Australians and snowstorms don’t really mix, so the RED sniper is having a rough day at work. The enemy spy stops by for a one of his strange visits that doesn’t involve stabbing any backs. Somehow the two find cold weather is better together. 

"Do us a favor would ya kid?" Sniper mumbled, eye squinted into the lens of his scope, "Get lost." And he fired, the stock of his rifle mechanically recoiling into his shoulder. A scream resounded in the far distance.

The scout who was standing behind him gave him an incredulous look, his hands in his pockets.

"Hey fine," the young man snorted, breath clinging to the air in clouds of vapor, "no skin off my nose. Hope your ass freezes to that crate there."

The sniper pulled away from leaning on the beam of his roost. The dry snow that lay upon on it fell in a flutter over the side and spread across the air. Sniper noted it and grimaced, pulling his gun in and setting it upright against the railing.

"You should be cappin' points not yammerin' on. Get bloody goin'!" He chided as the young man drew his shoulders in and furrowed his brow.

The scout had run up into the nest as an excuse to escape the cold wind down below, chatting on about this or that as Sniper made his shots into the open expanse of snow. One could only take so many distractions before he got fed up with all of them. Between the snow drifting in his sights, the cold in his bones, and the ringing of that snide and arrogant Boston accent, Sniper was just about ready to pack up and demand they all call it a day. Scout offered a few more vaguely offended remarks before he regarded the pointed stare of his team mate and clambered off down the steps.

Sniper receded into the warmth built up in his heavy jacket for a moment after, pulling his scarf up closer against his neck. He pushed his Mann Co. Brown Bomber hat down securely before heaving a frustrated huff and picking his rifle up from against the wooden railing. He was careful not to shift any more snow, lest he be spotted. He really did hate the winter.

Forced to work with fingerless gloves, the skin of his hands had become dry and thin with the air. He fumbled with the slippery bolt handle as he pulled it free. Taking a round from his ammunition he easily slipped it inside and pushed the bolt, cursing harshly when it shut hard against his finger. He drew back and brought the pinched appendage to his mouth, muffling the curses seething out as he nursed the ache. At least it wasn't bleeding. With the round in the chamber he settled and took aim at a BLU soldier visible just around the corner near the enemy dispenser. The poor stupid bastard was just standing there begging for a bullet in the temple. Sniper pulled the trigger, but his crosshairs faltered as a shiver wracked his body and he shot right over his head.

"Are you bloody seriou- ugh..." The sniper hissed again, reloading clumsily as he watched the helmet move back behind the wall.

That must have been the last straw for the man, because he slung his rifle over his shoulder and sank back into his seat on the crates with folded arms. He had to have looked like a child who hadn't gotten his way but he couldn't find it in himself to care. To hell with the match, no one was getting anywhere today and the back and forth was mind numbing. He couldn't work when he was frozen stiff and he was as good as useless after a snowstorm like last night. It didn't help that he was out of coffee and what was left in his mug was frozen solid. A creaking in the floorboards alerted him to turn his head, catching a glimpse of blue ambling toward him casually.

"If you don't bugger off..." He muttered as he turned back around, fidgeting in his seat to sink further into his layers, "I'll turn ya into a piss-cicle."

The figure behind him chortled, smooth and warm, "I am astounded you can relieve yourself at all without it turning to ice immediately."

"I'll just have to shank ya with a dagger made'a piss then." Sniper snorted back.

"Sniper, we both know daggers are not your style."

The sharpshooter knew, just from the way the man strolled up to him, who he was. The smell of spice and tobacco wafted across the lofty nest as his vaguely European accent filled the space. The BLU spy had done this before, many times. One day he simply started talking instead of stabbing. At first Sniper pinned it as trickery and sent the blue bastard through respawn at every attempt. But after a while and a chance to humor the masked man’s questions, they began to chat occasionally. Now their relationship consisted of mostly the same professional rivalry as always, save for bizarrely tame and casual conversations when the spy approached him with his guard clearly down. They usually never killed each other on days like those.

"Have you clocked out already?" Spy inquired, hands in his pockets, leaning over the crate to glance at the man's expression.

"We shouldn't even be out here." Sniper puffed back, vapor visualizing his words, "Why can't the administrator just call a ceasefire?"

Blowing smoke to the side, Spy scanned around the room, "You know how it is up there," his attention fell upon a stack of jars, "we are disposable to them, it is rare they display such... Compassion."

He circled around the crates and stopped short of the stack of jars on the floor. He glanced at the sniper who was merely staring across the battlefield, then hesitantly tapped the glass with his shoe.

"Mon Dieu." He said mostly to himself, eyebrows twitching upward, "You might as well throw bricks. They're frozen solid."

Sniper regarded him with a twitch of his mouth, "Can whip ya up a fresh batch if you prefer it warm." He scoffed, cocking an eyebrow.

Disgust washed over Spy's face much to Sniper's amusement, and he laughed through his nose at the way the other curled away from the jars.

"Always charming." Spy said, rolling his eyes.

He idly smoked, standing just behind the sniper and gazing someplace far past the complex. He thought he saw a deer past the fences, but before he could get a good look he noticed the way Sniper shivered, and the red painted on his nose and fingers when he brought them up to breathe on them. The spy rummaged in his pockets.

"Do you have a lighter?" He questioned at the man curled up before him.

The sniper flicked his head toward him, surprised for a second before reaching toward his pockets, "Uh, nah mate I only carry a book'a matches. Need a light?"

Before he could get them, Spy was holding a silver lighter before him, clicking it to life. The glow alone warmed his face, awash suddenly in orange against the dark gray brown light of the roost.

"Warm your fingers, they look dreadful." Spy tutted, "What kind of sniper would you be if they fell off?"

Sniper curled his upper lip at him for a moment, then grabbed the little thing from him a bit more forcefully than he intended. He felt embarrassed that the BLU spy of all people felt pity for his pathetic shivering state. He looked up and saw the cool gray of Spy's eyes watching him intensely, keeping track of every motion. It always made Sniper feel put on the spot.

"Where's your BLU sniper?" He asked carefully, lowering the flickering flame and gazing out below, "Last thing I need is my bloody head blown off while distracted by you."

"He's caught a cold of all things." Spy sighed, "Honestly, how careless. I doubt you will see him today."

Warily, Sniper nodded and brought the lighter up to his hands, thawing the frigid and numb fingers which were course and unwilling to move. He sighed at the welcome warmth, bending his joints as they melted into more pliant movement. Spy seemed content with it, giving a satisfied hum while taking another long drag off of his cigarette. When the last of his aching faded, Sniper leaned comfortably back and snapped the lighter closed.

"Fancy thing," he snorted, looking it over, "You sure love to throw you're bloody money away on nonsense."

"It is not nonsense. It is a reliable lighter, never mind the price." Spy spat back.

"Yer always buyin' trinkets you don't need ya bloody ponce."

"You are not one to tell me what I need." Spy's voice grew venomous.

"Nobody needs that rubbish you carry around. Yer just a wanka who does it fer show." He toyed with the metal, "And with flowers engraved on the side? You come off as a right pooftah."

Spy stepped before him at that, holding his palm out. He looked displeased, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulling hard on one side in a sneer. What he really wanted was to snatch it back from him and give him a piece of his mind, being thoroughly insulted at his insinuations. He watched as Sniper's eyes got wider, looking about for only a second before coming down on the lighter. He put it in Spy's palm tentatively, and Spy watched him deflate.

"Some thank you." Spy snapped.

"Sorry..." Sniper murmured, and Spy stilled where he stood.

He looked down at Sniper; his hands were fiddling with his fingers. He looked him up and down, and still the man wouldn't look up at him.

"What?" Spy asked, leaning in, a bit of disbelief in his features.

"M'sorry." He responded more clearly, "I'm bein' an arse... It's all this bloody snow."

Spy couldn't believe his ears. "You never apologize to me."

"Look I know when I say too much alright?" Sniper looked defeated, and Spy couldn't fathom the change.

He put a hand on Sniper's shoulder, and he flinched, although it could have been a shiver from the cold. He finally looked up at that, meeting his eyes, breath stilling when he acknowledged the softness in the masked man's expression. He looked away quickly.

"It's quite alright," Spy reassured melodically, "we're all finding difficulties in this weather."

Sniper sighed; he felt warmth creeping from Spy's touch. It was too casual, too jarring in its innocence. He wanted to push his hand away but his arms wouldn't move. Instead he sat, looking at his boots and the scattering of snow dusted across the floor. There was something about the enemy Spy that the RED spy didn't share. Including his strange interest in the Australian man. Of all the people in his proximity who he suspected might want to be his acquaintance, the BLU spy was always last on that list. But for some reason he kept coming back. For years it's been his instinct to spite the man, spitting insults and curses at him. What else could be expected when he spent half his battles waiting to respawn from a knife in his spinal column? But now, somehow they'd gotten to this point; sharing lighters and conversations in the middle of a war zone.

"Hey Spy?" Sniper piped up when the others hand returned to his cigarette.

"Oui?" Spy asked, cocking a brow.

"Why'd'ya come here?" Sniper asked, quieter, his hands going back to play idly with his finger joints.

"Why?" Spy parroted, turning fully to the other, "Well it is cold, and I do hate getting my clothes wet."

"No you git." Sniper sighed, thumbing at his palm, "Why come chat at all...?"

"Have you changed your mind?"

"What?"

"About chatting."

"Wh... No."

"Then-"

"Just answer me would ya?" Sniper was beginning to look a bit disheveled.

Spy pondered for a moment, thumb and forefinger coming to rest on his chin. He shifted his weight to one leg and looked over the Sniper's form. Sniper gulped quietly, acutely aware of the places those eyes began to roam. He felt scrutinized, and exposed. It embarrassed him.

"You are interesting," Spy finally said, "that is why."

"Like a science project?" He gawked, monotone.

Spy snorted some sort of laughter stuck in the back of his throat that he tried to hold in and failed. Sniper puffed up indignantly and was about to open his mouth to retort when Spy continued.

"Non no mon amie, like a puzzle." He smiled, snuffing the butt of his cigarette into the snow on the railing.

Sniper must have looked visibly perplexed, because Spy only chuckled again.

"You hang around me because yer tryin' to figure me out?" He said, treading carefully on his tone.

"Not quite." Spy smiled, "I 'hang around' because I very much enjoy your company."

"That don't make much sense Spy. You hate my way'a life." Sniper furrowed.

"As dirty as it is-" Spy threw a hateful glance at the jars of frozen jarate, "I find it doesn't make you any less of a person per-say." He stepped back and took a graceful seat on the crate beside the man, "You intrigue me, and I'm quite fond of your rustic atmosphere."

Sniper wasn't sure when he stopped breathing, but he willed himself to continue once Spy settled onto his seat. He listened, and felt a soft quivering in his chest. He brushed it aside, and tried to keep eye contact.

"I'm a simple man." The Aussie said quietly, "I like simple stuff, nothin' fancy about me. We're not much alike mate."

"And that's what keeps this so interesting." Spy smirked, "As simple as you claim you are, you cannot deny that deep down we both seek the same things out of life."

Sniper looked at him like he had his head on backwards. Spy noticed, and waved his hand with a chuckle.

"Think about it," He began, "we're both men who seek comfortable lives. We like our privacy. The reason you send your pay checks home? Security. Yet another goal we have in common."

"Yer just listing things every bloke is lookin' for." Sniper scoffed.

"We both seek out our purpose in life by killing men for a living." Spy continued, looking out into the snow and regarding something unseen softly.

Sniper quieted at that. His hands returned to fidgeting. Spy hung around him because he considered them alike at their core but worlds apart on the surface. And Sniper didn't know how he felt about that.

"You're a world traveling Spy. I'm sure you've met plenty'a folks just like me." Sniper returned, "I'm nothin' special. Just an average fella with the best bloody aim you've ever seen."

Finally Spy let out his laughter. It spilled forth from his throat so suddenly he covered his mouth, looking around all the while to make sure no one nearby had heard.

"How can a man be so humble and proud at once?" He bellowed, rubbing at the corner of his eye.

Sniper couldn't help smiling. If he took pride in anything it was his aim and his aim alone. He didn't regret flaunting a gift that made him who he was.

"I've never met a man like you in my life." Spy said suddenly, seriously.

Sniper snapped his gaze up, finding Spy staring at him, a gleam in his eye that made Sniper feel so vulnerable he could swear the man was reading his thoughts. There was the flutter again, and an ancient feeling he pushed down faster than he could register it.

"Well... I..." The Sniper hesitated, "I s'pose I can say the same about you."

Something was off. Something about the entire situation felt turned on its head somehow and it frustrated the Aussie to find himself lacking the words to describe it. Spy watched him process, his mind working hard to think about all that'd been said. The corners of the spy's lips quivered with the fight of a smile, and he almost wanted to reach out and tug on his hat to bring him back to Earth. Then maybe he'd rub his stubbled chin... Or caress his chee- no. The Spy's eyes snapped open again, glancing wildly to see if Sniper had caught him daydreaming. Once he was sure the other was too preoccupied with thinking, he squeezed his eyes shut when he blinked to clear out the fog. He could feel his heartbeat, and it only drove him further into worry. He was scolding himself for daring to get so imaginative when he felt a hand on his back.

He shivered, and not from the cold.

"Hey mate," Sniper said, smiling at him so very innocently, "you're alright."

Spy gazed at the railing for a moment, running the word through his head, translating it in French. Satisfied, he turned to the other and patted a firm palm on his shoulder.

"You as well amigo, I-"

[You failed! STALEMATE.]

The two of them flinched in unison as the screech of the loudspeaker interrupted, the Administrators harsh and judging voice shaming them all equally.

"Bloody hell..." Sniper groaned, "Great."

Spy too, seemed to deflate as the lines on his face grew deeper.

Neither of them had gotten much work done that day, as was the usual routine when they slacked off together and spent the hours talking. They knew they wouldn't hear the end of it for their lack of support, but at the very least they didn't have to worry about being on the front lines.

"Wait what time is it-" Sniper chimed in, lifting his arm and pulling his sleeve up to check his watch, "Hey, it's 10 till 4-"

Spy looked up at him with a spark in his eyes.

"Last match'a the day mate!" Sniper grinned, the life returning to his body knowing his shift was finally over.

Spy smiled back fondly, soaking in the happiness in Sniper's voice. He sat firmly in place while watching the taller fellow stand, stretching with all the vigor of a new man. He looked as liberated as he must have felt after such a grueling winter day. Spy's eyebrows twitched up at the several pops of his joints, he tried to fathom what a terrible job sniping must be in this weather. He smirked at the bashful way the Aussie glanced over at him, trying to play off the sounds of aging bones but making a point of them instead. Spy wanted to laugh, but thought better of it. Standing, he reached into his coat and pulled his silver disguise case from his inside pocket. Sniper was picking up his mug as Spy picked another cigarette and placed it in his mouth. The two of them stood there, staring at each other, not too sure what to say. But it was Sniper who spoke first.

He swallowed, "Say uh, mate... We're always talkin' outside n' all..." He reached up to scratch behind his scarf, "We should grab some coffee indoors sometime eh?"

Spy stared right into the pupils of his eyes, "Well," he heard his heart drumming, "Why not now?"

"We- I'm..." Sniper shoved his hands into his pockets and balled them into fists, eyes darting away, "I meant maybe when I moved back into the van- I'm in the base right now." He tried to smile.

"What about town?" Spy interrupted, terrified of his own boldness, and leaning in without realizing.

Sniper looked over and shifted his weight, his chest felt tense and welled with the same feeling he'd been constantly ignoring. But this time it seemed to be unavoidable and spilled over, draining into all of his limbs and into his face. His cheeks grew warm and he realized he must look rather pink. He hoped Spy would attribute it to the cold. The thought of the crowds of people all around them made his heart hammer harder. But he was filled with a glowing of hope that Spy had not rejected the whole thing in the first place.

"I uh- I..." He stammered, "As in, a coffee place?" He recited a string of colorful curses in his head at how dumb he sounded. Of course a coffee place you moron.

"Yes-" Spy heard himself growing enthusiastic, he wanted what was happening and he couldn't help himself. "Perhaps a nice eatery or a café." He smiled, but in his painful self awareness he tried to stifle it.

Sniper took the odd expression on his face as acknowledgment of his poor choice of words. He felt his face grow hotter. He was making a fool of himself. He chided himself mentally for even suggesting the two converse outside of work. He wondered if he was making the spy uncomfortable, they weren't exactly supposed to get along, even if there was nothing explicitly saying they couldn't. After all, his demoman and the BLU soldier hung about each other after hours, but they still fought each other just fine. The thought eased him somewhat.

"Sounds fine." Sniper smiled weakly.

"Well, shall we?" Spy smiled, putting on his usual charm and bowing with his palm beckoning the stairs.

"Ah I'm- well I'm in my work clothes." Sniper stuttered, surprised at how suddenly all of this was happening.

"But of course, we can leave around..." Spy flicked his wrist up to look at his watch, and Sniper couldn't believe it actually told the time. "6'o'clock. Don't bother eating, we may as well have dinner there."

"Uh- where?" Sniper cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Don't worry mon amie, I know just the place. We will meet by the roadside yes?" He hurried, straightening his appearance with careful fingers.

Sniper hadn't anticipated going right away. He drew his shoulders up and his fists clamped tighter. He didn't really want to travel out to town, but now he felt no choice. Spy was one of those social butterfly types who could talk to anyone when he wasn't hiding somewhere. And suddenly the differences between the men couldn't have felt more obvious. He was torn between facing the public eye and having a hot cup of caffeine with a man he enjoyed talking to. But the more he thought about it, letting the fluttering of his chest continue, the more the whole thing made him smile.

"See ya there then." He grinned hesitantly, watching as Spy nodded in return and vanished with a glittering of transparent blue.

He listened to the footsteps creep carefully down the stairs and when they grew distant his shoulders fell with a heavy sigh. Vapor clouded thickly from his lips and vanished slowly in the air. His heart felt like it wanted to slide up from his throat. Fists relaxing, he noted how sweaty his hands felt and shook his head.

He felt like a heavy sack of organs, but he couldn't stop smiling.

[the-silentium]

Rock Bottom

Masterlist - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 4150 words

Warnings: Blood, gore, monsters, killing, ANGST, cruel world in action.

A/N: I just reached 500 followers?! This is crazy! I love you all people who somehow put up with my insanity  ♥️

Taglist:  @haloangel391​ / @lightning-wolffe​ / @cherrydemon5​ / @and-claudia​ / @clone-rambles​

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The vice grips around your upper arms burned as the talons cut through the fabric and tore through the skin. The humanoid creature hissed in pain when your bodies switched position and he got the worst of the branches. Soon, you found yourself falling on top of the Algax, out of breath and in pain. 

It quickly rolled over, throwing you to the ground right under itself. You heard yells and saw lights illuminating your surroundings, but more importantly, you saw the eyeless, noseless face mere centimeters from your face, the hideous lining that you thought was its mouth looked burned and sewn shut as if to prevent it from feeding on its prey. 

You would have been relieved of the fact if the pain in your arms hadn't moved to your whole torso. He was crushing you to death! 

Out of your daze, you trashed around, feet kicking what would be its chest, attempting to push it away. Screeches erupted from tiny slits at the side of its hectically rotating head, the Algax abruptly jerked away from the ground, your body still in its grip. It started moving away from the clones, unbothered by the blaster bolts hitting its back successively or by your movements. 

Orders were barked in your ear but they didn't register. All you could acknowledge was the building pressure around your bones, how it was becoming almost impossible to breathe even the tiniest of breath. You were positive that your ribs would start to break at any second now. 

The primal part of your brain then took over, reaching for your knife and plunging it forward in the dark blue arm holding you above ground. 

The effect was instantaneous. You were thrown like a rag doll to the side, right into a trunk. The thud of your head hitting the wood resonated through your skull, stilling you. Your whole body seemed to completely stop functioning for a whole second before remembering that this wasn't the time to chill out. 

A moan nearly escaped your mouth as the first satisfying breath of the last minute filled your lungs. How could you never realize that breathing felt so right? Breathing felt so good. So much better than being squished like a miserable insect. Oh no. Was this how they felt every time you'd step on them? This was so crue-

"Are you okay?" Confused, you blinked at Tech's question. 

"Me?" You pointed to yourself as if the question wasn't clear enough. 

Then the pain in your arms registered and-

"Holy mother fucker that hurts!" You whined, experimentally poking the bleeding skin to see if this really was the source of the pain. 

"Don't touch it!" Tech chastised, slapping your hand away, to which you glared in return. 

"I'll die of a blood disease." You pouted, watching as your wound touched the disgusting bloody mix you spread on your clothes earlier. 

"Highly possible." You felt the color leaving your face. Maybe you said it, but you didn't want it! 

"But we won't let that happen." You jumped at the gauze tightening around your wound unexpectedly, your opposed hand almost shooting out to hit him instinctively. 

"That was an Algax, correct?" Hunter approached behind Tech, keeping an eye on the surroundings while the engineer fixed your other arm. 

"Spot on. He ran away, right?" The dark blue monster was nowhere to be seen, not that it bothered you. 

"Right after you stabbed him." He handed you your knife that you apparently dropped at some point. "Look like those things are blaster proof or something." 

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that there's no blaster in the lore." You gladly took the life-saving weapon back, securing its handle in your grip where it belonged. 

"Does your head hurt?" Tech inquired, getting up when he was satisfied with the makeshift bandages. 

"Nope. All good." It was pounding in there, but whatever. 

Getting back on your feet with Tech's help, you took a second to stabilize yourself before giving a heart attack to the nerd. 

"Don't do that!" He yelped, catching everyone's attention on your stretching self. 

"I'm just stretching..." 

"You just hurt your back! Don't flex your spine like that!" He successfully got you back straight with a slap to your abdomen. 

"We have to leave." Crosshair cut you off, pushing between the both of you to get ahead. 

"I agree with Cross. No more fuss." You speed-walked to catch up to the abrasive clone, desperately trying to keep the laugh in at the rhyme. 

"Thanks for that." You whispered to him, eyes already moving from shadow to shadow. 

"Don't thank me. If you stretch again I'll make your life more miserable than it already is." Oh how this only made you want to stretch to push his buttons. 

"Can't make it miserable if that means you'll be around." You grinned, unabashed by the meaning of your words. It was time for him to warm up to you a little more.

Every second of silence made you cheer inside. Rending the snarky sniper speechless was an exploit after all. 

"I can figure something out." He countered weakly after a while. 

Chuckling, you rotated the handle of your knife between your skilled fingers, alternating it from pointing forward and backward to pass your sudden regain of energy. Why did he have such an effect on you? It still was a mystery that you'd have to elucidate later. 

"I hear a voice." Hunter informed the group. 

"Is it calling you?" This was never a good sign, the Venuste were really effective critters in their task of enchanting everyone around. Keeping him with you and away from them would necessitate Wrecker's muscles. 

"No, it's a kid's voice. Whining about flee- fleeing? Something like that. It's not clear." 

"A kid?" You stopped dead, deeply confused. Had the council gone mad?! What could possibly justify sending kids out to their death? Or did they get caught outside like you did? "Where?" 

"Sure it's not a trap?" He pointed over your shoulder to your right. 

"One way to be sure." It genuinely hurt to stay in position and not speed walk through the trees to verify if the council had gone from a bunch of imbeciles to a cohort of assholes running the whole village to their doom. 

You had to remind yourself that when you agreed to join the commandos, you'd made a promise to fight for them as well as with them and that you'd be a reliable asset at any time in any given situation. You weren't alone anymore. 

It didn't change the fact that it was hard. 

"It's personal?" Crosshair clearly saw the shift in your mood, from the tightness in your muscles that wasn't there before to the sudden lack of motion of your armed hand. 

"I just want to know if I'll break my hand again or not." 

"Break your hand?" 

The question passed over your head when you heard the young boy's voice. He wasn't from the village, you knew every kid there mainly because you liked to help them build traps for strangers to fall in and they liked your prank ideas. You didn't know how to tell Tech that you were the one to propose the phosphorescent bird poo mixed with loth wolf puke idea. Maybe it was better to take it to your grave.  

You halted at the edge of the clearing illuminated by the moon and its stars, eyes glued to the young boy walking in circle a couple of meters away, his bare feet bleeding profusely from the incessant walking he endured for who knew how long. Your heart squeezed at his fate. No one deserved this kind of torture, let alone an innocent child. 

Your eyes adjusted to the new light, a new serene pallet of color taking over the gradually fading shades of blue and black. 

The boy's clothes were torn up and dirty to a point where you couldn't say for sure what color it was initially or if there was a design on it like most children liked to wear nowadays. 

"What's wrong with him?" Wrecker's worry hit you in the gut. You shouldn't have to tell him this because this shouldn't exist. 

"He's a Wanderer, now. A Lumsin got his soul." You slumped, defeated. 

"His soul?" He tilted his head and although you couldn't see it, you were sure there was a frown hidden under the customized helmet. 

"Yes. Everyone has a soul and Lumsins feed on them. When they eat a soul, the body becomes lost and wander around, walking and walking until it dies." 

"His soul got eaten." He reiterated in a whisper, the hand lifting to his head not lost on you.

"Y-" Your heartbeat shot through the roof when your eyes found a crest necklace around the kid's neck. 

You knew that crest all too well. And those beautiful red hairs, they should have made you realize sooner. Way sooner. 

"I know him." It unconsciously escaped your lips before you leaped forward, not able to repress your urges anymore. 

Crosshair was hot on your tail, the others staying in the shadows to keep an eye out. 

You jumped before the boy, hands rising to his cold cheeks, wishing that the gesture would pull him out of his spell. He merely rammed into you with his small 6 years old emaciated body, barely making you budge. 

He continuously mumbled the same sentence, the last thought his body heard from his soul before the contact was lost. 

"I want Fleena."

"Nixon, buddy." You grazed the freckles on his cheeks with your thumbs. He was so familiar. 

You'd never met him when he was still a lively boy, their village wasn't one to be in close contact with the others, but you've seen extremely detailed drawings of him. Plus, he looked so much like his sister. 

"We have to go." Crosshair pressed, anxious to be so out in the open. You knew you were being delusional and were basically putting him in danger for someone who couldn't be saved, but you had something to do. 

"I'll be quick." You assured the sniper before taking the robin carved necklace off Nixon's small neck to store it in your pants pocket. 

"Your sis' loves you very much, Nixon." You tenderly kissed his forehead like any child should be kissed, with utter softness and care. "And she wants you to be free." 

You could easily remember the nights out between the local cantina and the general store, where Fleena would show you drawings of the beasts that attacked her village when their gates got breached. You were terrified. Her whole village was wiped out in a single night, leaving her behind with a mind plagued with nightmares and grief. 

She talked often about Nixon who had turned 6 the week before it happened. She would relive her best moments with him, where laughs and smiles were a common occurrence. Then she'd close on herself, praying to the merciless gods above to at least let her brother be in peace. 

It broke your heart to know that it wasn't the case. That he was still trapped, may his soul be somewhere else, hopefully, in a better world, his body was still living in a wicked world. 

"You deserve to rest Nixon." You ruffled his hair like Fleena used to do. 

With a quick movement of your hands, you freed him from his torment in this cruel world. 

The world numbed for a moment, mind blocking the events for your own sanity, but it wasn't enough. It didn't stop all the injustice of this world. A vast beautiful world that you couldn't explore because of monsters waiting for the right moment to bounce. You were forced to live in a cage when the world was so vast. Kids were forced to grow up too fast or couldn't grow up at all. This world was sick. 

It took 2 hours for your stomach to empty itself on the ground for the first time of the night. In all honesty, it was longer than you initially expected. 

Oh. You didn't expect either to find yourself back into the woods, without any memory of making the way back. Hands alternate from patting your back to stroking up and down between your scapulas. 

Someone's tears fell onto the bile, or maybe it was raining. Yes, it was raining. You felt the water stream down your cheeks like rivers, the two trails joining at your chin to fall on the ground. 

"You freed him." Crosshair crouched to your level so you'd not tune him out like you did the others. "You helped him." 

"I helped him." You repeated. It was true. 

"You did." A finger moved across your cheek to remove the remaining rain from your face. No. They were tears. Your tears of pain. 

"I hate to force this on you, but we have to get back to the rav-" 

A scream of distress pierced the night, cutting off the sergeant in the worst way possible. Everyone froze, listening to the yells asking for help that only you understood. Another hunter. He wasn't that far away. 

"He's asking for help." You mumbled slowly coming out of your daze. 

Your eyes moved away from the bile splattered before your knees to meet the black and white helmet of your sergeant. You were in no position to decide, the fog in your mind only beginning to dissipate gradually. 

"We can't help." The requests for assistance had already morphed into screams of pain and agony that they didn't need to be translated to understand. 

"We hurry back and get off this rock." He cut short, the yells fading quickly in intensity. 

Hands under your armpits helped you up. Shaky legs stilled after a couple of seconds and a few deep breaths. Slowly as if you'd double over at any second, Wrecker's huge hands let go of their grip on you. With a muttered thanks you harshly wiped your face with your hands to get yourself together. 

You needed to bottle up every event happening tonight for later. You'd have time to scream, thrash around and cry when you'd be safe within the Havoc Marauder. 

"Ready." You affirmed after swallowing the lump in your throat. 

The night was silent again, meaning that the beast could either be feasting or roaming around again. The group will have to be extra careful to return to the ravine and stay under the radar. Many species could have caused this kind of screams and they weren't to be messed with. 

Hunter took the front while you took his place in the middle, just behind him. Crosshair grazed your right arm, Tech your left and Wrecker got your back. 

You purposefully ignored the worried glances coming from Tech, it surely must have been a shock to see you do what you did in the clearing. It was so out of nowhere for them. But it wasn't for you. A big part of your brain simply wished they would not abandon you on the planet once you all make it back to the ship. 

This time, you were the first one to notice the change in the atmosphere. What was interpreted by Hunter as the wind humming through the trees was in fact a very angry Kribat protecting its territory. 

"Hide!" You whispered harshly in the comlink you hurriedly pulled out of your pocket. There was no way they'd see your hand sign at your current position. 

It was so sudden that they stopped for a millisecond, unsure of where to hide. You pushed through them to lead the way to a deeper line of trees on your left, feet moving faster to get more distance between the Kribat and your group. 

Your feet slipped under yourself when you ducked behind a particularly large tree. Despite your best efforts to stay upright, gravity pulled you down to your fall, as it clearly enjoyed to do, both physically and mentally. 

The ground wasn't as hard as you remembered, a bit soft if you were to define it, and warmer. 

It wasn't until Wrecker pulled you upright once again that you realized that your fall had been broken by a shredded body. Dread washed over you as you saw the two other hunters who'd suffered the same fate, laying close by in a pool of their blood, missing some limbs. 

You knew them. They never had a place in your heart, but you knew them nonetheless and would never have wished them to suffer like they did. You knew two of them had families waiting at home. Well. Maybe they weren't waiting, merely hoping that they would come back by some miracle. 

Two feet away from a Kribat's preys was the worst place to be right now, but you couldn't move to another spot. Not with the howling Kribat right behind yours and Wrecker's hiding spot. 

It was awfully close. Too close to your liking and way too angry to hope to survive its attacks if it were to find you. 

Wrecker had you pressed to his chest by a hand right over your breast, detail that flashed into your mind although it was totally irrelevant. He was just stressed like you were. His hands simply reached for you in his haste and happened to find the friends-are-not-supposed-to-touch spot so you dropped it. At least he wasn't groping. 

The ragged breathing of the feral beast passed as it reacted to a movement nearby, giving chase to the unfortunate creature. For a painful second, you thought that it might be one of your teammates, Tech and Hunter were out of view while Crosshair was peeking back to get a glimpse of the retreating beast. 

Just as you tried to push away to see if the missing clones were around, Wrecker's hand pushed you more into himself, crushing your boobs like they were never crushed before. 

"Everyone's okay." He informed you to keep you still, not releasing his grip. You hummed in acknowledgment. 

"Wrecker." He hummed back, waiting for you to continue. "Hands off my boobs." 

You've never seen a hand fly away as quickly as Wrecker's did. Yours didn't even move that fast when you accidentally put your hand on a lump of red coal and you remember having a good reflex then. 

"Hands off what?" A harsh whisper in your right ear caused the demolition expert to sputter. 

Apparently, the comlink in his helmet caught your voice. 

"I didn't know Sarge!" He explained without any more delay. "Sorry Y/N." 

He kept his free hand far from your body now that the danger has passed. It would have been hilarious if only you weren't at the lowest emotionally. 

" 's fine Wrecker." You shrugged, unbothered by all of it and way too exhausted emotionally to care. It was an accident in the midst of action, nothing more, no need to create a whole drama because of it. 

A piece of wood in the bloody mess caught your gaze. Your heart skipped a beat at the recognizable darker tint of the object, tonight was getting slightly better. 

Crouching, you reached for the thick wood stick, fingers moving along the carvings etched into its length. Both in relief and satisfaction, you found the energy in yourself to smile. 

"Found something?" Tech approached from your side, the remaining missing soldier in tow. 

"Yeah. Most useful stealth weapon on this planet." You showed him the bloody bow, your other hand sliding your knife into its rightful place in your boot. 

Rolling the body to the side respectfully, you checked for the quiver that you found still strapped to his back. Slowly, you pulled it over his head to pass it over yours.

"This is a fine piece of work." Despite his words, you could hear that he clearly would never use it to defend himself if he had the choice.

Taking back the weapon, you cleaned the grip and loaded an arrow, muscle memory doing a splendid job into positioning yourself perfectly in a flawless shooting stance. A sigh of relief almost escaped your lips at the feeling of finally being adequately armed. 

"Think it will hurt them more than our blasters?" Crosshair gave you some extra arrows he found laying around, still unconvinced that wood sticks with metal points could surpass their own advanced technology. 

"We'll know it now." 

You frowned, quickly grabbing an arrow to arm the bow, pulled on the string while aiming over the engineer's shoulder and suddenly released the tension on the string, scaring the shit out of Tech but hitting your target perfectly. 

The Algax screeched as the arrow hit it right where its left eye would be, retracting its dangerous talons reaching for the goggled clone to grab at its face. 

The troopers jumped at the unexpected screech, although they recovered in record time, turning around, blasters at the ready. They only had time to shoot at its already retreating form. 

"Don't lose that." Hunter turned around, pointing at the bow in your hands. "Now let's go." He urged everyone forward. 

Quickly, you grabbed the arrows in Crosshair's hand and stored them with the others. 

As you took your position back at the front, a hand softly grazed the small of your back, by possessiveness or just to ensure that you were alright, you weren't entirely sure. But Hunter's gesture was very much welcome. 

The bow was a game-changer. The weapon may not be able to kill them, but it could very easily gain you some time when needed. 

Now, if luck could still stick by your sides, the next useful thing you'd find was a shelter. 

In the following hour, you managed to scare away the next 3 Algax you encountered with a single arrow neatly shot between the hollows where their eyes should be and avoided another Kribat. 

Apparently, these two species were the main population of these parts of the jungle, it was a two-edged knife. The boys got used to hiding around the environment and knew how to react properly at an Algax jumping on them out of nowhere, but you knew those weren't the only danger around. Would they react adequately when a new monster presented itself?

Tech changed his opinion on your weapon, affirming that he'll have to build one himself, more technological of course, improved like he said. You kicked his shin at the 'less-primitive' insinuation behind his words.  

"It's a great weapon that deserves respect Tech." You reprimanded, arrow pointing to the ground and ready to engage if needed. 

"It does need improvements!" He countered on the defensive and he proceeded to explain what he would do to add more strength to the bow, allowing it to shoot further and at a greater impact. 

Just as Hunter shushed the engineer, you heard your name being whispered in the distance. Fear tensed your muscles in apprehension, expecting claws to tear at your skin any second now. Time went on without any foes jumping out of the shadows, prompting you to continue your route with the others, passing it for the wind or a trick of your mind.

That is until everything went downhill. 

"Do you guys hear that?" Wrecker suddenly asked, immediately catching everyone's attention. 

Silence followed, seconds after seconds passed in utter silence until, "That! Heard that?" 

"No." Hunter stopped the group to ensure that they weren't missing something important. 

"Wrecker, what is it? What do you hear?" A cold sweat ran down your spine, already knowing what he was going to say but praying otherwise. This couldn't be happening. 

"It's 99." Even without knowing who was 99, you knew that it would end badly, there was too much raw worry in his voice to calm him down in so little time. "He's in danger Sarge!" 

"No! Don't listen to it!" You jumped out to grab his armor, his hand, his blaster, anything really, not that your small muscles would have been able to stop the bear of a man anyway but your body thought it could. 

He was unexpectedly fast for someone his size, easily dodging your hand to push through his brothers like they were nothing. He ran like a desperate man chasing a dream and it hit you like a punch to the face. This was exactly it. His most desperate dream finally came true to haunt him. 

As you expected, the boys were on his tail in a heartbeat. 

But as you ran after them, you realized that for a team comm that should be flooding in orders for Wrecker to stop and pleas for him to understand that this was a trick, it was dreadfully quiet. 

Your blood froze in your veins as soon as realization dawned on you like a an ice cold bath. 

They all believed it.

[hermanwatts]

Science Fiction and Fantasy New Releases: 27 June, 2020

Crafter’s dungeons, post-apocalyptic water worlds, MMO blacksmiths, and even a three-headed ogre appear in this week’s science fiction and fantasy new releases.

Aquaria Falling (Aquaria #1) – Finn Gray

Centuries ago, the Memnon War devastated Aquaria. The defeated Memnons fled the Aquarian system in search of a new home. Or did they?

Blamed for the death of his sister, Rory Waring escapes the farm by enlisting in the Aquarian Imperial Marines, but life as a marine recruit is not what he expected. The ranks are divided, with rumors of secret traitors among their number. Who can he trust when his life is on the line?

As granddaughter of the emperor, Lina Navarre has not had a difficult life. Her sole responsibility is keeping her twin sister far from trouble and out of the news vids until an act of terrorism changes her life forever. Suddenly, Lina finds herself in the enemy’s crosshairs. But which side is her sister on?

Commander Dominic Graves can hardly remember the last time he led Dragonfly into combat. Now his days are spent reviewing reports and his brilliant but erratic ace pilot, Serena “Sabre” Sabrakami, out of the brig. But when mutiny breaks out across the fleet, both will find their lives on the line, and the fate of Aquaria in their hands.

The Memnons have returned and Aquaria is falling!

The Bar at the Edge of the Sea (The Watchers #2) – Tom Abrahams

A world underwater. A missing weapon. A fight for redemption.

Zeke Watson has his first mission as a Watcher: a quest to find a kidnapped child who knows the location of a missing weapon. In the wrong hands, the weapon will upset the balance of good and evil across the known universe.

He seeks the child. The weapon. And redemption.

But can he find any of that in a flooded post-apocalyptic world filled with ruthless pirates—where his skills behind the wheel are useless and his newfound power is as unsteady as a skiff on choppy seas?

The Black Knight (The Excalibur Knights Saga #2) – Luke Mitchell

He came. He saw. He stole the freakin’ Merlin.

In the wake of the troglodan attack on Earth, fledgling Knight Nate Arturi and his unruly crew venture into Alliance space in pursuit of the mysterious Black Knight. The mission couldn’t be more simple. Find the Black Knight, recover the Beacon, and save the Merlin.

But simple isn’t always easy, and the title of Excalibur Knight isn’t what it once was.

Arriving in Alliance space, Nate and fellow Knight Iveera quickly find themselves caught in a deadly web of political ambition with ooperian assassins haunting their every step and no one to trust but each other and their rag tag crew.

The clock is ticking. An ancient evil stands on the brink of awakening. But to complete their mission, they’ll have to go renegade and forfeit everything.

Can two rogue Knights stop the rising tides of galactic war?

The Crafter’s Darkness (Dungeon Crafting #4) – Jonathan Brooks

A time of great darkness is approaching, but will Sandra and her dungeon survive?

After being responsible for destroying multiple Dungeon Cores, the consequences of which she has yet to see but knows will be coming, Sandra and her friends must obtain help from the leadership of the nearby lands. The problem will soon become bigger than she can contain, and only by them all working together will everyone survive the dangers represented by the nearby dungeons.

On top of that, Sandra also has to develop a plan to combat the ever-expanding territories of the local dungeons and protect the people still living in her Area of Influence. It is a difficult and complicated problem to solve, but with the aid of some new friends she begins to get a handle on the situation.

Unknown to Sandra and everyone else, however, someone wronged by the craft-loving Dungeon Core has designs of their own that will throw the wastelands into chaos. Those dangers, coupled with some personal issues of Sandra’s own, could usher in a period of darkness that the world hasn’t seen in centuries…

Danger Close (Drop Trooper #3) – Rick Partlow

All Cam Alvarez has known is war.

For three years, he’s fought the marauding alien Tahni on one God-forsaken planet after another, leading a squad of armored Drop Troopers.

But the war is about to change.

Cam is an officer now, fresh out of OCS and taking charge of his old platoon, and things have reached a tipping point. Instead of fighting a desperate holding action against the enemy, the Commonwealth is finally ready to take back the human colonies the Tahni seized early in the war. To free the people the enemy have kept as human shields.

However, victory comes at a price. Both for the hostage colonists and the Marines who fight to free them. When innocent lives are at stake, every shot fired is danger close…

Og-Grim-Dog: The Three-Headed Ogre (Me Three #1) – Jamie Edmundson

We are Og-Grim-Dog!

We have been loved and reviled! We have been the Hero of the Hour, the Darkest Villain, and everything in between! We have saved this world and travelled to worlds beyond it!

You think you can distil the life of Og-Grim-Dog into some words on a page?

When a stranger visits their inn, the regulars are in for a surprise. Did their Landlord really come here from Gal’azu—the dangerous, edgier province to the east? Could it be that his stories, so fanciful and fantastical, were episodes from his previous life?

When their Landlord is persuaded to have his life story recorded for posterity, the surprises come thick and fast. Just like his regulars, you too can learn how a three-headed ogre came to be a hero. Unlike them, you don’t stand to be killed if it all goes wrong…

Reckoning (Universe in Flames #13) – Christian Kallias

The race to stop the spectres has begun. 

Chase and the Alliance assemble the largest fleet in history to prevent the Spectres from invading their dimension.

Meanwhile, in the unknown regions, a team assembles to travel through the newly discovered Atlantian portal system to find new technologies and dwindling resources like pentalium.

As Asrak’Vor and Ashra’Lur unite to inflict a deadly blow to the heart of the Alliance, Chase and his family are thrown into the eye of the storm.

Can Chase and his allies repel an interdimensional invasion that threatens all life in the galaxy? And at what cost?

True Smithing – Jared Mandani

Angus Bjornson only ever wanted to do one thing: to continue crafting exquisite weapons and pieces of armor for his loyal customers. Unfortunately, after one accident too many that leaves the old blacksmith completely disabled, it would seem he has no other choice but to hang up his hammer.

However, that would be underestimating the stubbornness of the self-made man. Fearing he’s not going to stop until he ends up dead in his forge, Angus’ children offer him a virtual rig that connects to Imperium Games’ many universes.

After choosing a fantasy-based world called Alterwelt, Angus—now known as Hephaestus—quickly learns that he can make use of his lifetime of experience by disabling the Auto function and playing on Manual. His skills allow him to create unique items that beat everything sold on the market. But Hephaestus has a long way to go before he can afford his own in-game forge. Moreover, he only ever learned to work with steel while here he has access to metals as strange and exotic as azuraneum, veridium, orichalcum…

Still, that might be the least of his problems. After he’s made a few sales and starts to get some recognition, Hephaestus realizes that there’s a reason the market is oversaturated with crappy items. As it turns out, a greedy guild enforces a monopoly on the crafting and they’re ready to do anything to keep anyone—lest of all a lone blacksmith—from digging into their profits…

Science Fiction and Fantasy New Releases: 27 June, 2020 published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/

[limey-blue-arty-do]

When Life Gives You Limes - Chpt 4

Summary: The writer has to survive in the Star Wars: Rebels universe without breaking the plot or the Ghost crew’s patience. Turns out it’s easier harder oh god so much harder than it sounds.

Word Count: 2272

Engines humming, the Ghost drifted down to a wide patch of dirt, a beaten down path leading away to a humdrum drab of a village. Tarkin-town, visible in the distance as the ramp for the Ghost’s cargo bay dropped open into hot midday (?) air.

“Pull your weight, grab a crate”, I mumbled under my breath as I joined Sabine and Ezra in taking the supply crates that I dimly recognised from being taken from the Star Destroyer. If the two heard my remark, they didn’t mention it, simply got about their business in pushing the crates toward the village.

As I followed behind them, Zeb clapped a hand on my shoulder.

“Come with me”, he said, nudging me in a different direction.

We walked down between the corrugated metal huts, and people, human, Rodian, Sullustan, and others whose names I couldn’t recall, came out to meet us. Passing down the sham-street, Zeb would be greeted with smiles and he’d either tell them that supplies were in the main square, or he’d hand out a small package from a bag at his side to those that were slumped on the ground. Food, I supposed, for those that couldn’t collect it from Ezra and Sabine.

The number of those who Zeb gave supplies to began to increase the further we traversed the pathways within Tarkin-town. Arriving outside a larger hut, a curtain with a crude white circle painted on draped across the front, Zeb knocked on one of the hut’s supports. A small Ithorian woman pushed the curtain aside, and her eyes visibly lit up when she spotted the crate.

“Delivery, ma’am”, Zeb said, opening up the crate and revealing dozens of boxes and packages, all with the Imperial crest stamped on them and a medical green colour.

Oh.

As Zeb and I helped the Ithorian woman unload all the supplies, we entered the hut and I spotted a pair of humans, another Ithorian and a Rodian laid out on cots, with who I assumed were their relatives or significant others sat beside them. Zeb directed me in where to put various packages, even as the Ithorian began to unwrap them and hand out medication to her patients.

“I see why you guys went after that Star Destroyer now”, I said quietly to Zeb.

“Cold season coming up on the plains”, Zeb grunted. “In places like here, it can be deadly. Hera caught wind of transmissions talking about moving medical supplies and we hadda grab some. Otherwise the kids and old folks out here will freeze or choke or just slowly die.”

We took the empty crate with us – although patrols were rare out here apparently, it was better safe than sorry. It’d be used on the Ghost for storage, or it’d be ditched in a back alley in one of Lothal’s many towns, according to Zeb.

Something about being in the hospital hut had made something click in my head, something horribly heavy and tragic and real. I trudged along beside Zeb, looking back over my shoulder at the hut, heavy weights in my stomach and thick air stuck in my throat. As Zeb glanced back to me, brows furrowed and mouth open to say something, his expression abruptly shifted from annoyance to confusion.

“You crying, kiddo?”, he asked. I blinked, and watched my vision blur, a couple of tears sliding down my cheeks. Slowly, the sensation in my throat began to tighten. Hugging my arms, I felt a cold numbness settle in my stomach and my eyes water over.

A hand squeezed my shoulder.

“I’m guessing this is the first time you’ve been to a place like here”, Zeb said softly. Having heard the Lasat only speak in gruff tones up until now, the gentle nature of his words took me by surprise. Rubbing my nose with my sleeve, I nodded slowly.

“I’ve known things were bad, under the Empire”, I spoke slowly. “I just couldn’t do anything about it. But now I can, I can help.” Another sniff, another wipe across my face. “I want to help them. I don’t want innocent people to be suffering like this.”

“Don’t we all”, Zeb muttered, before tapping my back lightly. “C’mon, if you wanna help more we might as well get started. There’s a few hours yet before the light goes.”

- 

Back at the Ghost, I could see Hera and Chopper on the wings of the ship, a panel lifted up and Hera working away beneath it. Chopper held a box of tools beside her, beeping quietly in varied tones of complaint.

Whilst I waited at the ramp of the Ghost, Zeb headed in and rummaged around in a locker, returning with an Imperial blaster.

“Nabbed a couple of E-11’s from a patrol a couple cycles ago. Figured Sabine could use the parts in one of her projects”, he explained, handing it over to me. “It’ll do well enough for practise, I figure.”

The gun was heavy, like hauling around a couple of hefty books. With much more weight than an air-rifle, it was all chunky and thick. Shifting it about in my hands, I held it up, looking through the scope.

“Watch it kiddo. Don’t go jumping right into it”, Zeb said hurriedly, nudging the muzzle of the blaster toward the ground. “Let’s not accidentally set something off or break anything.”

“Right, got it”, I said. No accidentally shooting people or the ship.

“So, before we shoot anything, we gotta check the blaster’s in condition to fire”, Zeb explained, holding up the blaster so it lay across one of his hands and both of mine. “Safety, ammo, and making sure the muzzle ain’t cracked.

“Safety is fairly easy. This is for Stormtroopers after all, trigger-happy folk who don’t need to think too hard or aim.” A wide smirk spread across his face, and I joined in his amusement with a smile of my own. “You thumb down this ‘ere button behind the muzzle, and then you’re ready to go.” I nodded, but didn’t turn the safety off straight away.

“So, uh, why were you worried I was going to shoot anything when you gave this to me?”

“Because if you do try to shoot something with safety off, you get a nasty rebound that could break your arm in two”, Zeb explained bluntly. Ah, that would explain it.

“Ammo. You get five-hundred plasma shots for each cartridge. There’s already one slapped in there, so you got that sorted”, Zeb pointed out the cartridge in the side of the blaster. “Then there’s routine check of the muzzle. If you got cracks in the muzzle, the discharge will go off in your face and you can say bye-bye to your eyebrows. And most of your face, really.”

“Terrific”, I said flatly, starting to hold the blaster further away from my head. Zeb let out a full guffaw.

“This is just the stuff to make sure your blaster’s good for shooting the enemy. The whole muzzle exploding is a worst-case scenario. But your face-” He broke off to laugh again. “-oh, your face was amazing.”

My lips tightened, turning into a flat scowl, and I glared up at Zeb.

“Are you done?”

“Sure, sure. No need to get snippy.”

Zeb crouched down next to me, pulling his Bo-rifle from his back and sighting down it.

“You’ve got the basics, now try firing at those rocks over there”, he said. I followed his sightline, spotting a clump of rock structures a good few metres away from the Ghost.

Hefting the gun up, I aimed toward the rocks, picking out the widest one – width provided a larger target. Thumbing down the safety, I closed an eye and looked down the scope on the gun.

Caught in the crosshairs.

PEW

The recoil bounced into my arm, lighter than I’d expected. But then again, I was firing plasma instead of bullets.

“Well that was awful”, Zeb muttered.

“How come? I hit the rock, didn’t I?” Had I? I glanced over at the rocks again. They hadn’t been touched. However, there was now a blackened patch of grass a foot away from the rocks.

“You gotta keep your aim up”, Zeb told me, holding up his Bo-rifle and aiming as well. “Don’t let your arms drop, or else your shot will end up lower than you want it to be.”

KRCHAW

With a yellow crackle and the stink of ozone, the Bo-rifle let out a blast of it’s own, cracking one of the rocks and letting splinters fall free.

“Your turn again, kiddo.”

Gulping back a nervous lump, I hefted the gun up again.

PEW

Another black patch was scorched in the ground. Zeb let out a tired huff, and aimed his Bo-rifle.

KRCHAW

The previous rock now cracked into pieces completely.

PEW

More scorched ground.

KRCHAW

Another rock bit the dust.

Around and around this cycle went until any nervousness had drained out of me and been replaced with pure irritation, until I eventually raised the gun up high despite my shoulders screaming at me and fired one, then two, then three plasma bolts in one of the rocks.

Zeb looked over my handiwork, and folded away his rifle.

“One thing’s for sure kiddo”, he said, and I glanced up at him. There was a wrinkled smile on his face, a ‘Zeb’ smile. “You’d make an awful Jedi. But you might make a decent shot, with enough work of course.”

Clapping a hand on my back (and consequently making me stagger), he took the E-11 off me and nudged me in the direction of the Ghost. By this point, a pair of moons were beginning to make their ascent from the horizon, despite the sky being still tinged in various shades of red and orange. My stomach was also beginning to make significant rumbling sensations as we walked up the ramp into the ship.

“Come on, ”, Zeb said, placing the rifle into a slit-cupboard within the wall and sliding it shut. “I’m feeling like some grub is well deserved.”

“I second that”, I said, pressing a hand in an attempt to muffle the hungry rumblings of my digestive system.

“Excellent. You can help out with dinner then.”

“Beg pardon?”

Too slow to argue, I followed along behind Zeb through the Ghost’s corridors. Almost hidden in a side-corridor by the communal room, we stepped into the kitchen – pretty much a small square room where items were more stacked than spread out, half of the room taken up by a bench table. Zeb began to rummage through cupboards, sliding doors open and pulling out two round vegetables (?) along with a bag of what looked like rice.

“You chop the onions, I’ll cook up the gruel”, Zeb told me, a pan appearing from another cupboard.

“Gruel?”

“Doesn’t sound appealing?” The tone in Zeb’s voice was one of either insult or surprise. “One thing you’ll learn on this ship is my cooking is the best. That and you don’t let Sabine near the hub.”

I felt like I shouldn’t question that, and focused my attention on the onions. They smelt like onions at least (without the ‘oh god my eyes’ itch), and had the layers of Earth onions (the colours of which were purple-leaning-blue down to pastel plum). At least student living had prepared me for this part of space life. I chopped and peeled my way through the two onions, whilst Zeb worked on the gruel. Granted, I expected to see gruel from films – bland bowls of grey, maybe with solid granules floating in the mixture. What Zeb was cooking looked more like thin rice pudding and smelt heavily of chicken stock. Onions were dropped in when what little liquid was in the pan started bubbling, and the smell only got better.

“Smells pretty good there, big guy.” Sabine had poked her head through the kitchen door, and she gave me a thumbs-up. Hera meanwhile gently nudged her way past the Mandalorian and into the kitchen proper, collecting a couple mugs from cupboards opposite the cooking station.

“I’m going to put on some caff. Anyone want some, speak now or hold your peace”, she said.

“Two for the cooks”, Zeb replied, giving my shoulder a push. I was muted in surprise from both the offer and Zeb taking it up in my stead, but managed to nod in agreement.

Soon enough, the smell of the onion-gruel mixture was joined by the smell of something strong and sweet, as Hera turned on a coffee-maker-esque machine and from it poured out four mugs of thick reddish-brown liquid. Two mugs she left in the kitchen, the other two she carried back out.

“Food looks ready. Bowls are up top there”, Zeb told me, pointing to the required cupboard. One, two, five, six bowls I brought down (it was surprising and possibly odd that there were enough) and each were filled with a scoop of food. Ezra dropped by to help carry the meals through.

There was scattered conversation about the day. Most of it seemed to glance over my head, and there were a few sentences that were started and then broken off with a short look in my direction before going off onto a different topic. The mug of caff was surprisingly rich – the sweet taste similar to red bean soup mixed with the bitterness of coffee. It kept me awake long into the evening, until I was propped up in my bunk with Sabine asleep overhead.

Sleep didn’t come so easily to me, with or without caff.