#well this got away from me lol

[dutyworn]

name: Havu

pronouns: they/them (I'd prefer ey/em but I don't have the energy to start fighting people about using neopronouns when it's hard enough to get them to use they/them and that... works)

preference of communication: Discord. The tumblr IM box is very difficult for me to focus on, and while I will use it with people who prefer it, I am unlikely to venture into very long messages there.

your most active muse: Shepard, right now, honestly

experience/how long (months, years?): Over 15 years in different platforms, since spring 2013 on tumblr. I started roleplaying on tumblr with a Doctor Who OC (whom I still write on my multi - she has a Mass Effect verse in the making, wink wonk), and mainly wrote the Eleventh Doctor (under legsyes and later snogboxed) for about five years and some other canons and OCs, took a bad mental health year lurking, came back on Castiel (waywardfeathered) mid 2018, dappled into more OCs and canon muses, made a multi (smokedanced), retired Eleven and started writing Thirteen (dochaes)... I run four blogs now (Cas/Thirteen/Wren/multi)

platforms used: Only tumblr; I occassionally write on Discord with Orion and Lexi, because they're both very close to me and get special privileges, but I am not open to writing on Discord with people in general. It doesn't work with my executive dysfunction. Creativity is difficult, and tumblr works for me as well as it does because I can spend a lot of time formatting and making icons, doing the mechanical, easy part of the framework to spark the executives to function with the hard, creative part as well. I simply don't have the tools to consistently write with everyone on Discord.

best experience: No single best one, but every time I develop fully fleshed out dynamics/storylines between someone's muses and mine. It's the best roleplay feeling when your muses just... have a dynamic that just kind of takes life of its own?

rp pet peeves/dealbreakers: I have my dealbreakers listed on my rules. Fandom anti rhetoric being the most important (policing what kind of fiction other people should be allowed to enjoy/write, as in, setting your own boundaries is totally fair, but acting as if someone writing something you don't want to see were "wrong" or "gross" or whatever; callouts over fictional content no matter if I personally engage in that kind of content or not, judging people's morals based on their fictional preferences; equating depictions of bad things to acts of bad things - for example, writing a muse as a racist caricature is an ACT of racism, and I don't condone that at all, but writing an abusive relationship is a DEPICTION of abuse, not an act, and I do condone this fully, it is fiction - trying to coax/guilt-trip another mun into writing something with you when they've said no is an act of crossing boundaries and just bad behaviour and I don't condone that, but writing anything at all between consenting muns is imho fine and I don't tolerate demonising people for this), individual urls on DNIs (I consider this harrassment), making/sharing callouts outside of very specific, extreme cases (I am likely to let it slip if I see mutuals share a callout every now and then unless it's in the vein of "this person writes problematic fictional content", but I regard this on a case by case basis). Like... I'm not trying to police anyone, either. You're allowed to engage in any of these behavours. I won't try to make people take out their DNIs or callouts, at all. You're allowed to do that. I am, also, allowed to choose not to want you in my life due to that.

Pet peeves? I don't know, I have plenty, but it'd feel mean of me to start listing these. They're just annoyances and stuff I fully support people doing despite them annoying me.

fluff, angst, smut: All three, in the order of angst, smut, fluff.

plots or memes? Very very flexible. Total winging it works, intricate plotting works. My preference is some vague plotting, and exchanging ideas in however detailed they come to us while writing, but, I will totally wing it, and I will plot in detail, as well. I struggle more with... no ooc communication whatsoever or detailed plotting before any writing, but I will try and do it anyway for people who prefer those.

long or short replies? Again, flexible. I think it should be normalised that reply length within the same thread can be dynamic. Novella suits setting scene, timeskips, etc. while just a paragraph might suit action or heavy dialogue, to give a chance for the other muse to respond. I generally prefer around 2-4 paragraphs as a baseline.

best time to write?: Whenever I manage to push myself to do it. Context: I have to push myself to do everything, even the things I wanna do, because executive dysfunction. No specific time of the day.

are you like your muse? Almost not in the slightest. Wren is very heart first, I am very head first (this does not mean she's not logical nor that I don't feel emotions but you get what- hopefully you get what I mean). Wren is very engaged emotionally in the world around her as that is just her natural way of being, where I am very detached and feel more like an observer of the world than an active participant. She is good at making decisions, taking action, getting shit done. I am absolute shit at all of the above. She would rather do, I would rather think. (She is a good strategist and very smart, but I mean in the sense of, she would rather think in terms of what has practical use, while I, althought I don't see myself as exceptionally smart, would rather think in terms of I just enjoy it for its own sake and have no interest in the practical application of the things I like to think about.) She's very, very empathetic, and has an easy time picking up on people's emotions, reading between the lines, etc. I almost completely lack emotional empathy (I don't, nearly ever, feel other people's feelings or feel distress at other people's distress; doesn't mean, again, that I'm uncaring, my empathy is just cerebral and simply thought more than emotion, like I can still wish to show compassion even if I don't feel anything about the matter) and can't read between the lines, don't understand hints, etc. Or if I do, it happens with logical analysis rather than intuition. Wren's really brave, I'm super cowardly. Wren's self-sacrificing, I'm self-preserving; she puts others first, I put myself first. She's extroverted and has an easy time being around people, I'm incredibly introverted and could not even live in the same household with other people. She goes into states of just needing to get something done, where logical analysis overrides emotionality but for her that's under extreme stress and almost dissociative, while for me the logical analysis mode is just my natural state and not unhealthy. If we have something in common, I think, perhaps it's that we both hate with a passion to let other people see us vulnerable. We might feel vulnerable under different circumstances, but for both of us it's very unnatural to lean onto other people and let them help in emotional distress. I think, the reasons for this are similar for us? Wren grew up literally an orphan, homeless on the streets since age 10, she's never had a reliable adult figure in her life as a kid. I was tossed into the foster care system and institutionalised around age 13, and did not have safe and/or reliable/emotionally supportive adults around me since that age, either. We both learned from a young age that no one would take care of our emotional needs unless we took care of our own emotional needs. Accepting practical help is relatively fine for us both. Accepting emotional help is... alien. I don't think she recognises the cause of this for herself, fully. She has a habit of explaining it away with "these people are under my command, and a leader should not show weakness because if they can't rely on me how can I ask them to follow me", seeing as her closest friends tend to be also her crew. We both also utilise humour a lot? Even if in different ways.

tagged by: @wcsea, thanks!

tagging: @lovepurposed, @immortaljackal, @detectiveconnor, @diewithaname, @threecardtrick, @drdumaurier, or just commit thievery

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Theory: If Messmer is Marika’s sword (spear), Godwyn is her shield.

Yes I made another doomed Mother & Son presentation slide: eldest sons edition 🙏😔

EDIT 1: adding a bit to this, the theme music of Godwyn's Death Knight is a rearrangement of Erdtree Knight OST (aka Tree Sentinels theme)

(Messmer’s timeline) (discussion of Radagon’s shady behavior)

[sysig]

How much of me is me? (Patreon)

[yuwuta]

gojo would kill your work husband. but if he were the work husband, that's a different story

REAL!! he’s such a hypocrite because if someone mentioned you had a work husband, his entire world would stop and he wold devise the absolute worst plans to make sure that your co-worker, everyone at your job, and everyone in the next building over knew that he was happily committed to you 

but if he is the work husband, he’s very........ dutiful in his role. there’s a loose office/lawyer au in my head where satoru is your secretary, and for all intents and purposes, your personal assistant, and he’s good at his job, but mostly because he considers his job to be pleasing you. he has coffee for you when you arrive, he moves your schedule around without you asking, he has answers to questions before you can even ask them, he has fresh flowers on your desk weekly, pokes into your meetings to pretend to hand you a file that’s really just maybe a single document in a manilla folder with candy on top of it—he’s made himself your business, your partner; he’s made himself irreplaceable, and he loves to remind everybody of that fact. 

he’s also extremely loyal. sure, he could day a week’s worth of work done in about a day, but that doesn’t mean he’ll just use his talents for anybody. he’s your secretary, so he’s at your beck and call, and everyone knows it. they know he’s the best, but also that he’s off limits—not because you won’t share him, but because satoru won’t let himself be shared. 

he also extends his duties beyond work, of course. when he hands you a print out of your schedule for the day and you’re confused by the three-hour block of time you have in the middle of the day, satoru just helps you shrug your coat of your shoulders and smiles, “that’s for the lunch date you have with me, of course!” hanging up your coat in your closet for you, “i’m paying, see you soon, sweets.” and because you’re great at your job, and satoru helps you be great, nobody really questions when the two of you have time for a 13-course tasting menu at 1pm on a tuesday afternoon. and if they did, all satoru would say that you two had a lovely date 

[fisheito]

rereading the nuca pink doujin and seeing yakumo tear himself apart re: his snake form vs his human form all this agony and self-doubt and silent suffering and fear of rejection like "if i looked less human would u hate me" , "if u saw me in my true form wouldn't that be horrible. terrifying. disgusting" , "if i admitted i want to swallow you whole would you think worse of me"

and i imagine him asking something like this to the crowd of clan members , who are , undeniably,, a group of Kinky Fuckers

they all smile with the serenity and carefully masked excitement of a horny olivine. masterful beautiful reassuring expressions (errr..... masked to different degrees depending on the clan member)

[onboardsorasora]

Maybe you have an au that works for this— but thinking about accidental baby acquisition maxiel. Like a “life as we know it” (the movie) AU where they have to adopt a kid, live together and suddenly make it work

Oh! Oh!!

BESTIE. This is...

I don't currently have a fic in the works like this but I honestly love this trope so much. There's a fic I read in my last fandom that did it sooooo lovely.

I will say, I don't remember this film but I read the summary and my brain lit up a little. I hope I'm not like scooping the finer plot points

I imagine they met because their mutual friends are together. Maybe they met originally at the wedding years ago and they're the childhood besties of their friends and get named God parents.

Fast forward maybe 3 years and something bad happens and their friends pass. And it's when they both realize that being named God parents meant that they're responsible for their godchild. Max knew but Daniel had no idea that it was so serious. He just thought it was an honour and now he's extra special uncle Daniel.

Let's say their friends had a son, Jack. And Max goes to the house to meet up with Jack's grandparents who ofc are grieving and don't want to give up their grandchild but Jack is supposed to be in Max's care.

He stays at the house, so Jack has some stability. Daniel comes the next day- he travelled all night. Jack runs to him when he gets inside and Daniel breaks down clutching this little boy to him.

Max offers coffee. Jack spent the night clutched into his chest and he's trying to not feel jealous that he's not clinging to Daniel.

They aren't friends. If anything maybe they didn't really get along during the wedding festivities. But it doesn't matter. They stay with Jack at the house while the grandparents plan the wakes and the funerals.

They both try to explain what it all means and argue about whether telling a 3yr old that death was like final was a good thing. They argue about a lot of things because Daniel believes in protecting Jack a little more about he harshness of the world and Max thinks that it's a bit pragmatic to not lie.

There wasn't really a will because Jacks parents were young and full of life. They couldn't have anticipated the car accident. So because of that any legal decisions made while alive count. Meaning Daniel and Max have full custody of Jack.

Daniel thinks they should allow his grandparents to take care of him. Max thinks they should honour their friend's wishes.

One pair of Jacks grandparents agree with him. Daniel figures they can agree to disagree. but they also can stay in the house with Jack for a little longer before they figure out next steps. Max is one of the executors of the estates and he has to go through all the paperwork and heavy shit.

Daniel watched Jack while Max is working. He spends a lot of time with the grandparents. Daniel moved away after uni and well, he works pretty remote so it's not a hardship to move back. At least until everything is sorted.

Max owns a business so paperwork and lawyers are things he knows. And when all is done he comes back to the house to spend time with Jack. And Daniel.

And it kinda continues like that, unconsciously. They don't like intend to become parental figures but they would do anything for Jack. And sure they still argue but they're happy to provide stability for their godson.

One of the grandparents suggests selling the house and it becomes a point of contention. Daniel disagrees. It's all Jack's known. They can't uproot him after everything.

Something something legalese that the only way to keep everything as it is now is for Daniel and Max to adopt Jack. And be his legal guardians. And the easiest way for that to happen is for them to get married.

Max agrees because fuck it. He'll do anything for Jack. Daniel agrees too because he loves the little shit. Jack is his best boy, his baby wayby. So they have a quick signing at the courthouse. No fandangles or fanfare. And they both completely move into the house.

And that's where things get dicey. Because it was fine before. When they were just friends with a mutual purpose but for some reason a title and a legal document has shifted something.

Max had always thought that Daniel was cute. But now he can't stop thinking about how lovely Daniel is while he's reading to Jack at bedtime or dancing around with him in the house to his dad's favorite albums.

And Daniel always tired to lightly flirt with Max where he could but now-- did Max's jaw get sharper? Are his eyes sparkling in the amber light of Jack's nightlights?

And there's tension and they're tripping over each other. And Jack notices something is different. And he gets worried. Cries that they're leaving him too.

And it's a tantrum of all tantrums and Jack is screaming and wailing and crying for his parents, his real parents. And it takes them hours to calm him. And he won't rest or sleep unless he's touching both of them. Clutching Max's shirt in one hand and Daniel's pinky (the one with the 3) in the other.

They're exhausted and crumbled in the main bedroom because it has the biggest bed. Neither of them sleep in there, it didn't feel right. But holding Jack there, cuddling him close, that felt right.

And maybe Max brushes some tears off of Jack's cheek and kisses him in the forehead and looks over at Daniel who is watching him quietly and Max pulls them both close. Daniel threads their fingers together and Max squeezes and kisses their palms

[b4kuch1n]

sunstroll

[tsutsumi-kurose]

Do you have any Tsukasa analyses?

hi!! thank you sm for the ask!! i love tsukasa analyses, so i was really excited to get this!! there is a small/specific thing i've been thinking about with regards to a couple tsukasa moments recently, and that is:

tsukasa and some not-so-rhetorical questions

there are two specific instances i've been thinking about recently of tsukasa asking typically rhetorical questions in a genuine way. the first time happens in chapter 91. when hanako and nene ask tsukasa how he got to them and why he was there, he asks "who cares?"

i find it really interesting that this question comes before tsukasa asks a long series of hard hitting questions about nene's lifespan, hanako's wish, and destroying the yorishiros. he's asking very real, actionable questions! and this question is grouped in with them! so while "who cares?" is typically a very throwaway question, coming from tsukasa in this moment, i read it as having much more weight. i think tsukasa is experiencing the feeling of that in a very real way. especially given the context of more recent chapters ("he doesn't come when i call," "if you want out, you're going to have to do the best you can by yourself," etc.) while this question may come across as flippant, tsukasa must truly be wondering: "genuinely, who cares where i've been? how or why i'm here? genuinely, do either of the two of you care what i'm up to? you're worried about nene's lifespan and the yorishiros. who he cares about how i got here or why? i have no reason to believe you do." i don't think it's a stretch to think that a boy whose calls for help don't get answered would genuinely wonder: who cares?

and with all the context of 91 up to now, i love to read this question in 110 as a genuine question from tsukasa that hanako hears as rehtorical, and flippant:

"so?" asked so briefly and bluntly is often a rhetorical question: more a statement of "that doesn't matter" or "i don't care." and from hanako's perspective, he has just poured his heart out. he's just said, "yes i could have anything in the whole world, but then i wouldn't have you." to him, this surely must seem like a logical fill in of, "I wouldn't trade you for anything."

but this is tsukasa. tsukasa, who has spent god knows how many years calling out for amane with no response. tsukasa, who knows the following to be fact: 1) hanako knows tsukasa is his yorishiro. 2) hanako has been working to destroy all the yorishiros. thus, the logic from the facts tsukasa has would say that hanako prefers to be without tsukasa. of course he'll be confused that hanako's words suggest he doesn't want to be apart when all he's done with his actions is keep tsukasa away from himself!

it's not surprising, then, that he would want an explanation of how these things connect. the facts tsukasa has say amane doesn't care about him and is prepared to destroy him. so of course amane saying "i wouldn't give you up for anything" is not going to compute, that seems like almost an exact contradiction to the facts tsukasa is working with. the "so?" here is the same question tsukasa's been asking since 1968 in chapter 101: "you'd prefer it if i stayed here, right, amane? or would you rather me gone?" tsukasa thought he had the answer, but now amane's saying the opposite.

i love this panel, because it reads as so hopeful. i really read this as tsukasa wanting to know more about why amane is hung up on never seeing tsukasa again. how often does tsukasa ever want anything for himself? other than to know how someone is feeling? and this moment feels significantly softer than other times he's asked similar things. tsukasa's always asking: what are you thinking? what are you feeling? amane, are you happy to see me? so i think he's genuinely asking here: why would that be a problem? i interpret this panel as tsukasa really, genuinely asking amane to explain that he cares about him, that he wants to be with him. because he has nothing to go off of to prove that that's the case. are you happy to see me, amane? so what if you can never see me again, amane?

to get really specific, i love the lighting in tsukasa's eyes in this panel. his eyes are mostly in shadow, but there's just a bit of light at the tops of them; his irises are almost all black, but there's a little bit of light flooding in at the bottom. because i love to torture myself with tsukasa angst (lol), i like to interpret this specific lightning choice as representing understanding beginning to dawn for tsukasa. a literal flicker of hope. maybe... amane does care about him? maybe amane does want him around? he might just be starting to understand that amane cares, but he needs it explained more, needs it spelled out. hanako's actions have not suggested this is true, so all he can go off of are hanako's words. he needs more words from hanako to make it make sense. so? why would that matter? he's starting to get it, but he has to ask, especially since it goes against all the other signs he's been given.

but, of course, hanako is hanako/amane is amane (i love him but he does win worst communicator for more than fifty years running <3 lmao) so he takes this as a rejection, and doles out his own in return, not hearing the request tsukasa is making, thus affirming what tsukasa already thought: that he hates tsukasa.

the mix of light and dark is gone from tsukasa'a eyes after hanako says "i hate you so much."

his face and eyes are flush with light--with clarity. i know you hate me, amane. no more doubt, no more questions, no more hope.

i'm obsessed with the angst of this entire interaction, and tsukasa asking, "so?" is the hinge it all rests on. the moment of suspension.

here's their chance. here is tsukasa wanting to understand why hanako isn't going through with the plan just because the two of them would never see each other again. here is hanako's chance to explain that he cares.

but it can't line up, not expressed like this. not with "do you love me?" tsuakasa and "of course!" amane. not when they're both so sure their love for the other is obvious, not when they both hear rejection in everything. not when they've both come to expect loneliness as a default, to the point where the other caring about them is never the logical conclusion in their eyes, no matter how obvious their love for the other seems to themselves.

here is a beginning, here in tsukasa's eyes, in his question. but both of them are only ever expecting an end.

(this analysis of tsukasa's eyes in this interaction also connects to the seed of a larger theory i want to explore more soon, which is the possibility that tsukasa's eyes going black isn't necessarily--or at least not exclusively--about the entity's powers taking over, but rather/additionally a reflection of his emotional state... but then that also ties into the really long post i'm trying to wrangle into coherence about tsukasa being genuinely tsukasa... so i may have to elaborate on that another time lol)

thank you again for the ask!! i really love diving into all the possible meanings behind specific/small moments, so i had a lot of fun with this!!

[vaguely-concerned]

actually the more I listen and compare the more I think that a better way to describe the difference between the british masc rook voice and the american one overall is that the british sounds like a very real person who is being genuinely fierce and determined despite the fact that they are scared and understand the gravity of the situation. and the american one sounds like they might really be deeply fucking nuts enough that when the chips are down they are not even really afraid they're busy being a creature of pure 'go go go!!' fjdsklfjsa. when they really hit their stride they become less a person, more some divine instrument being used for the wildest improvised guitar solo you could ever imagine (and desperately trying to keep up with themselves as the rock ballad of inspiration sure is Happening To Them So Much). BIG moist von lipwig vibes, for those in the fandom overlap

[irlbop]

Imagine, though, that the first three Papas hadn’t been assassinated, and there really was a plan to have them reincorporated into the Ghost Project. Perhaps not as the frontmen audiences were more familiar with, but there was certainly use to be found. The Ministry could be resourceful when it wanted to be, after all.

Primo would probably feel confused at best, fatigues at worst as the memories of touring and strutting about began to reappear in the marrow of his bones. He was far from young when the Ghost Project had been revived under his visage, and he’d certainly not gotten any younger in the decade that had passed since he passed on the position.

Ever the diligent shepherd throughout his life, the eldest Emeritus son had found himself quite enjoying his retirement: It had allowed him more time to rest, more time to tend to his personal passions. Further to the point, though, what more did he have to offer? Ghost had prospered with each succession. As far as he was concerned, he had done his job: It was now up to the Next Guy to keep it going.

But, ever the good son and dedicated brother, he hears out the proposal. The stage may not call him back, but the Church does. And for that, he must listen.

Secondo would furrow his brow, almost reflexively creating a slight sneer. Though, it’s not out of disgust so much as uncertainty. And Secondo is very rarely a hesitant person.

He knew how the Church saw him: Angry, bitter, so on and so forth. The very things that contributed to the decision to end his tenure.

…Well, that, and perhaps his exorbitant spending on the Ministry’s dime. There was only so much he could get away with under the justification of gluttony, lust, and sloth, evidently.

Regardless, though, he found the prospect somewhat suspicious. After he retired the mitre, the Ministry appeared to want little to do with him. The Clergy kept interactions to a minimum, and most paperwork had been designated to other members often before. Most who look forward to his presence are Siblings with an appetite they claimed only he could satiate — and frankly, he was content with that.

He was far from a dullard, but Secondo couldn’t fathom what the Ministry realistically could pull from him at this point. Perhaps, then, “conflicted” is the better expression he wore: Eyes narrowing at the prospect as he pondered what this could mean, quiet anger that they would demand more of him after he had given them plenty, but also curiosity.

And a bit of temptation. Best to hear the details. Perhaps maybe even confirm the perks. He would keep his guard up of course, but maybe he could regain access to the Black Card if he played the right cards…

And then…There’s Terzo. Of the Papas present, he was the most emotionally expressive.

“Prone to fits of flamboyancy,” Primo would muse if he were in a gentler mood.

“A shameless twit with no damn self-control,” Secondo would insistently correct.

If that moment had been someone’s first exposure to Terzo, however, they probably would not have guessed it. He is the picture of calm. Almost ennui. Heterochromatic eyes sit beneath bushy brows, hooded as though the proposal were someone waxing poetry of the gilded lily that was doing taxes.

If someone who did know of Terzo and his antics were to see him, they might have concluded one of two options: That he was either zoning out, fantasizing about all the schlong and balls and pussy he could be investing time in; or he was hungover and/or high and thus not computing a single syllable that tumbled into his ears.

But Terzo was stone-cold sober. And he was hanging on to every word like claws sink into flesh.

The fact of the matter is that yes, Terzo could be loud. He could be showy. He was outspoken, enduring, a consummate performer. But that didn’t mean Terzo was dumb. It was so easy to simplify him down to a happy-go-lucky himbo of some sort that people — even his own brothers — would often forget the bottom line: He was still an Emeritus, born from a line coated in blood and shadow.

And in that moment, the blood and shadows within him were boiling, as though the essence of The Pit had found itself replaced into his mortal form.

In that moment, he was putting those years of breathing exercises to use by tempering his inhales and exhales to feel less heated, less sharp. Without the papal paints to give illusion to his features, his features seemed sharper, but not necessarily menacing. He was white-knuckling it in those gloves he was almost never without, ever thankful that their cloth texture didn’t give away his feelings like the squeak of leather would.

They want them back? They want him back? How about a proper send-off to his papacy first? How about an actual final show, one last thing to give to the followers he’d busted his ass off to give to the Church? An apology card signed by the Clergy, an Edible Arrangement, something!

He brought home a goddamn Grammy. And how did they repay him?

By dragging him off of the stage, mind-song. This was the way the most successful Antipope to date’s reign had ended: Not with a bang, not with a kazoo, but with a whimper.

He had given the Church everything he had: His youth to studies, his adulthood preparing for succession, his mind, body, and soul put to the form of song for them to exploit. He even gave them things he did not actually possess, but dressed up just enough to superficially please them. Yet now they come back, ready to take even more? What was even left in their eyes to snatch, he might’ve wondered beneath it all?

A dark bile flowed through his veins like the Serpent through Eden. And oh, how this domain did love its corruption. That is, except for when it conflicted with what they wanted. And what this church of expression and freedom wanted, as far as Terzo saw it, was control. Power. All that uncreative jazz. You were only as free as they saw fit.

Well. Fine. This church loved serpents so much, why not become what they loved? He could slither pitifully on his belly. He could sit in wait. He could speak honeyed words. He could remind them he was but a soft, simple creature.

He could bite.

What this proposal to reincorporate himself and his brothers foretold, he did not yet know. And it frankly didn’t matter to him: He would take it. He would take it and cradle it and slowly nurture it with his venom until the Ministry would recognize the necrosis developing far too late to stop it.

He was, after all, an Emeritus: The favored bloodline of the Dark One. He was insurrection, he was spite.

“I see…” he uttered, stifling a nonexistent yawn.

“And this…idea that you have: What’s in it for me?”

[obey-me-headquarters]

So, I haven't gotten too far into Nightbringer to write any specific smut for it. (Literally only just started lesson 6). But I do have some ideas!!

A lot of my ideas revolve around being the demon's "first" in something. Like, you know your demons inside and out at this point. You know all their kinks, fantasies, and where to touch them to make them squirm. So you can introduce them to all sorts of things that make them scream in the future but they have no experience with now.

For example, showing Lucifer how much of a masochist he is. I don't think Lucifer is a complete virgin in Nightbringer as I think he fooled around as an angel at least a few times. I mean, he's still a few thousand years old, he was bound to get curious and try getting frisky with a few angels. But him trying out BDSM? I seriously doubt it.

So once you and him finally fall into bed together, you show him all the ways he didn't know he loved to be touched. Having such an inexperienced Lucifer is a bit of a novelty and a bit of an annoyance. Present day Lucifer knew what he wanted and he wasn't ashamed of asking for it. The Lucifer you're currently bedding? Doesn't know what he wants.

It's actually really cute how shy Lucifer is. How he tries so hard to stifle his moans when you heard much louder, much needier ones from your present Lucifer.

And you don't want to push him. It's entirely possible that past Lucifer has no interest in BDSM. That his particular taste for masochism and being owned evolved after many centuries.

But you still want to try, to possibly open his eyes to a new world of domination and submission.

So one evening, one careful evening you've been planning for. One evening in which you make sure that his brothers haven't wreaked havoc, one evening where Diavolo doesn't up to distract Lucifer cause him stress. One perfect, relaxing evening, you spring the question onto him.

"Lucifer, have you heard about BDSM?" You ask in your most light, most casual tone to not raise any alarm bells and spook the demon.

Lucifer pauses his undressing, his hands suspended in the air as his tie hangs loosely around his neck. He turns to you in slow motion, looking so bewildered and confused that it makes you want to laugh. Surely your demon couldn't be that pure right? You know he's only been a demon for a little more than a year now, but, come on.

"I'm sorry, have I heard about what?"

"BDSM! Like, Bondage, Domination, Submissive, Masochism. Have you heard of people doing that sort of thing in bed?"

Lucifer's face turns a bright scarlet and he turns away from you. Like, actually physically turning his full back to you, turning away from you. You can see his ears still burning though, and elect not to tease him about it in worry that if you do, Lucifer might become so embarrassed he'll stop being the Avatar of Pride.

"It's fine if you haven't. If you would rather I never bring it up again say the word and I wouldn't." You tell him, concern starting to creep in.

"No. No, it's fine. I just. Why did you choose to bring that topic up?" He asks stiffly, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. A classical Lucifer "I'm nervous about this topic because it inflicts Feelings in me" move.

"I was just wondering. I have been in dom/sub relationships in the, um, past, and was wondering if that was something you'll be into," you say gently, so extremely gently. "It's fine if that's not something you're into." You add.

"You have?" He asks in surprise, and because you know him so well, with a hint of excitement. "What... what role did you fall into?"

Relief crashes into you like a tidal wave. He's into it. He's really into it from what you can tell. He hasn't had any experience with subbing, you know because your Lucifer didn't when you meet him, but he was so desperate to finally try he practically threw himself at your feet.

Not this Lucifer though. This Lucifer most likely knows of the idea, maybe he picked up some porn featuring a dom/sub relationship and knows on some level that he's interested in subbing, but hasn't had the time to stew in that knowledge like your Lucifer did.

"Dominate." You say with confidence, a grin painting your face. "I like control in the bedroom."

And judging by the shiver that shoots up Lucifer's spine at your words, so does he.

Grinning, you stand and begin stalking towards your prey.

"I like taking control of my partner. Make them beg for relief. And if they misbehave, I like to punish them."

"Do. Do you?" Lucifer asks breathlessly.

You're standing behind him and you know he knows you're there. His demon sense picking up on it, and by the way he almost leans backward as if to meet your touch, you know he wants you.

"I do." You state confidently, mere inches away from Lucifer.

"But," your hand grasps Lucifer's shoulder and he flinches. "If my partner didn't want that...." You give him a light pull and he complies, turning to face you.

And oh, what a sight that is.

You missed your subby little Luci. You missed his cute moans, his tears as you edged him, and his screams when you overstimulated him. And you missed his flushed face when you lowered him into subspace.

And this? This perfectly mimics that face.

"Oh, baby." You breathe out, fighting the urge to pepper his face in kisses and pull him into your chest.

"And what if I do? Would you do those things to me?" Lucifer asks, and you're so, so proud of him for asking.

"Darling, I would do all that and more." You say as you kiss him.

Like your Lucifer did in the past, like he will do in the future, he lets you take control.

[oceandiagonale]

Actually, Guzman is his spanish name.

OH YEAH some other folks pointed that out too, makes sense since it's an irl Spanish name (probably why I see it around a lot!) 😳

(normally it's a surname, I've only seen it used as a first name once in a blue moon -- but also in the pokemon world it's pretty clear that naming conventions aren't the same lol)

[blixxkixx]

I thought of scene luffy and then my hand started moving

[captainshazamerica]

Guys I just really miss Titans Jason Todd and am having to stop myself from ranting about how crappy the fandom treated him and just how truly great of a character he was and how Curran portrayed him😭

And say what you want about his Red Hood(tho I personally liked it) Idk how anyone can say his Robin wasn't good😠

[imunbreakabledude]

saw a post saying “the only reason Israel exists is because of western oil interests” - and my thoughts here aren’t specific to that one post but a similar Sentiment I feel like I’ve seen a bunch… it feels… off to me when I see ppl on the left express this notion that Israel is wrong and evil BUT NOT Jewish!!! They don’t want to be antisemitic and they know that Israel does not represent all Jews, and they also want to call out other factors that ARE very significant factors in the past & present of Israel’s militarized existence, but they go so hard in that direction that like… it gives me the Bad Vibes in a different way. Different example that gave me a similar feeling - couple weeks back I remember seeing several friends shared an insta post that was all about Christian Zionism with stats and graphs showing the numbers of Christian zionists, how way more zionists are Christians than Jews, like a 9:1 ratio, and it also said something like “ZIONISM IS ANTISEMITISM”. Which - I wanna be clear, I do think raising awareness of that info is helpful, and I do personally feel that Zionism is harmful to everyone including Jews (but I wouldn’t call it ‘antisemitic’ bc I feel that’s deliberately pushing the limits of words in a way that less clear and more inflammatory than it should be).

But anyway both of these examples feel that common thread to me of like - calling out REAL factors that are at play in Israel’s creation, continued existence, relationship with US (and other) imperialism, but also… like… trying so hard to say “it’s not about Jews, it’s not about Jews at alllllllll!” When like. IT IS A LITTLE ABOUT JEWS, PAL? and it’s okay to acknowledge that?? And honestly I think trying that hard to ignore or talk around the notion of Israel as a Jewish homeland EVEN IF YOU DO NOT PERSONALLY AGREE WITH THAT NOTION OR THE WAY ZIONISM HAS USED VIOLENCE AND COLONIALISM TO MAKE IT HAPPEN, just makes it harder to contend w the reality of the situation. let alone communicate w people who aren’t already on the same exact page about this issue as you are. Like this attempt to try to critique Israel while so desperately talking around the Jewish part is well-meaning, I know, and probably in part a practical defense/response against those who continue to lob accusations of antisemitism against any critique of Israel, but at some point you sound ridiculous

[snippy-tano]

hey snips! I've noticed that you haven't written anything about good ol' sergeant Hunter and I was wondering if you could do a Hunter x female senator maybe? In which the senator is placed under the Bad Batch's protection and the sarg falls head over heels for the reader? Thx 💗

so. this one kind of got away from me.

i didn't realize how long it ended up being until the end. sorry not sorry. part of me was like, i should make this more than one part, but then i decided against it and just figured it would be a helluva a long one-shot. either way, i hope y'all like it!

this ask has been in my inbox for a while, so i apologize for that. maybe it's tbb being on that got me in a hunter mood. oh well. i'm not going to complain. i hope you like it anon! let me know what y'all think! or if you want to see more hunter! *wink wink*

((as some warnings, there are threats against the reader's life. nothing specific, but it is talked about quite frequently as there is someone out there threatening her life. also, someone does get injured over the course of this one-shot and there's some canon typical violence. just want to cover my bases!))

masterlist is here!

taglist is here!

tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @lightningwolffe; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @lussyyung; @lowkeyodinsong; @str-wrs-fics; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @rain-on-kamino; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @social-mockingbird

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

Of Senators and Sergeants

The threats against your life were just that, blank threats from individuals determined to slow you down. But they would never slow you down. The now near constant threats showed that you were on the right track. Clearly there were individuals who wanted you to stop digging, stop pursuing the answer, but that was never going to happen. 

They would have to make true their threats for that to happen, and you doubted they had the guts to do that. 

But your aides were worried. 

And because they were worried about the threats and your seemingly lack of interest in the threats, they reached out to the Jedi Council about providing protection. 

You didn’t like that. You didn’t need the protection and the Jedi were busy with the war effort. You were a senator from a small mid-rim planet with hardly any pull within the senate. You didn’t need a Jedi to be pulled from work that was benefiting the galaxy just to babysit you. 

Thankfully the Council expressed something similar, stating they didn’t have any qualified Jedi handy to keep an eye on you. Which was fine. You didn’t need to be watched. 

Unfortunately, they did assign a clone unit to act as your protection until the threats stopped. Apparently they had been on a few continuous missions and needed a “break” from the specialty missions they were always assigned to. 

You weren’t against the clones, not at all. You admired their skill and brotherhood. You only wished they weren’t forced to fight in a war. 

You were sitting at your desk when Hana, your closest aide, entered. “The unit assigned to protect you is here.”

You let out a sigh. “Show them in please.”

After setting aside your holopad and flimsi, you stood up just as the doors opened and four troopers walked in. You hadn’t been given much information on the men assigned to keep an eye on you. Just the name: Clone Force 99.

Of course you were beyond curious and spent many nights curled up in your apartment, when you should have been sleeping, researching the unit. You came to learn they handled incredibly specific missions designed for delicate care. It didn’t always turn out exactly like planned, but they had a near perfect success rate. Their unofficial name was the Bad Batch. 

Honestly, the more you read about them, the more curious you became. Maybe this wouldn’t be the worst outcome.

“Welcome.” You said with a smile, walking around your desk to greet the four men. “I may not agree with needing protection, but I appreciate your coming.”

“Just doing our job ma’am.” The one in the center said, his bucket tucked neatly under his arm. You met his gaze and gave him a smile.

“Thank you Sergeant Hunter.” 

“Wait, you know him?” The tallest (and biggest) man said, only to be elbowed by the one with a tattoo of a bullseye over his eye. 

You smiled softly. “Not officially. When I learned you were assigned to me, I did some research. It is nice to meet all of you. I again apologize you have to take a break from missions that actually matter to babysit me.”

“Every mission is vital to us.” The man with yellow goggles stated, Tech if you remembered correctly.

“You keep saying you were against protection, may I ask why?” Sergeant Hunter asked and you let out an empty chuckle. You waved to Hana who nodded before leaving. Then you headed back to stand behind your desk.

“I was against protection. Clearly I am on the right path with my inquiries and I do not believe I am in any real danger.” You said, picking up your holopad. 

“Your life has been threatened quite extensively. And the threats were incredibly descriptive and accelerating in quantity.” Tech said, looking up from his data pad. 

“They are just that, threats. I do not believe I am in any real danger. They are trying to get me to stop digging into their illegal exploitation of my planet and I will not be easily startled.” You stated. 

“What exactly are they doing on your planet?” Crosshair asked, playing with the small toothpick in his mouth. 

You sighed. “They have been smuggling spice through our agriculture exports. Normally, our police would have put a stop to this sooner, but I fear that the local police have been bought off. It was brought to my attention by several of my constituents who have been starving. With spice being moved instead of produce, their livelihoods have been disrupted. And with the added pressure of the war effort, my people have been suffering.”

“Isn’t that a job for your governor?” Sergeant Hunter asked. “I mean, you’re just a senator.”

“You’re right. This should be the governor’s responsibility. But the current governor could care less. As long as money is still moving and his expensive taste is quenched, he does not bother.” You said. “I am getting close to determining who is responsible, but I cannot quite seem to find the last remaining piece. Your assignment to me was urgent because I plan on returning home tomorrow. There is only so much I can do from my office here. I hope that by going home I will finally be able to put an end to this.”

“Tech, Hana has a copy of my itinerary. Right now, we have an official itinerary that is just a diversion. According to that, I am attending a conference on Naboo. My actual travel plans are only known by her and myself. If you would like copies of both, please see her. From what I read, you seemed to be the logistical member of your team.” You said, turning to the man who looked up from his datapad.

“Excellent observation. I am indeed.”

“More like the most annoying member.” Wrecker laughed loudly.

“I do not see how being logical is the same as being annoying.”

“That’s because you’re annoying.” 

“Alright. Tech, go get both schedules. Wrecker, go with him, but keep the arguing to a minimum. Check the hallways while you’re at it.” Sergeant Hunter jumped in and the two left, still bickering. “Cross-“

“-I know. Go check the departure location. There won’t be any surprises tomorrow.” Crosshair said before turning and leaving. The door shut behind him and you continued to flip through your flimsi.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sergeant Hunter spoke and it startled you slightly. You let out a sigh, hands stilling. “I read some of the threats, Tech was being generous with his description. Anyone would be afraid or at least concerned.”

“I appreciate the concern but I am not afraid or concerned. They are just threats. It will take more than empty words to sway me. I will be fine once my people are no longer suffering.” 

He clearly wanted to pry further, but you quickly brought him up to speed on everything you had found so far. He didn’t quite buy your distraction, but didn’t fight it. You knew he would likely bring up your blasé attitude towards these threats again, but for now, he at least was offering some assistance. 

By the end of your work day, Sergeant Hunter and Wrecker accompanied you to your apartment. You waited patiently with Wrecker, chatting with him pleasantly while the tracking expert cleared your apartment. He returned a few moments later.

“I didn’t see anything. We should be alright to enter.” He said and you strode right past him.

“See? They’re just threats.”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer before you headed into the kitchen. You pulled out a few already prepped meals and placed them on the counter. “This is for you as well. Please make sure you get something to eat. I am going to wash up and get ready for bed.”

Sergeant Hunter nodded. “Wrecker will keep watch outside your apartment and Tech and Crosshair will be on a nearby rooftop. I’ll stay here to keep watch. You will be safe.”

You gave him a nod of thanks, grabbing a piece of fruit before heading for your room and closing the door. You slumped against the door, letting out a shaky breath. 

Was this really a good idea? Were you over your head and out of your depth? 

You shook your head before pushing off the door. Now wasn’t the time to think like that. You were so close to finding out. You couldn’t give up now. 

You spent the rest of the evening taking a long turn in the refresher, packing a light bag, and reviewing all the documents you had gathered up until this point. Earlier, you had sent the records to Tech after he assured you his datapad was unhackable and untraceable. It was nice to know that the Bad Batch was not only protecting you, but had realized they wouldn’t be able to stop you and had opted to assist you in your goal. You only hoped they didn’t end up regretting it.

There was a soft tap on your door just after midnight. You lowered your datapad and called them to enter. 

Sergeant Hunter stepped in, not fully entering and keeping his eyes downcast. “Everything seems to be clear. If anything happens or you think you hear something-“

“Don’t worry Sergeant. I will call for you immediately.” You reassured and he nodded once before closing the door. You took another deep breath before setting aside your reading glasses and datapad, flicking off the light.

Maybe tonight you’ll actually get some sleep. Although you weren’t holding your breath.

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

You must have dozed because you awoke to the sound of scratching at your window.

It snapped you awake instantly. You have lived here for years. You knew what sounds to expect for the area you lived in. And those were not normal. 

Your heart began to race and you worked to keep your breathing even and not show signs that you were awake. Fighting against all of your instincts to act immediately, you slowly moved your hand under your pillow, fingers closing around the blaster you kept there. 

Your entire body was tensed, ready to move at a moment's notice. And then it came. You heard the sound of the window being opened and you moved. You rolled out of bed and immediately fired two shots at the window. There was a shout from the figure at the window and you were forced to duck down when they returned several shots. Your bedroom door burst open and more shots were fired. 

There was a brief break in the firing from the window and you peered back over the edge of the bed and fired. A body slammed into you and you were forced to the floor as more shots hit the wall opposite the window. 

“Tech! Crosshair! Do you have eyes on them?” Sergeant Hunter shouted near your ear and you winced. 

There was a muffled response and then silence. 

You let out a breath of relief, slumping further against the floor. You opened your eyes to see Hunter already looking down at you. His body covering yours.

“Still think they’re just threats?” 

You supposed you deserved that. 

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

You didn’t sleep the rest of the night. Once Sergeant Hunter had deemed it safe, he let you up from the floor and quickly ushered you into the living room. A blanket had been placed around your shoulders and reports from the rest of the batch trickled in. 

They weren’t able to catch the culprit, but did find a few clues that may help point you in the direction of whoever hired them. Apparently even though they had been injured, likely from one of your shots, they were able to get away with help. The rest of the batch returned and set up a post much closer to the apartment. 

You didn’t report the attack.

Sergeant Hunter had insisted, but you didn’t want anyone finding out because then security would tighten around you. You needed the freedom to move around when you got to your home planet. He also tried to talk you out of continuing with your plan, but you promptly ignored him.

The plans however, did change. 

“I don’t like this idea, Hana.” You spoke to your closest aide who smiled sadly. 

“You don’t have to like it. But it is what we are doing.”

After Hana found out about the attack, she insisted the plans change. Your official schedule still reflected a trip to Naboo, but instead of just no one attending in your place, Hana had insisted she go in your stead. 

“Hana.”

“I am doing this Senator.” She said, placing her hand on your arm. “The guards will not know the difference. We need to make whoever attacked you think you are traveling to Naboo.”

You sighed. She was right, you just didn’t like it. It was one thing to place yourself in danger, it was another to ask a friend to do the same. “I spoke with Senator Amidala. Once you arrive, she will send for you and you will hide out at her private residence until everything has been resolved.”

“I appreciate that.” Hana turned to Sergeant Hunter. “Please make sure she does not get into any more trouble.”

“Hey!”

“I will ma’am.”

You crossed your arms, huffing in annoyance. Hana merely smiled at you. You pulled her into a quick hug. “Please stay safe.”

“You too, Senator.” 

You pulled back, sniffling. You turned to the Sergeant. “I’m ready.”

And then the pair of you left. You and Hana had swapped clothes before leaving, but you still pulled up your hood to conceal your face. With the attack the night before, it had been decided that it would be best for the Bad Batch to take you to your home planet themselves. They had their own ship and hopefully those who were trying to kill you didn’t know that they were assigned to your protective detail. It was easier to control the situation with their own ship versus risking public transport. 

Before you knew it, you were aboard their ship and on the way to your home planet. 

The Batch for the most part left you alone. Wrecker had made a big show of giving you the best seat on the ship, aka the empty bunk towards the back of the ship. It wasn’t much, but it was sweet of him to try to make things a bit more comfortable for you. 

About halfway through the trip, Sergeant Hunter came to check in on you. 

“That was some pretty good shooting.” He said, startling you out of your review of your findings so far.

You felt your cheeks warm involuntarily and looked back down at your datapad. “It could have been better.”

“You still managed to hit the assailant, which isn’t easy to do, especially without training.”

“Who says I’m not trained?” You replied and he chuckled once.

“You may have been taught to shoot a blaster and have pretty good aim, but there’s a difference between that and proper training.” He said, taking a seat on the steps that lead up into the bunk you were sitting in. 

“Is that a challenge, Sergeant?”

“Maybe it is.”

“Consider the challenge accepted. If I survive this, you’ll have to train me properly.” You returned to your datapad.

“Is there a reason you’re so set on proving this, even at risk of your own life? It seems you don’t care much for what happens to you.” Hunter said after a moment of silence and you clenched the datapad a little bit tighter.

“Incredibly bold of you to say Sergeant.”

“I’ve never been once to mince my words. Want to answer my question?” He countered and you let out a sigh.

“My people have always gotten the short end of the stick, ever since I was little. We always were the last to receive aid and no one really seemed to care about our concerns. I wanted to become a Senator so I could fight for my people the way no one else seemed to be willing. This is happening under my watch. I need to fix it for their sake. I don’t care what happens to me as long as my people can live without fear of starving or suffering.” You said, biting on your lip. “It’s foolish, I know, to think I can make a difference. But I have to try.”

“I think it’s admirable.” Hunter said and you looked up at him in surprise. “I don’t agree with your disregard for your own life, but I can admire your desire to give your people the best life they can have. We’ll do our best to help you and keep you alive to see the results Senator.”

You smiled softly. “Thank you Sergeant. Also, thank you for last night.”

Hunter shifted on the steps, clearing his throat and not looking at you. “It was no problem.”

“Still. If we all make it out of this, I will treat all of you to a meal. I promise.” 

He smiled and you could feel your heart stutter for a moment. But you quickly pushed it away. Now was not the time for heart skip at the smile of an attractive Sergeant. You had more important things to worry about. 

“Hunter?” Came Tech’s voice from the front of the ship. “We’ve arrived.”

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

It was decided not long after landing that was best to split up, but stay relatively close.

Your research pointed to two possible locations of where the smuggling was centered. One seemed to be more heavily fortified and the other was just a hunch of yours and likely wouldn’t pan out. Sergeant Hunter had tried to convince you to stay behind, but you insisted on coming. Besides, if something happened when they were gone, you would be all alone.

Sure you could have handled it, but it was enough to convince Hunter to let you go along. Tech, Crosshair, and Wrecker would go for the more heavily fortified location of the docks. Hunter would accompany you to the location of your hunch. You didn’t know if it would pan out, but you had an unshakable feeling about the small seemingly normal storage unit. 

After promising to maintain communication, the groups set off. 

Your walk to the unit was quiet. It was late evening and most people had retired to their homes for the night. Which meant your walk was pleasant. Of course you were nervous of what you would find and hoped that you were right. Your people depended on it. 

You both arrived near the storage unit relatively quickly. Hunter held up a fist to stop you both and motioned you to follow quietly. Your hand tightened around your blaster as you followed. 

The storage unit area was empty, which was a bit strange. There was no one that you could see and you knew from your research that this place was usually pretty busy. It was enough to unnerve you. 

The unit you were looking for was towards the back and in a dimly lit area. Hunter again motioned you to stay put and you obeyed, knowing he had more experience than you in this area. He listened against the door to the unit, before coming back to where you hid. 

“I hear voices inside, but they’re faint. Almost like-”

“-there’s a secret unit and this is just the door.” You finished and he nodded. 

“I think your hunch was right.” 

That sent a swell of pride surging through you. You had been right. Something was going on and it did stem from here.

“Do we call the others?” You whispered, leaning closer.

He nodded. “I’ll send them a comm. We’ll wait until they get here and then investigate.” 

You were about to agree when the door to the unit suddenly opened. Hunter’s hand found your shoulder and pushed you down, him following the motion. You could feel him behind you, eyes trained through the small gap of the crates you were crouching behind. 

“-we need to move the supplies quickly.” came a voice and your blood ran cold.

Hunter must have felt you tense because he squeezed your shoulder. “What?” He breathed in your ear and you turned your head to look at him, nose brushing his chin.

“That’s the governor.” 

The only reaction Hunter had was squeezing your shoulder again. You turned back to listen to the conversation and heard Hunter tap at his comm unit. 

“Did you take care of the Senator?” The governor asked, clear disdain in his voice. 

You winced slightly. Sure the governor and you didn’t exactly get along, but you didn’t think he had this much contempt for you. You didn’t think he cared enough to want you dead. But maybe you didn’t really know him at all.

“They were unable to kill her, but they tracked her to Naboo and will act soon.”

You were moving before you realized it. Even Hunter wasn’t able to stop you in time. 

“It’s over, governor.” Your voice surprised the few individuals at the door to the unit, including the governor. 

His surprise was quickly swallowed when he sneered at you. “I shouldn’t be surprised you managed to sneak on to the planet, you always were a nuisance.” 

“You will be punished for this.”

He had the nerve to laugh. “No I won’t. Because you will never make it out of here alive.” 

The men who were with him reached for their guns and once again, you were faster. You had shot one down and were shooting at the next by the time they drew their weapons. Hunter appeared beside you, shooting at the men that must have come from behind. The governor turned and began to ran, several men flanking him.

“Hunter!” You cried and he turned to look. 

“Go! I’m right behind you!”

You moved immediately, chasing after him. For being such an old hermit, the governor sure moved fast. You caught up to him just outside of the units where a ship was waiting for him. You shot at one of the men with him, making them fall.

“Stop right there!” 

The governor stopped at your words, slowly turning. He was still sneering at you. 

“What do you hope to accomplish here? Even if I go down, the smuggling will continue. We are deeply entrenched here, nothing you can do will change that.” He said and you tightened your grip on your blaster. 

“Doesn’t matter. I will not stop until the people are no longer suffering.” 

He laughed.

“Hard to do that when you’re dead.” 

You saw a flash of light and tried to duck, but this time you weren’t fast enough. A blaster bolt hit your arm and you fell backwards. You heard your name yelled and blinked open your eyes to see the Sergeant. His arm was supporting your back and pressing down on your wound.

“Hunter, he-” You started only for him to catch your pointing hand.

“It’s alright, I got him. He’s stunned. You did it.”

You let your head fall back, relief once again washing over you. You lifted your head to see Hunter watching you with worry, his hand still clutching yours.

Another flash of movement caught your eye and you saw one of the criminals getting up and raising a blaster at Hunter’s exposed back. You lunged for Hunter’s discarded blaster and shot, striking the man down before he had the chance to take the shot. 

The Sergeant turned in time to see the man drop. He turned back to you as you dropped the blaster.

“Still think I need training?”

Hunter laughed and you felt yourself relax, vision starting to go dark. You could have sworn you heard him say something else, but it was lost to the ether as you slipped into unconsciousness. 

In the days that followed, a clone battalion was dispatched and began weeding out the corruption that existed under the governor’s guidance. It didn’t take long, once he realized he was done for, he practically outed everyone without stopping to breathe. 

Hana had commed you later in the days following to report that she was fine and would be returning to Coruscant to wait for you. You opted to stay a few days to make sure everything was taken care of. Your blaster wound was purely cosmetic, just a graze. It will likely scar, but you would have no other issues from it. 

The Bad Batch had stuck around to help as well and then offered to escort you back to Coruscant. You were going to decline, but they had insisted and you found it was hard to say no to Wrecker, so you obliged. 

It was your first day back at the Senate and your door was practically a revolving door with the amount of Senator’s coming to commend you on your actions. Some were genuine, some you could tell they wanted you on their side when it came to upcoming voting. You smiled at all of them and kept your answers as curt as possible. It was better this way. 

Late in the afternoon the visits finally stopped and you were able to get some actual work done. 

The door opened and you sighed. “Hana, please tell whatever senator that is here that I’m not here. Tell them anything, just let me have a minute to get some work done.”

“I’ll go if you want.”

Your head snapped up to see Sergeant Hunter motioning to the door. 

“No!” You said almost too quickly as you stood up. “It’s okay. I thought you were another senator.”

“Tired of their constant praises? You deserve all of it.” He replied and you cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks warm.

“No I just - I just want to go back to work. Go back to doing what I do best.” You said and he nodded as he slowly approached. 

“I understand that. I just wanted to stop by before the boys and I head out.”

“Another mission?”

Hunter nodded. “There’s always another mission.”

“I stand by what I said before.” You said, continuing when Hunter looked at you with eyes narrowed. “I want to buy you all a nice meal for your help. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.” 

“That’s not necessary ma’am.”

You said your name and he looked at you, surprised. “Please, call me by my name. I’d prefer it.”

He laughed lightly. “I think I can manage that.”

“Oh before you go.” You said, stepping around your desk and approaching Hunter. You placed a small piece of flimsi in his hand. “It’s my comm number. You did say you would train me.”

Hunter clutched the small piece in his hand before looking up at you with a faint smile on his face. “I’m starting to think you don’t need it. But name the time and place. I’ll be there.”

You smiled back. His hand enveloped yours and you squeezed his hand right back.

Sure your meeting was less than ideal and you did end up getting shot at the end, but you found that you’d do it all over again if it meant you got to meet Hunter. You didn’t know what came next, but you were excited to see where this went.