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p1utofairy · 6 months

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PAC: “one hit of your love addicted me. now i’m strung out on you, darlin’, can’t you see?” 🕊️🕰️✨📨

• what will your first love be like?

disclaimer ✩: take what resonates, leave what doesn't. i wanted to try something new by including edits but ofc tumblr is annoying and doesn’t let you post more than 1 video ugh. hope you all enjoy this though! love you much.

PILE ONE.

hey pile 1 🎀 right off the bat i gotta say…your person could possibly give anakin skywalker vibes visually lolololol very tall, handsome and broody. i'm also thinking of jon snow from ‘game of thrones’ hmmm i think this just ties into the fact that your person is in their bag a good 85% of the time! they analyze and process their thoughts & emotions a lot, and this won’t change especially when it comes to their love and devotion for you. they are very intense and purposeful when it comes to love — there’s no faking it or forcing it. they say what they mean, and mean what they say. they hold themselves to a very high standard so i think they’ll be in their head a lot when it comes down to approaching you/courting you. they want to make sure that they’re doing and saying the right things…they want to make sure that you’re comfortable. they will prioritize you and take the time out to really get to know you! they don’t want to do the whole cliché “wyd” texts or just take you out to the movies. no, they want to be able to take you to places you’ve never been before & treat you to beautiful experiences that will stay with you forever. that’s how highly they think of you, pile 1! they think you deserve the best of the best and they will do everything in their power to give you just that. this person has been through a lot in their life and they’ve felt so alone and misunderstood. 9x out of 10 if they just got out of a relationship, their ex didn’t understand them or couldn’t match them emotionally. your person is big on “everything happens for a reason” so when you come into their life they’re going to feel so much joy and relief, it’s like you’re their saving grace. it’s that energy of — where have you been all my life? that scene of anakin and padmé in ‘star wars: attack of the clones’ on the balcony is coming to mind…the longing in their eyes before they share their first kiss. a lot of people may talk about y'alls relationship/how y'all got together. it's nothing scandalous…i just see people being infatuated? i’m picking up a lot of outside influences/opinions so just be careful of that…don't have too many people in your business cause i’m picking up that some of these people don’t have the best intentions and are secretly jealous. it’s giving very much “fan behavior” hm they might keep tabs or ask lots of questions about you and your person’s relationship…it’s weird. i think for some of you, you’ve been single for a long time, so it’s going to be a shock to a lot of people when you pop out with this person. once your person comes into your life you may start to notice multiple people show romantic interest in you and you’ll be like??? where tf were y’all at when i was single for ____ years?! LMFAOOOOO that’s hilarious but back to your first love, it’ll be beautifully intense. i see you giggling a lot, staring at your person with big starry eyes and a lot of physical touch between you two. it may not even be in a flashy way? i can just see you coming up behind them and placing a hand on their back to make your presence known…i see a lot of moments of them holding you in their arms and resting their forehead against yours — they’re looking at you with so much intensity…deep concentration and passion etched across their face and you just break out into this bright smile and they just melt. you look so innocent compared to them like there’s this light in your eyes that’s left their own a long time ago, but they feel so safe…so free to be themselves when they’re with you. you’re their heart, pile 1. i’m hearing that scene from ‘the bear’ when carmy tells sydney “i couldn’t do it without you. i wouldn’t even want to do it without you…” AWWWWEEEEEE.

via tnqkins on tiktok

other channeled messages:

who's that girl? by eve, shravana moon/rising, doe eyes, baby pink, curly hair, strong arms, yin & yang energy, younger/age difference, vishaka scorpio moon, hypnotic gaze, 10:10, mirroring each other, distinct cologne

PILE TWO.

heyyy pile 2! you will NOT expect to fall in love with this person wow, your feelings for them will actually catch you off guard. this person is not your usual type and that's what's so intriguing about them…you’ll never know what to expect with them; they’ll keep you on your toes. i think that you keep repeating cycles or keep going back to someone who is no good for you, but once you meet this person there’s no going back. you’ll gravitate towards them like a month drawn to a flame lol you can’t fight these feelings even if you wanted to. you might meet this person through a mutual friend or meet them in a group setting, i see other people around you both as you talk and get to know each other. there’s so much warmth that this person radiates…they feel like home to you. a hug from them could fix your bad day, a kiss from them could make your heart skip a beat 🥹 and their smile?! to see them smile at you will give you an instant serotonin boost. this relationship feels divine…it feels fated. it’s giving “right person at the right time” like everything leading up to this connection will make so much sense once you’re actually together. some of you that chose this pile are quick to self-sabotage or cut off a relationship before you can get too emotionally invested. you’ve built these walls up because you’ve been through a lot of shit and you don’t want the extra baggage a relationship can sometimes bring, but it’s gonna be different with this person. you’re going to be so open to receiving their love and reciprocating it, there’s going to be such a healthy balance between you two. i’m hearing that this person is going to be a wish fulfillment, pile 2. this might be a long distance relationship at first — you might have to travel to see each other or you both will like to travel to different places together. they will value you so much! they will wine and dine you, surprise you with your favorite things and make sure you always have whatever your heart desires. they love you and they will have no problem showing that.

other channeled messages:

short king, sagittarius, bisexual, when harry met sally, opposites attract, capricorn man, matcha latte, boyfriend by big time rush, saturn dominant, west virgina, virgo/6H placements, ruby, freckles

PILE THREE.

pile 333 🦢 whoa i'm already picking up that this is a love that only grows stronger and better with time; it ages like fine wine. WOW WOW WOW. i'm ngl i feel like this person is your divine counterpart…when i say you two are a match made in heaven — i mean it. you complete each other in ways that other people will never truly understand. there’s this unspoken love and desire between you two initially; i see you both stealing a lot of glances at each other, waiting for the other to cave in and say something…anything. you both want to close that space between you but don’t know exactly how to. i don’t think either of you has ever felt this way before about anybody 😮‍💨 this love is strong AF. it’s never a dull moment between you two, there’s always that underlying passion and spark ready to consume you both. i’m picking up that either your ex or their ex is going to be very envious of this relationship. they almost feel blindsided in a sense…they thought you were going to come back to them and give them another chance, so it's going to make them feel some type of way when they see that you’ve moved on. please be cautious of this ex pile 3…they don’t have good intentions at all and i pick up an obsessive vibe from them. we are blocking that all the way out 🧿 anyways! your person’s love language is more than likely quality time…they loveeeeeee spending time with you and stepping out of their comfort zone to try things that you like. there’s a solid friendship at the root of this connection pile 3…like not only is this person your lover, but they’re also your best friend wrapped into one. you will give them the key to your heart and vice versa. any other options or third party situations will be cut off/left behind because all you both can see is each other! nothing and no one can tear this relationship down because it’s built on such a strong foundation, you can see yourself with this person years down the line from now and they feel the exact same way. you’re home to them. i know this is your first love pile 3 but i wouldn’t be surprised if they popped the question 💍 — i'm just sayinnnnnnnnnn!

other channeled messages:

feel it by jacquees ft. lloyd & rich homie quan, la perla lingerie, just left a toxic relationship, rock the boat by aaliyah, air sign placements, 26, 111, lemon drop, leo, jaded by drake

#pac #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile #love reading #pac reading #intuitive reading #tarot reading #energy reading #love pac #pac tarot #tarot #tarot pac #p1utofairy

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flamingpudding · 7 months

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Fictober23 Prompt: 15 - "Fine explain it to me."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Slight shipping but can be seen as platonic too

A/N: Just wanted to mention that I usually am more of a found family themed dpxdc writer but this was a self runner once I started writing until I realised that this could be seen as a ship.

Danny sipped on the champain, he was drinking leaning against the wall. Next to him, also leaning against the wall with crossed arms was Dan glaring at everyone that even remotely tried to approach them. Dani had disappeared into the crowds and Danny was convinced that she had made her way to the buffet table and had found a hiding place with whatever food she had piled up high on a plate. He had seen her do that before.

"How long do these things go?" Dan asked, glaring at someone specifically, Danny knew was a business partner of the fruitloop.

"A couple of hours, usually fruitloop lets us leave around 8 pm." Danny answered easily, surveying the area for any familiar face he might recognize despite knowing he wouldn't. Sam's family wasn't attending this gala and any face he could recognize was probably a business partner of Vlad or someone he had seen on a magazine cover.

"Dile back your glare. Your eyes are glowing red." He offhandedly mentioned to his time-clone-twin taking another sip. Dan only growled at him and looked stubbornly away, though his eyes lost the red color and turned back to a blue.

"How do you and Dani do this shit?"

Danny hummed, museing how things had changed over the past couple of years since Dani and him started to attend these Galas Vlad made them go too. "I hated it at first too. But you weren't socialized enough to attend and Dani used to flat out refuse but we got used to it and found our tactics on how to handle it. Dani usually raids the buffet and finds a hiding place, I just hang with Sam if she is here."

"But she is not." Dan growled, now glaring at a rich kid that had looked like it wanted to approach them but wisely decided to turn tail at Dan's glare. "These stuck up kids are trying to mock us aren't they?"

"Yup." Danny popped the p. "We could always ghost the fruitloop though."

"And have to listen to him lecturing us later? No thanks." Dan's eyes went over the people at this place. He saw Vlad talking to someone he was pretty sure had been on the cover of some tech magazine before but then his eyes stopped on a guy with black hair and blue eyes looking only slightly older than them that was staring at them very intensely.

Dan rammed his elbow into Danny's side, causing the other to wheeze and nearly drop the glass he was holding. The one he had spotted was now on his way to approach them and Dan narrowed his eyes. "You know that guy?"

Danny once he caught his breath again looked up and his eyes widened with recognition. "Shit!"

But before Dan could question the other about that guy, who was now speed walking with a business smile towards them, Danny grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him along with him. "We need to go, like right now."

Dan dragging his feed and making Danny literally drag him along only looked at his phone arching an eyebrow mockingly. "It's not 8 pm yet."

"Text the fruitloop. We are going-"

"Danny, what a pleasure to see you here, I didn't know you attended galas like this." Danny got cut off by the same guy Dan had spotted watching them. He hadn't seen how but somehow that guy had managed to cross the hall before them and block Danny's exit.

Dan heard Danny mutter a distinctive "fuck" before letting go of his elbow and smiling at the guy nervously. "Dick. What a surprise. I didn't know you would be here."

"Dick?" Dan repeated with an arched eyebrow but Danny swiftly stepped on his foot.

"Well Bruce thought it was about time again I attended one of the Galas with him again. You know how it is, don't you?" There was a glint in the other's eyes and Dan eyed him interested, the guy had some dirt on Danny. This was going to be interesting.

"Ah well yea, Vlad asked for me to come along too and someone got to represent my late parents too after all." Danny laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and clearly avoiding direct eye contact.

"Represent your late parents?"

"Yea funny thing, my parents willed their company to me and-"

"I thought you said you were an engineer working for Dalv.Co? To think I told you about how I am with the Waynes and yet you never mentioned even once to me your relation to Masters." Dan blinked, okay so that guy was a friend Danny had made somehow outside of Sam and Tucker.

"I do! I do, it's just that… well... I can explain!"

"Fine, explain it to me."

Danny appeared to be a flustered mess while this Dick was staring at him with crossed arms. Dan watched them with fascination and a small amount of satisfaction at how Danny fumbled with his words. He then felt a tuck at his side and locked down to find Dani offering him popcorn.

"That's Dick Greyson." Something suddenly clicked for Dan and he smirked down at Dani.

"The guy that's teaching your Gymnastic course that Danny always volunteers to take you too?"

Dani nodded once more and now also sporting a mischievous smile.

#fictober23 #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #crossover #dick grayson #dan phantom #dani phantom #vlad master #Danny might have a crush on Dick #He meet him through Dani's gymnastics course Dick is voluntary teaching #They do not know about each others secret identities #Danny forgot that Dick was a Wayne and can appear at galas too #He had kept his relation to Vlad a secret

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webslinger-holland · 2 months

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The Sergeant's Senator | Chapter 4

Summary: The Senator has spent the last couple weeks locked inside, but now wants nothing more than to go outside. The others need to find a way to get her outside without being spotted or recognized.

Warning: mention of the shooter, vial of blood is alluded to, characters have slight anxiety, mutual pining, suggestive talk, weaponry mentioned (not used)

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Senator

Type: Short Series

Word Count: 5.4k

Series Masterlist

The day following the attack was spent talking to The Coruscant Security Force. They had come to the apartment to investigate the destruction, opening a brand new case file against the shooter. While some officers were snapping photographs of the scene, the other ones were questioning the people who witnessed the attack.

In the meantime, Crosshair made sure to keep a close eye out the window with his sniper in hand. His eyes scanned the city skyline thoroughly. By the couches, Senator Rayna and Hunter gave their statements to an officer. The man took notes on a pad of paper.

"And where you able to get a good look at the shooter? Maybe what they were wearing," the officer suggested.

"No, we didn't get a good look. It was quite dark out and we went in the best position to look at them," Hunter explained. Even with his heightened senses, Hunter wasn't able to get a great look before he fired his shot.

Just then, Tech came to approach the small group. He held his data pad in one hand and a small vial of blood in the other. He passed the vial to the officer.

"This might be of some assistance to you," Tech told the officer. "It was found on the rooftop where the shooter was located. That is their blood."

The officer went to open his mouth to question how he managed to get a sample of the shooter's blood, but the technical clone beat him to talking by saying:

"You should be able to run a DNA diagnosis test to pinpoint who it is exactly. Then you can release a warrant for his arrest," Tech explained to the officer as if he didn't know how to do his job. He typed away at his data pad.

The senator was forced to stuff her lips into her mouth in hopes of stifling a small laugh. She glanced up at the sergeant who gave her a shrug and a look that said: "That's Tech for you."

"R-Right. We'll get right on that and get back to you once the results are in," the officer stammered over his words. "We should have this place cleaned up in a few days. I presume you have a place to stay?"

"She does," Hunter interjected before Y/n could speak for herself. He left it at that, not wishing to disclose where the senator was staying just in case unwanted ears were listening.

The officer gave a firm nod of the head, showing them appreciation for their willingness to answer their questions. "Thank you for your time."

Over the next couple weeks, Senator Rayna was fully immersed in her work back at the office. Her schedule consisted of attending meetings, writing her speech, and sitting in on what was happening at the senate. All the while, the Bad Batch escorted her to every function. They kept a close eye on her while being fully aware of the dangers that could accompany them.

It had been many weeks since the attack at the high-rise, which was now the longest amount of time between attacks. Something was not right. His suspicious grew with each passing day. That only made him want to take extra precautions when accompanying the senator out.

"I don't like it," Hunter grumbled more to himself. He paced back and forth across the office.

The senator spared him a quick glance before returning her attention to the papers in front of her. "Stop pacing," Senator Rayna spoke from behind her paper.

"It's been weeks and nothing. We haven't heard a thing from this guy," Hunter complained. He raised his hand to gesture out the window.

"Well, I am most certainly thankful for that. You're not the one who's a target here," Senator Rayna stated. He slumped down into a chair facing her desk. He fidgeted with his fingers nervously; his eyes darting around the room.

"He's gonna strike. I just know it," Hunter claimed.

"Hunter," Y/n spoke softly. "I think you're a little paranoid."

"And you're not?" Hunter inquired, glancing at her.

"Not anymore," Y/n confessed with a soft smile on her face. He stared directly at her with a hint of intrigue in his eyes.

"Why?"

"Because I have you," Y/n explained. She felt herself getting lost in those dark brown eyes of his. She quickly snapped out of it and redirected her gaze away from him. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "A-And your brothers looking out for me," Y/n added.

The senator pretended to go back to her work, but she was secretly thinking about the sergeant in front of her. She tried so hard to push those thoughts away, knowing that it wasn't right to be pining after and crushing over her sergeant who was assigned to protect her. It wasn't like he could reciprocate the feelings; he was a clone after all and they were programmed to not meddle in those matters.

Despite the looks, Hunter wasn't void of all emotions. In fact, as of recently, Hunter discovered that he was shifting towards having a more domesticated heart. His thoughts wandered back to his friend named Cut who was a deserter clone settled on Saleucami. He had gone so far as to marry a Twi'lek named Suu and have two children together.

The difference between Hunter and Cut were their priorities in life. While Cut found purpose in providing for his family, Hunter was still a soldier for the Republic and served in the war. Now, Hunter envied the life Cut made for himself and wished that someday after the war, he'd be able to seek the same kind of life for himself.

However, despite this optimist approach that the war would end, there was still a matter at hand. Once the war ended, Hunter may be free to chose a life for himself, but Y/n would not be. She'd still be a senator, sitting through meetings and making grand speeches. She herself would be working hard to make the galaxy a better place. That was something that Hunter would never be able to pull her away from. It was her purpose.

Which was why, for the past few months, Hunter tried to distance himself from the senator emotionally. He still needed to be in close proximity to her in order to keep her safe, but he simply wouldn't allow himself to become too attached. One day, they'd have to go their separate ways and that would be the end of it.

This was a tricky task for him. His head screamed to stop, but his heart pleaded to try. Once the senator returned to her apartment after it was fully restored, Hunter found it incredibly difficult to stay away from his bed aboard the Marauder. His once undisturbed bed now smelled so strongly of lavender that it drove his senses wild.

More often than not, Hunter came to discover how she was constantly invading his senses. Whether the senator wore a particularly flattering dress or gingerly touched his arm, it drove him wild. He tried wearing his helmet more, igniting the feature that blocked out those senses for his own sake.

But right now, sitting in her company, Hunter wasn't wearing his helmet. He stared at her longingly, admiring the way a few baby hairs fell around her face. He also seemed to catch the soft pink tone on her cheeks, but she quickly shielded her face from him behind a piece of paper. The gentle flutter of her heartbeat did not go unnoticed either.

Just then, the door to the office slid open to reveal the other four members of the squad. They had just come back from grabbing lunch in the cafeteria downstairs. They figured, given the quietness over the past couple weeks, that they could afford sneaking down for quick bite to eat. But that had been an hour ago.

"Took you long enough," Hunter huffed. He crossed his arms over his chest, seemingly unamused by their prolonged absence.

"That's because Wrecker kept going back for more food," Echo scoffed.

"It never ends," Wrecker exclaimed with a bright smile on his face. He came around the side of the chair. "They let you take as much food as you want. I haven't been this full in a long time."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Y/n smiled at him.

"So," Wrecker clasped his hands together rather loudly. "What's on the docket for today?"

"Nothing," Tech and Y/n replied simultaneously.

"Her schedule is empty," Tech spoke. His nose was buried deep into his data pad.

"No meetings? No speeches?" Wrecker questioned. He seemed rather confused as he felt there was almost always something the senator had to do. But it was only two hours past noon.

"Not really," Y/n shrugged her shoulders. "I initially planned to spend the whole day finishing writing my speech, but now, I'd like to do something else."

"What did you have in mind?" Hunter inquired curiously.

When the senator saw all eyes on her, she felt her nerves go uneasy. She twiddled with the pen in her hands, thinking about what she was about to say. She didn't know if it was such a good idea after all.

"I-I'd like to go out," Y/n confessed timidly.

The room remained silent for a moment. The senator glanced between each of the clones in attempts to read their expressions and predict who was going to speak up first. Sure enough, the sarge was the first one to speak for his brothers. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Out?" Hunter clarified.

"Your speech is in two days," Tech pointed out.

"Shouldn't you prioritize that?" Echo questioned.

"I haven't been able to properly go outside for weeks," Y/n ignored them. She threw her hands up in defeat, resting against the back of her chair. "The most fresh air I get is going between here and my place."

"Do you really think it's a good idea to go out in public? With everything going on?" Echo chimed in.

"Not to mention the fact that you have easily one of the most recognizable faces on Coruscant," Tech pointed out.

"I'd wear a disguise," Y/n replied.

"Really? A disguise," Hunter held back a laugh.

"Believe it or not: I do own civvy clothes," Y/n reassured them.

"I'd pay to see that," Wrecker laughed. He rather forcefully nudged Crosshair who was standing right beside him, but he just shook his head in annoyance.

Trying to ignore his brother's comment, Hunter found himself leaning forward in the seat. He came up with a hypothetical situation. "Say we do go out, what would you even want to do?" Hunter asked her.

"Anything," Y/n sighed. "Just get me out of this office."

For a moment, Hunter contemplated the choice to leave. He averted his gaze to ponder some more. He found feel his brothers gazing at him expectingly, which made him realize just how much they too wanted to get out. The risk was almost too high given that she had a massive target painted on her back.

Sensing how he was leaning more towards a negative response, the senator quickly rose to her feet and rounded the side of her desk. She knelt down on the floor right beside his chair. She placed a hand on his forearm which drew his attention towards it. Her eyes were pleading, begging for a little freedom.

"Twenty credits says he caves," Crosshair said discreetly to his twin standing right beside him.

Before Tech was able to accept the challenge, Wrecker spoke up quietly. "You're on."

To which Tech rolled his eyes. He went back to his data pad.

"Please sarge," Y/n urged. Her other hand went up to trace his fingers gently, coaxing him to watch her intently. She drew small shapes on his palm. Her eyes flickered up to him. "Just for a little while?"

Finally, Hunter began to withdraw his hand away from her in a slow manner. He flexed his hand once or twice to get rid of the feeling of her fingers having just graced him. He refused to look at her.

"Fine," Hunter sighed heavily.

A bright smile grew across her lips. She thought about throwing her arms around him for an embrace, but she figured that she may be overstepping if she did so. Instead, Y/n stood to her feet from her spot. She could barely contain her excitement.

In the background, Wrecker and Tech went to place their twenty credits into Crosshair's expecting hand. Both of them looking rather solemn, but the third was rather pleased with his new change. He pocketed the credits into a pouch.

Before Y/n was able to turn away, Hunter reached out to grab her wrist. The excitement was quickly disappeared from her face. Now she wondered if he'd changed his mind. She went to look down at him, fearful of what he was about to say.

Under his fingers, Hunter felt her pulse growing faster on her wrist and he could hear the thumping of her heart. He wasn't sure if it was anxiety or excitement coming from her. But he spoke to her to get his point across.

"But if we are doing this, you are gonna do things my way," Hunter's sulky voice ordered. His eyes flickered up to meet hers in a stern glare. "You got that?"

"Yes sir," Y/n gulped.

Upon hearing this, Hunter instinctively tightened his grip on her wrist without realizing it. It drew a small gasp out of her lips which only spurred him on more. Now satisfied with her answer, Hunter began to release his grip on her. He gestured to the side as if to encourage her to keep moving.

As the senator walked away, Hunter redirected his line of attention to his band of brothers standing on the sidelines. He had already come up with a plan to execute this outing.

"Go back to the Marauder," Hunter spoke to the muscles of the group. "We are going to need the old crate."

A few minutes later, Wrecker had returned to the office carrying a massive crate in his hands. He brought it to the center of the room and dropped it on the floor, which resulted in a loud thump. Opening the lid of the crate, Tech began digging through the various items within it. He was searching for something in particular.

Without glancing up, Tech grabbed something black and handed it to Hunter. He strode across the room towards the senator, offering the odd black material to her. She furrowed her eyebrows upon further inspection.

"What is this?" Y/n inquired. She gingerly took hold of the material.

"We call them blacks," Hunter stated.

"And what am I supposed to do with it?"

"Take off your clothes," Hunter explained. Her eyes snapped up to his face, showing the evident look of surprise in her eyes. He finished what he was saying: "And put these on."

Silently, Senator Rayna nodded her head understandingly. She went towards the restroom on the other side of the room, stepping inside and closing the door behind her for privacy.

With Hunter's eyes still locked on the door, Crosshair approached his side. His eyes followed the line of his brother's. He adjusted the toothpick in the corner of his mouth.

"Didn't take you for the flirting type," Crosshair noted. His voice sounded like it was poison in the brother's ear; like it was laced with ill intent.

"I'm not," Hunter spoke firmly without taking his eyes off the door. "Just telling her what to do."

"You're a horrible liar," Crosshair scoffed with a shake of the head. He proceeded to turn away from him and return to his other brothers side by the crate.

Just a moment later, the door creaked open ever so slightly, but it successfully drew the attention of all the clones. They looked up to watch the young senator emerge from the private space. Their eyebrows shot up in slight surprise once she finally stepped into their view.

The blacks were designed to fit any body shape, which meant that the material naturally looked small before one put it on. It was truly a "one size fits all" type of clothing. And boy, did it show.

It fit her body like a black glove. The black material hugged her figure so tightly that it showed every single curve of her body. While to some, it may look incredibly uncomfortable, it was actually one of the softest materials available in the galaxy. It was lightweight, versatile, and rather cheap. Every soldier for the Republic wore blacks under their armor.

Breaking the silence, Wrecker let out a wolf whistle which only brought a swift nudge in the side from Echo. She avoided their gazes expertly, keeping her eyes on the ground. She shuffled across the small stretch, bringing her arms to cross against her chest.

"I-It feels odd wearing just this," Y/n said honestly.

"You'll get used to it," Hunter reassured her, feeling a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Found it!" Tech exclaimed from behind them. The rest of them redirected their attention towards him.

Finally, Tech retrieved a single piece of black armor from the crate. It was a clone chest piece. He held it up for further examination. However, Senator Rayna only furrowed her eyebrows in slight confusion once again. She had no idea what he was doing with a piece of armor.

"This will do nicely," Tech stated with a nod. He rounded the side of the crate to offer the chest piece to the senator.

But she initially didn't take it from him, which meant he'd need to explain his motives to her.

"I have taken the liberty of riffling through our old armor crate. Given your physique, I have selected one of Echo's old chest pieces." Tech pushed the chest plate into her hands.

"You want to me put this on?" Y/n questioned.

"That's the plan," Hunter interjected.

"So I look like a clone?"

"So you have protection," Hunter corrected. He raised a single finger to emphasis his words. "Along with a disguise."

"I won't fit in this," Y/n exclaimed. She tried holding up the chest plate to look at it closer, but it was incredibly heavy.

"Which is why I provided you with Echo's piece. He's the smallest," Tech stated as a matter of factly.

"Hey," Echo chimed in, taking offense.

Before the senator was able to protest, Hunter had already taken the chest plate out of her hands and was fitting it over her head. She slipped her arms through the holes on the side. He moved the piece of armor around until it was comfortable resting on her chest.

In the meantime, Tech and Echo began to bring the other pieces over for assembly. They handed each piece to the sergeant who knew exactly where they went on the body. The senator was beginning to feel the armor's weight as the pauldrons were attached to her shoulders.

"It feels quite heavy," Y/n realized.

"That is because it is katarn-class armor, which is much more stronger and more resilient than your typical plastoid clone armor. It will weight approximately 45 pounds once put together," Tech explained as he fitted a spare piece to her side.

"Is this really necessary?" Y/n wondered. She raised her arms upwards as the belt was attached across her waist.

"Provided that this may save your life by deflecting a blaster shot, then yes, I would say it's necessary." Tech shrugged.

"Hunter," Echo redirected. He quickly tossed him another piece from the crate, which he caught without looking.

While distracted by Tech's rambling, she didn't even notice the hands that grabbed her hips and directed her body to turn. She shuffled on her feet until she was fully facing the sergeant. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, getting on his knees in front of her.

For some unknown reason, Y/n felt something ignite within the pit of her stomach at the sight of him on his knees in front of her. She felt his fingers encircle around her ankle, silently encouraging her to lift it up. He fitted the thigh gauntlet through her foot, sliding it up the long length of her leg.

His fingers brushed against the inside of her thigh, which pulled the smallest gasp out of her. The sergeant couldn't contain the sly smirk from tugging at the corners of his lips. He felt her eyes burning into the top of his head, documenting his every move. He secured the piece as tightly as possible before glancing up at her.

She could have sworn she saw his eyes darken.

"Don't give me that look," Y/n begged quietly. She tore her gaze away from the sergeant's captivating eyes in hopes of hiding her blush. She tried to balance on one foot.

"What look?" Hunter teased.

"You know what I am talking about," Y/n insisted with a playful roll of the eyes. He chuckled deeply to himself.

Now moving, Tech shifted in his stance beside her which resulted in her loosing her balance slightly. She stumbled to the side, but she placed her hand on the sergeant's shoulder for better balance. Her hand was desperately close to his neck; so much close that she felt the strands of hair tickling her fingers.

For the time being, Hunter needed to push those feelings down once again. He fought the desire to feel her fingers threaded through his hair and tugging at his locks. He felt a slight flutter in the pit of his stomach, feeling the blood flow shifting south.

A heavy lump in his throat was forming as one of her fingers delicately brushed against the side of his neck where his pulse would be.

Through distractions, Hunter focused on finishing the task at hand. He secured one of the knee pads before moving onto fitting the boot onto her foot. After this, he began working on the other leg, helping her get into each respectable piece until she started to look like a clone trooper.

Upon completion, Hunter began to rise to his feet. He let out a small groan when he felt his knees popping, but he ignored the aching pain. He stood at his full height, towering over her. He held up the final piece into view.

"I'm not wearing that," Y/n stated with the most unamused look on her face.

"It's a codpiece," Hunter explained.

"I know what it is. I am not putting it on," Y/n said with a shake of the head.

"You won't pass as a clone if you're not wearing it," Hunter argued. This wasn’t convincing enough for her. "It would look even weirder if you weren't wearing it."

"He's right," Tech's unwanted opinion came out of nowhere.

"Fine," Y/n grumbled in slight defeat. She stopped him before he could go down on his knees again. She took the codpiece out of his grasp. "But I'll put it on myself."

"As you wish," Hunter gave up easily with hands raised in defense.

Fitting the final piece, Y/n put her hands out to show off her new black clone armor She looked at each of the clones for their thoughts about how she appeared. She most certainly could pass for a clone with the exception of the missing helmet.

"Woah! You look just like us," Wrecker exclaimed with a broad smile on his face.

"That's kinda the point," Crosshair mumbled beside him.

"Not without this," Echo jumped in. He tossed a spare helmet over to her, which she caught awkwardly. She surveyed the helmet, staring down where the eyepiece was.

"Who's helmet is this? Another one of Echo's pieces?" Y/n wondered.

"It's actually one of my old ones," Hunter confessed. He scratched the back of his neck.

"Oh," Y/n nodded. She now saw the resemblance between his old and new helmet. "I see."

Stepping forward, Hunter took the helmet out of her hands. He turned the helmet around and raised it above her head. He lowered it onto her until her face disappeared behind it. He kept his hands on the sides.

"This okay?" Hunter asked.

"Yeah," Y/n's voice came through the modulator. He slowly removed his hands from the helmet, but her gaze remained on him. "Thanks," Y/n spoke softly.

Putting distance between them, Hunter went back to his brothers' side. He rifled through the craft one final time, looking for an old holster for a blaster. He pulled out a regular black one before handing it over to Tech.

"This is the final piece," Tech explained to her. He fitted the belt around her waist so that the holster fell over the side of her thigh.

"A holster?" Y/n questioned.

"For your blaster," Tech said while briefly glancing up at her.

"I don't carry a blaster," Y/n informed him.

"It's just for today. It's all for looks. You won't have to use it," Hunter chimed in. His arms were crossed over his chest.

Next, Tech took one of his own spare blasters out of his backpack. He handed the weapon to her for which she held for a second. She examined the weapon carefully, rotating it. She slid it right into the holster at her side, bringing the disguise to completion.

Upon leaving the main building, the Bad Batch began walking down the street and blended into the crowd of citizens. They made sure to keep their eyes open, realizing that an unexpected attack could occur at any given time. Not only was the senator a target, there was also a high chance that the other members that become recognizable targets for the unknown shooter.

Walking through the crowd, Y/n quickly came to realize how little passing people were looking at them. They still got the occasional glances from some, but that was obviously because of their unique clone features.

The senator and sergeant were currently walking a few steps ahead of the small squad. They picked up their own conversation.

"It's weird being unrecognizable to people in public," Y/n whispered to the sergeant striding beside her. She remembered what she was wearing though.

"Clones are everywhere," Hunter explained to her. "We all look the same so people don't need to look twice at something they've already seen."

"Well, not all of you look the same." Though she was wearing a helmet, he was able to hear the smile in her voice.

"Which is often a downside," Hunter stated. "Because then, people look."

"I'm sorry," Y/n spoke with true sincerity in her tone.

"We didn't ask to be made," Hunter replied. "But our differences...we see them as a bit of a perk. Even though they make us outcasts."

The small group had just managed to round the corner of the street, heading in one direction. The others didn't seem the least bit interested in the conversation. Instead, they focused their attention on their surroundings for added precaution.

"What's it like to have heightened senses? I imagine a place as busy as Coruscant is hard to endure," Y/n took note.

"I've...grown accustomed to it," Hunter hinted. It wasn't just Coruscant that he had grown attuned to.

"I'm sure you'll be glad once it's behind you," Y/n breathed a long sigh.

For a moment, Hunter contemplated her choice of words carefully. While she had redirected her attention back towards the sidewalk in front of her, he found himself staring at her profile.

"Have you ever thought about it?" Hunter inquired.

She glanced up at him. "About what?"

"Leaving this place?" He gestured to the grand skyscrapers.

"Well, this is my home. I was born here and I grew up here. I rarely leave unless for business matters." She seemed to shrug her shoulders. "It's a bit like Kamino for you."

The sergeant remained silent.

"Kamino is your home, is it not?" Y/n pressed. She now peered up at him with curious eyes.

"That's where they made us, trained us." Hunter agreed. His voice grew solemn as he spoke truthfully. "But it's not much like a real home. We spend more time on our ship than we do back there."

"If you did settle down--after the war, where would you go?" Y/n shifted the direction of the conversation in attempts of making it more lighthearted. She waited for his answer patiently.

"Never really thought about it," Hunter shrugged. "Never imagined a life outside the war."

"I'm sure it'll end soon," Senator Rayna often spoke with optimism. "For me, if I were to leave the planet, I'd want to go somewhere quiet."

Hunter released a small chuckle at this. "Coruscant too busy for you?"

"Always moving," Y/n insisted upon it. She watched her foot be placed in front of the other. The two of them grew silent for a moment. That was until she spoke up again: "Maybe there'd be a beach."

"You want to live on a beach?" Hunter wondered.

"I've never been to the beach," Senator Rayna corrected him. She spoke with such a dreamy voice as if she was envisioning it now. "I'd just like to relax in the silence and listen to the waves crashing."

"That does sound nice," the sergeant agreed with a small nod of the head.

"You think it's silly."

"I think it's good to have dreams," Hunter altered.

In that exact moment, Hunter felt her arm brush against his own, which made him realize how close they were walking together. They both lowered their gazes to the ground. They seemed to enjoy the silence between them because it wasn't awkward at all.

Unbeknownst to them, the others had been watching their exchange with curious eyes. However, they weren't really able to hear the conversation clearly. They only heard the senator laughing a few times at something he'd said. All this to say that they looked at one another with the same look on their faces. A face that read: "There is something going on between them."

"I'll take you to the beach one day," Hunter offered quietly.

Her head snapped up to look directly at him. "You would?"

The sergeant nodded his head silently in agreement. He promised her: "Just the two of us."

"I'd like that," Y/n confessed sheepishly.

As the two of them walked alongside each other, their shoulders would occasionally brush together. Barely any words were further exchanged between the two, which resulted in a tender silence falling over them. They each felt this giddy bubbly feeling in the pits of their stomachs.

Ever so gently, Hunter felt the back of his hand graze against hers. This happened a handful of other times as they toured the streets of the city. He tried to see her reaction when it happened through the corner of his eye, but she never pulled away from him.

After a while, Hunter gathered the smallest amount of courage to tease the back of her hand with his pinky finger. He was testing the waters, half expecting it to go rather poorly for him. But he once again found that she remained silent and didn't withdraw from him.

Slowly, Hunter curled that single finger to hook around her own. He held it as gently as possible in fear of breaking it. He waited with a sharp breath held in his chest. But she never pulled away.

Feeling contact only ignited a burning flame in the pit of her stomach, resulting in the heat rising to her face. Her heart began to flutter like a hummingbird's wings and her smile only grew wider under her helmet. She wanted nothing more than to link the rest of their fingers together until they were properly holding hands, but she knew she wouldn't be able to.

For now, Y/n would have to be content with this. And she truly was.

By the time evening had come, Senator Rayna was safely back at her own place. She worked on the finishing touches of her speech, changing a few things to her liking. A sound knock came from her bedroom door and she invited them in without thought.

Naturally, Echo had pushed the door open in a silent manner. He was the only one on duty for tonight, which meant he was stationed at her door for the next couple hours. He held a small pile of papers with his good hand.

"These came for you," Echo explained. He stole a quick glance at the paper on the top.

"Bring 'em over," Y/n encouraged with a wave of her hand. He strode across the room, setting the stack of papers down on the desk beside her speech.

"I'll leave you to it," Echo dismissed himself. He knew that she was close to finishing her speech and would prefer to work alone. He walked back to the entrance of her room, shutting the door behind him. His hand lingered on the handle as he tried to process what he had seen on the top of the pile.

Now alone in the room, Y/n's eyes had shifted to the small stack on her right side. The paper on the top of the pile had red ink that indicated where it came from and it's utmost importance. It was an application form which came from the Coruscant Guard.

The Coruscant Guard had sent this to inform her of available troopers in their rank. This was something that they were unable to offer her a couple weeks ago when she really needed the escort. Now, things had changed.

The only thing she'd need to do was fill out the application for a new escort. The Coruscant Guard would take the time to process her application, eventually sending a new set of guards to accompany her like they had beforehand.

An issue arose with this. If the senator were to receive new guards, that meant her current escort would be transferred. They'd return to the front lines, heading back to the war. She contemplated her next step.

At first, Senator Rayna thought about the small squad that had grown on her the past couple weeks. She figured that they'd probably prefer to return to the war effort. They were much too gifted to be stuck escorting her around the city. Their skills had so much value, guaranteeing success in the war. They'd want her to fill out the application. They could go back to all the action; that's what they liked.

For some unknown reason, Senator Rayna's mindset began to shift into a more selfish one. She told herself how she'd never felt more safe than when this squad was beside her, remembering how the last two guards had been killed protecting her. And she thoroughly enjoyed their company...one more than the rest.

Taking the application in her hands, Y/n made a final decision. She tossed the piece of paper into the drawer of her desk. Without this, the Coruscant Guard wouldn't send a new escort to her aid and the Bad Batch would remain with her in the meantime. This is what she wanted.

CHAPTER FIVE HERE

Taglist:

@justhavingsomefun1 @totally-not-your-babe @jedipoodoo @gyllord @roam-rs @totallyunidentified @redheadgirl @mrcaptainrex @whore-of-many-hot-men @graciexmarvel @qweenrogerina @arcsimper5 @queenofspades6 @cadihyo @jediknightjana @elthoughtzos @lokigirlszendaya

This felt like a longer chapter but I did take out one scene where Hunter helps her take off the armor (lot of sexual tension there). Let me know if I should still post the now deleted scene!

#the bad batch #star wars #the clone wars #clone trooper hunter #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x senator #crosshair #echo #tech #wrecker #the marauder ship #tbb hunter series #tbb hunter fluff #tbb hunter angst #tbb hunter x fem!reader senator

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ghostofskywalker · 7 months

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One Night To Change Everything

Commander Wolffe/Fem!Reader

Fictober Day 13 of 31

Words: 827

Summary: To everyone else around him, Wolffe's affections for you were as clear as the highest-grade Corellian Vodka. It was just the commander that needed a little help to see it.

Clone Troopers Masterlist

Wolffe didn’t have romantic feelings. He was a high-ranking commander in the Grand Army of the Republic, he just didn’t have the time for them. And he certainly didn’t have feelings for the 104th’s civilian administrator, no matter what Sinker and Boost tried to say to him.

It wasn’t that he hated you, that couldn’t be further from the truth, but he didn’t do romance. Not only could clones get into a lot of trouble if they were caught engaging in romantic relationships, but he never even considered that with you. You were someone he thought of as a friend, and yes, you were very beautiful, but he didn’t have those kinds of feelings for you.

Or at least, that’s what he told the men under his command every single time one of them said something about how Wolffe needed to “make a move.”

They had practically dragged him to 79’s after you had agreed to go out and let loose for a little while they were on leave, and there really was no use trying to back out. Sinker and Boost were excellent on the battlefield, and their iron courage also extended to going head-to-head with their commanding officer. Plus, if he was being truly honest with himself, he enjoyed nights out with his men, and he wanted to make sure that you were safe as well. Maybe that last part wasn’t the whole truth, but it was all he was willing to admit right now.

But that pointed self-ignorance didn’t last long, because as he sat in the booth at 79’s and watched as you were approached by several of his brothers from different battalions, Wolffe finally had to admit that maybe Sinker and Boost were right about how he felt about you. It certainly didn’t help that you had left behind the drab officer’s grays that he had always seen you wearing while on the flagship. Your outfit now was in no way inappropriate for the setting, but it suited you in a way that the Republic-issued uniforms would never be able to hold a candle to, and he couldn’t stop staring.

Fantasies passed through his head of finally taking your hand and kissing you. They were more intoxicating than the drink in front of him, but there was still something that kept him from acting on those feelings. Maybe it was fear of getting rejected by you, the fear of what might happen to you if your romantic tryst was uncovered, or wanting to avoid the inevitable teasing of the rest of his squad, but all he could do is sit there and stare.

He didn’t even truly register the sight of you walking in his direction, but moments later you were there, taking a seat next to him in the booth. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” you said as you took a sip of your drink. “I came over here to ask you the same question actually.”

That definitely caught him off guard. “Why?”

“Because we’ve been here for half the night already and you haven’t left the booth,” you said. “I wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Most of the times we come here I stay to the background anyway, just in case anything happens.”

You nodded. “And as honorable a duty as that is, I feel bad that you’re sacrificing your night out.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I like knowing my men are safe, and it seems like they’re behaving tonight.”

You smiled, a sight that Wolffe immediately committed to memory. “That’s great news, because I really came over here to ask you for a dance.”

There was no other person in the entire galaxy that could have convinced him to leave the booth and head over to the dance floor, but he followed you like a puppy. You gently took his hand and began to slowly coax the dancer in him out from behind the shield he kept up all the times.

The music changed so many times, and with each new song he felt more comfortable. As something slower came across the speakers, you moved closer to him, and his hands found your waist. “See?” you asked, a smile on your face. “Isn’t this much more fun than sitting at that booth all night?”

“You were right.” Maybe it was the one drink he had all evening, maybe it was the euphoria of dancing with you, but he did something then that he would have never had the courage to do before. He leaned down, moving to kiss you on the cheek, but you moved at the last second, pressing your lips to his.

It was something he’d never forget, and even though he knew that his troops were likely whooping and cheering from the border of the dance floor as they watched their commander kiss the 104th’s civilian administrator, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

#ghostofskywalker.fictober #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #clone trooper x reader #commander wolffe fanfiction #star wars x reader

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other-peoples-coats · 2 years

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look I know the chips are a retcon to make the tv shows etc more child friendly and also to get around the whole 'all these characters we hope you like (so we can sell merch)? guess what, they're secretly plotting to kill Our Heros :D!' thing, but on an in-universe level.

how the fuck do the chips work. what the fuck. I'm not even talking about how they make 3m+ people all suddenly mind controlled zombie murder-bots, I mean on a purely mechanically level, how the fuck do they work. what in the goddamn fuck kind of latency prevention do they have.

Skeevy sheevy calls Cody*, who is on the ass end of the fucking galaxy, and is like 'execute genocide.exe, toodles'. Cody then, presumably, somehow immediately transmits genocide.exe to every clone around him without saying shit - so the chips presumably have a short wave blutooth sort of ping capacity, all clones are wifi-enabled all the time - and then also presumably somehow transmits the genocide.exe order to like. the rest of his command? which is like half the GAR?? fast enough that it beats, presumably, jedi to jedi communication about 'what the fuck I'm getting murdered???', aka the whole wave of death in the force thing. Skeevilicious also (maybe?) calls other high level commanders - unclear if everyone gets the personal touch vis-à-vis names or if cody is just the Most Specialist Boy --fast enough to, again, beat the reply-all via the force that RE:Hey Rancid Vibes And Death Mostly Death. One has to assume the other commanders are also on the ass ends of the galaxy, but like, different ones, because of the whole galaxy spanning war thing.

Like the lag has to be approaching nothing. Instantaneous deployment across the entire fucking galaxy, or close enough to not really matter, plus some level of short wave chip-to-chip ping that requires no verbal component, given we see cody take the call from ol' mate skeev and then immediately successfully order the 212th to merk their general without a moment's hesitation from anyone.

what the fuck kind of magic ass tech runs the chips. forget the force, the real scifi magic is the communications capabilities in the GFFA.

*also side bar, moment of hilarity that the skeev-meister knows cody's name and uses it. Like lets be fucking real, our pal friendpatine does not think of the clones as people, but also, chances are that he's spent so fucking long pretending 'oh yes the clones need rights anakin soon as the war wraps up the terrible senate won't let them but not me I'm not like those other politicians' that it's just fucking habit at this point. Bro might not even fucking know cody's damn cc number to start with. which is actually funnier than it being habit to use his name - diversity win, the sith lord turning you into a zombie-muder machine to genocide a whole ass culture uses your chosen name, purely because he doesn't know how else to call you!

#gffa meta #order 66 #like. kind of.#coats chats #coats originals #anyway yes this is the sort of thing that keeps me up at night #logistics in the gffa have to be fucking insane. insane.#how the fuck does the holonet even work. like how the fuck do you do a holocall from more than a planet away.#it takes EIGHT FUCKING MINUTES for light from the SUN to REACH EARTH #EIGHT MINUTES. and that's in the same fucking solar system!!!#AT LIGHTSPEED.#every fucking holocall has to have a lag of like.#nine years. at least.#like ino it's the requirements of scifi ssshh but also EIGHT MINUTES AT LIGHTSPEED #how the fuuuuuuck does anyone have real time conversations via holonet.

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punk-in-docs · 2 years

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🕷Your web,I’m caught🕷

Eddie Munson x Pencils (OC) slow burn series, Part I

7.6k words

Summary: Snorting laughter at the disappearing Jocks back. Marlboro red clamped between his lips. Smoke slithering out his smile. Between the cracks of his straight teeth.

When you saw who it belonged too. The laugh. The cigarette smoke.You weren’t even suprised.

Who else could it be-Who else would be doing a drug deal on the outskirts of a high school party, in the woods, at almost eleven at night, but Eddie “the freak” Munson.

Authors note; So, I wrote this because I probably have Eddie Munson brain rot, and because I just love this funky lil freak ok? It’s kinda long. No smut (yet) I might do more parts. We shall see. ~ (any feedback or comments are very much welcome folks)

It was through Hawkins like wildfire on bone dry kindling. One spark of friction and the whole thing soared to churning flames in a hot second.

No survivors.

Kyle Rothman’s parents were going to visit family in Elwood for some big fancy party.

Anniversary, you’d heard. Funeral, someone else had bemoaned.

Eight o’clock Friday night. Kyle’s House on 1280 Abalone Drive. Bring your own beer.

This is how you found yourself bundled unwillingly into the plump passenger seat of your friend Linda’s station wagon come Friday night.

Bouncing along on the safe suburbia streets to a godawful party, peppered with the usual dumb jocks and poisonous cheerleaders. The freaks and nerds tended to stay in their own lanes. Keep well away.

Lucky fucks.

Two six pack of Coor’s sat rattling at your feet. She’d spent half an hour teasing your kinked hair all big, and persuading you to slick on some blue eyeliner and glitter. You drew the line when she approached you with this tube of waxy fuschia lipstick.

You batted her hand away with contempt and let her slip huge plastic blue earrings in your ears instead. It goes with your top. She’d chirped.

Technically, her top. It was a loaner.

Really, you’d tried so goddamned hard to weasel out of it.

You considered pulling an all nighter as an excuse. A painting you’d forgotten to do for art class. A Chem lab final. The fact you didn’t take Chem non-withstanding. Or a sudden very fast acting sick spell to dodge the draft.

Mom’s away. It’s me and Charlie. And she’s on nights now. I can’t leave the house, Linda.

Your door has locks, now doesn’t it? Don’t be square. We’re seniors. One little party to take the edge off.

I’m good with my edges the way they are, thanks.

She wore down your stubbornness with the sugary sweet relentless attitude. Harder than grainy sandpaper against your onerous mood. She won. Softened you into submission. Ground you down and drowned the fight out of you with her strong army of ‘pretty pretty pleases’.

With a heap of maraschino cherries dumped on top for good measure, she wrapped you round her little finger like a silk ribbon with promises of movie nights and lots of beer. Pizza too. And her eternal love and devotion. She promised to buy you some weed. Give you her Soul. Her first born.

She really really wanted you to go with her to this fucking party. God knows why. She’ll spend the night with her jock. Not you.

She sat next to you in the drivers seat. In her hot pink tiered skirt and skinny white high heels. Blond curls all frizzy and piled half up on her head with a pink scrunchie.

Her little lilac purse with a long strap sat perched on your hip. Containing four condoms, gloss, and a pack of lifesavers zipped securely inside.

Told you right away what kinda night she was expecting to have.

She’s brimming with energy cause her meathead is going tonight too. On the basketball team and practically a clone to High School royalty, Jason Carver. And her new squeeze is persona-non-grata with her strict parents for bringing her home once past curfew, and half cut. So this is one of the only chances they get to make out and do hand stuff in the guest bedroom.

Atleast someone’s excited for tonight. And thank god it’s her. You want to stay festering in the land of piss and vinegar with a scowl slapped on your face. Razor slashes of your glaring eyes landing on all those preppy idiots.

Because you liked to sit at an easel, armed with your mad array of bold paints and a brush. And you actually liked and were good at it. That instantly afforded you some hatred from the athlete crowd.

Linda reaches over and nudges you with a bony elbow. Knocking you out your self imposed funk. You side eye her for being a pest. She sing-songs cheery cooing words at you over husky Joan Jett on the radio. Words all prim and sickly like butter wouldn’t even melt.

“C’mmooon. There’ll be drink. I heard that Jason is bringing some of his dads liquor.” She trills away like tweetie pie.

“There’ll be a lot of jocks too. Lot of jocks on a lot of drink. They won’t know the difference between a viable mate and a wet hole in the ground.” You pointed out. Scuffing the door with the tip of your shoe. Black. Faux leather kitten heel boots.

She’d shoved those at you too. The boots. You wore the same size. Annoyingly. Instead of clinging to the comfort of your usual paint spattered reeboks. She wrinkled her nose up and tore your sneakers away from your grip. Turned away to dust more neon pink blush on her cheekbones.

“You’re gross.” She grimaced at you as she turns a corner. The bracelets on her arms slap and click together as she shuffled the wheel.

“Gross but right.” You poured back. Flicking hair out your eyes. It felt stiff and dry with all the stuff she rubbed and sprayed on it. The noxious chemical stink of too much hairspray and her candy-like Revlon perfume choked the interior of her car. You usually kept your hair back with a scrunchie. Possibly with a pencil or a paintbrush tucked into the bun.

“Just try and not be a catty bitch. Get a drink. Have a dance. Take that iron rod out your ass for once.”

“Its good for my posture.” You sniped at her as she smacked her glossy lips together in the rear view - not checking the car behind her or anything important like that.

“Pretty bad for your sex life though. Yours is particularly tragic right now.” She shot back dryly. Dry as sand and that dig was below the belt.

“Volume series tragedy is what I was actually aiming for.” You grinned at her. Layering the charm on thick.

Not letting her blows have anywhere to land. You scooped up her words and threw them back at her before the typical Linda shrapnel got it’s chance to pierce your skin.

It had been a while, sure. But that didn’t mean you were going to a kegger, to get blackout wasted, and end up dry humping the nearest small dicked athlete in a letterman two tone jacket. You liked to think you had taste. And a little modicum of class.

“You know I don’t get to see Jonny very often. Not since he made the team. I’d look like a loser turning up tonight all by myself.” She whines. Bitching. Stomping her foot on the gas pedal like a brat.

“Next thing I’ll have to start having to sit with the freaks at lunch. Christ, can you imagine?” She scoffs. “Me at the losers table with freak Munson and the rest of his social rejects.”

You gave her a look for that. Blasted her your chilly side eye for her small mindedness.

They were nerds, sure. Into D&D, metal music or band.

They weren’t lepers.

God forbid you ever said this aloud. But, you actually admired the way that some people didn’t conform to the mind numbing rules of popular or preppy. You liked that they cared enough to be themselves. Fuck what others say or think. The punk attitude clinging deep in you found it ballsy and brave.

Maybe they were all braver than you were- hiding yourself away in art class or the Library day after day instead of having to decide what table you’d be sorted onto. Or welcomed at. Chained too.

You weren’t entirely sure Linda would save you a space at the table with the royalty. You didn’t belong there. Your clothes weren’t preppy and cute. You didn’t wear bubblegum neon colours. Or trade gossip. You knew who Siouxsie and the Banshees were. That most likely tipped you into nerd territory. Loser crowd recruit.

You’re sure there’d be a place carved out, so where, for one the arty type, like you. Eternally graphite smudged hands, or flecks of paint dried gummy in your hair. Leafing through your sketchbook and scribbling away. Eyes down, plugged into your Walkman and latest Talking Heads or Smiths cassette.

“Could you be more of a stuck up snob?” You asked with rising hilarity in your voice.

“Yeah.” She preened. Slowing down to make the dreaded turn onto Kyles. Bounces the huge clunky thing onto the nearly busy, paved driveway.

“I am dating a jock now, you know.” She hums. Pleased with herself.

Your eye roll was almost audible.

“Don’t forget to wash your hands after and check for crabs.“ You bat your mascara thick lashes all sickly as you coo the words at her.

You grab the beers and grumpily make your feet leave the car. It’s a trudge but you manage it. You slam the car door because you needed to direct your still seething annoyance somewhere.

She bumps her door shut with her hip and properly wiggles her feet into her heels. Long tanned legs of hers bare and peeping out her pink skirt. A gauzy white top and swingy pink earrings stood neon out her bouffant blonde perm. You weren’t flashing nearly as much.

You wore your white leather jacket with the squeezing black and gold belt she nipped around your middle. Made your tits look awesome, and bigger, her words not yours. Her bright blue top that hangs off one shoulder. Soft black jeans and her back heeled pirate boots which click as you walk. She’d been obsessed with Adam Ant for a while.

Onto your wrists she’d threaded yet more bright jewellery. And the plastic hoops dangling from your ears, you kept on having to untangle it from your hair every four seconds. Your wavy fringe kept on flicking in your eyes.

You stand with the beer and look up at the split ranch style house in front of you. Cicadas humming already. The lawn is green and fuzzy short and the street lights cast a dozy orange thrown into pools everywhere. The house is set back and stood alone. Well spaced out from the neighbours. It backed into the tall dark woods. No risk of noise complaints.

Brown wood and overhanging eaves. It’s a big place. Each window lit up a drowsy yellow. And crowds of voices roils. The tell tale whump-whump of whatever lame ass pop music is blasting along and pulsing at the walls and shaking the windows from the inside.

You step towards the front door. Linda actually scurries along in her heels. Jason’s jeep parked right upfront means the cavemen had already descended. She fluffs her hair and grips the door handle. Slowly jerking it open. It was too loud to hear knocks anyway. The party was in full swing already.

The first thing you do when you come inside? Wince.

Club Tropicana is bellowing loudly through the house on what is very clearly very deafening speakers. The drum beats drown your ears. The thrum of the base plucks the air. You feel the thud of it through the thick squashing carpet.

Someone’s made a vain attempt to party up the place. Twinkle lights glimmer in the living room where many bodies are dancing and throwing hands in the air. Fierce chilli red. Neon green. Sapphire sea blue, spots of light dotted and swimming around the dark ceiling where the lights were poorly tacked. Last minute attempt you’re guessing.

Red cups sloshing drink everywhere. Half drunk beer cans and bottles stood on every flat surface. Some toppled over and leaking dark dribbled spots into the carpet. The dank smell of cigarettes and some musty weed clouds the air.

High schoolers are strewn across the couch. Some making out. Two seconds from dry humping right in the open. Some were chatting. Laughing at their own drunkness. Crowding the narrow hallways.

Linda scans around the crowds. Flirtily shimmying her fingers in a wave when she sees her Jock. She almost bounces on the spot. Giddy smile splitting her lipstick.

Her boyfriend lumbers across and you’re quickly forgotten on the doormat. She takes her purse off you. And one of the six packs.

“Bye?” You state to her with a frown as she preened and laughed as they joined hands.

“Find you later.” She breezed. Her smile was so wide. Cheeks full of blush. Fake and real.

“Wrap it before you tap it.” You growl at her. Narrowing your eyes to pin slits. She flips you the bird when she totters off after her gorilla in basketball threads.

Not four seconds later they’re wrapped around each other like leeches. Tongues down throats. Waxy glossy lipstick all over their chins. He whispers something in her ear when they break apart and they wind through crowds headed for the stairs. Beer forgotten. She’s giggling he’s got a shit eating grin on.

That had taken all of eight seconds past your feet crossing the doormat before your abandonment.

When Four Tops starts blasting. You’ve decided; you must seek out some liquor. You can’t be forced to suffer this indignity of a night in any kind of sobriety.

You growl to yourself. Your mood just plummeted so way far down it could be in the South Pole by now. A pit of acid and spiky nails and broken glass was your stomach. Mood went from foul to fouler.

Armed with one six pack, you heft your way to the kitchen. Pushing past dancers and athletes that line the doorways. Elbow past a couple very loudly making out. They don’t even notice your shouldering byYour reward for basically commando busting your way through crowds is the sight of the kitchen. For some reason the lights are off and purple lights are drowning the room. The colour of Lilac and moody nightshade bruises. A huge bowl of ruby red punch half gone sits on the island. Spiked no doubt. Fine by you.

Liquor bottles stand with tops ripped off, cheap whiskey and vodka. Beer kegs on rosy towels on the floor in the far corner. Red solo cups are scattered everywhere. Crushed, used and not. Chips are half eaten in a messy bowl. Popcorn too. Spilled all over the place. You didn’t envy the cleanup.

You grab a clean one and dunk it into the punch. It spills down your fingers and you suck the drips away. Sip some. The terrific cheap sugar of something that tasted like it was trying to be fruity, combined with the bitchy bite of vodka. Perfect.

You lean against the counter and nurse a cup. You dive back for another. The first slipped down way too easily. Cherry red staining your tongue. Vodka seeping into your legs and arms with its lazy sluggish heat.

You wrap one arm around yourself and stand leaning against the counter. The granite dug into the back of your hips painfully.

Some Basketball jocks who barely lift their eyes to regard you as a form of life, bustle rudely past and knock into you. Sloshing your cup to spill down your top. Drink rolls in drips off your chin.

“Watch it loser.” One of them drunkenly snickers at you. Tossed the words carelessly over his shoulder as they go to draw more shitty beer from the keg. His friend laughed at his crass remark to you.

Fuckin meatheads.

You scoff under your breath. Mood sour you slam your hand down on a can of beer and take your still somewhat full cup out the back door you can see left wide open the other side of the island.

You mumble a curse word at them loud enough to hear as you slip past. “Pricks.” You catch one of their hands with their cups so they drop it by surprise.

“Bite me, babe.” One slurs. Leaning over and holding the handle. Opening his arms at you like some twisted invitation. His gruff words didn’t threaten you.

You turn your head and spit words at them. Eyes narrow under your frizzy fringe. The drink helping get your tongue bold.

“Go find some balls to play with. Idiots” you snipe as you feel the delightful sensation of stepping out the house and into the dark back yard.

You brandish the V’s at them with your fingers and your chipped blue nail polish as you slip out the door and into the mild night. Shoes clicking down the steps. You hear their sneers as you leave.

“Stupid bitch.”

You walk around the perimeter of the pool. You don’t want to know why there’s floating beer cans and a bikini top strewn at the bottom.

You keep walking. Your feet only just unsteady. Out towards the very far back of the yard. The dark border of the trees seemed threatening. Huge towering trunks and dark leafy tips barely grazed by the starlight. Silent sentinels of night. No light snuck back here. Barely any orange light from the street or the rooms of Kyles house reaches all the way out here.

There’s ratty lawn chairs and a couple of empty cans rattling around on the lawn. Evidence that some people were partying here before you. But went back inside to dance or drink. Or went into the huge woods looming just behind you for some clandestine privacy. Or to try and scope out a bedroom.

You take your jacket off and spread it beneath you before you settle down on the end of a blue lounger. The plastic creaks with your weight. Sinks just a bit into the spongy grass. You sit yourself down and take your first deep breath.

You look at that busy house down the slope of the garden. The trash floating in the blue square sear of the pool. The windows limned in yellow. Crowds jump and burst within. Many voices and thudding party pop carry out to you. It’s a Madonna song now. Drifting up the grass that freckled, speckled with slithers of ochre light from the street. The other half carved in dark linear shadows.

You were drunk. Slightly. Not wanting to be here. Definitely. On the peripheral like a distant planet in orbit. Trying to find the place you could belong too. You didn’t know if you ever would. For some people it seemed damn easy. The need to fit. To be.

You had your art. Your drawings. Your craving for your Walkman and the solace of your music and what that bought you. Your job at the record store which you live love loved. Even though your boss, Sal, who was mercurial and was all cynical-moody as anything. But underneath that crusty exterior he was good to you. You still loved it.

You had a sad set of dreams pushed back, way back, nesting under your skin.

One day maybe if you were very lucky, you’d be far outta this town living them dreams. You sure as shit hoped so.

It wasn’t so bad. When all was said and done, at the very least, you didn’t just melt into an easy personality to please other people. Slap on a fake persona to get others to like you. Paste it on every morning. Beam a smile and wear things falsely. You couldn’t bear being that shallow just to have girlfriends to chit chat with at lunch. You couldn’t live that way.

When you tip your head back. You find yourself all of a sudden laying back. Body dizzy. Mind swirling. That punch was strong. You suspect it wasn’t just vodka. Maybe some tequila thrown in there too. You drank it too quick to decipher.

You don’t fight the movement. Spreading back. You can see stars. The majesty of the heavens. All those endless scattered white pearls that wink and shimmer in the endless blue between spots of murky smeared cloud.

After a long minute, you sit up to keep on knocking back your drinks.

You toss back more red vodka punch and don’t stop until the cup is empty. Red dregs. The wonderful snap of vodka makes you hiss through the sting as you finish it.

Nothing is stopping you tonight. One down, then you’re cracking open the cold beer. The satisfying hiss and the hoppy cheap mist spurts over your fingers.

“Here’s to edges.” You toast your beer up to no one. “Mine in particular.”

Your head felt fuzzy. Your tongue loose. You welcomed the sensation. Let it bleed through you and unwind the taut bowstring of your tension. You could really use a smoke right about now. You have to hide them at home. Charlie wouldn’t approve.

You swig the beer. It’ll have to do. It’s definitely cheap and tasted like it. But it’s cold and you just need to unwind your tightening steel wire spool of anger.

Fucking Linda. Fucking Jocks. Dragging you here only to ditch you in favour of sucking face and now probably busy right now sucking other body parts with her gorilla of a boyfriend.

You kick one of the crumpled cans on the lawn with your pirate booted foot. The resounding crunch and rattle comes off far far louder than you’d thought. Knocking off into the trees. Bouncing back like a slap, off the house.

It’s then you hear that maybe you didn’t have as much privacy as you had previously thought.

An odd sort of whispered hissing starts growing louder. The steady crunch of a twig being broken underfoot. Rustling of brittle paper leaves under a sneakered foot. The distant tang of Marlboro smoke curling around the trees.

Someone. Or more than one someone, was in the woods behind you.

The voice comes again. Deep enough to be a guys. Pitchy enough to still be a whisper. “The fuck was that?”

Another voice answers. Louder. Confident. Whispers not tamping down his volume. His tone is mocking.

“Look man, I don’t have all night. Quit wasting my time. 25 for a half ounce. Or I walk away right now and take the sweet stuff with me.”

Your drunk head strains to hear more. You lean further back. Like that will make one scrap of difference. You slosh down more beer and listen through the breeze ruffling the imposing wall of trees.

You hear some more rustling. The unsteady shuffling of feet. A sighed huff. The slap of something into an open palm.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” The sarrcy confidence voice answers. There’s a soft rustling of a plastic baggie.

“Whatever, freak.” Comes the grumble.

“My, my, Such manners. You kiss your mommy with that mouth.” Sneers back the voice. Lilt of humour and sarcasm composing his words.

You turn your head back to see someone break out the shadow swallow of the tree line. A guy in a letter man jacket breaks away and stalks drunkenly through the garden on wobbling legs. Shoving something like a crinkly plastic bag down deep into his pocket. Green and white baseball cap backwards on his head.

He doesn’t seem to notice you sat in your spot. When you raise your beer to take another sip your movement catches his eye. He almost trips over his own feet. Frowns at you.

“What you staring at, loser?” He barks grumpily at you. Bit his teeth around the insult.

You don’t offer a response. You swallow your retort down.

Something about pot making you lose brain cells, him not being so stupid as to take the risk. Needs all the help he can get.

You kinda hate yourself for staying silent But you let it go. You chug more beer. And just try and sit here and not feel.

He turns back and lumbers his stupid way back towards the house. Feet stomping over empty beer cans. You swallow down more beer and watch the party continue on without you.

Apparently, so was someone else.

A sudden flick coming from behind you makes you startle. Twisting back. A lighter being struck to life as this amazingly noiseless person behind you finally came out the tree line.

“That was one hell of a charming duuude.” Mocked the voice. Snorting laughter at the disappearing Jocks back. Marlboro red clamped between his lips. Smoke slithering out his smile. Between the cracks of his straight teeth.

When you saw who it belonged too. You weren’t even suprised. Who else could it be-

Who else would be doing a drug deal on the outskirts of a high school party, in the woods, at almost eleven at night, but Eddie “the freak” Munson.

The undisputed ruler of the geeks table in the cafeteria. Adored by his crowd of younger freshmen. His followers. His little band of devoted lost sheep. Recruited to the dark side to play his sadistic D&D campaigns. This older senior who was always gilded in chunky metal rings, chain bracelets, and rock and roll.

Something about him from afar shrieked messy danger; whether it was the careless swagger he walked with, or the unpredictability of when he’d burst into something crazy or unstable.

Climb on tables, throw food, shout at the top of his lungs with his hands cupped beside his mouth. Antagonise Jason and his pack of Jocks every chance he got. Spray paint ‘Hail Satan’ in glaring neon red across Principal Higgins door like he did last semester.

That last one was technically a rumour that it was him who did it, but you still kinda believed it to be dead true. It seemed his style.

He saw how you’d sprang around to look at him. Heart kicking in your chest as he made you jump.

“Sorry. Shit. Didn’t mean to startle you there.” He held his hands up. Skull bandana in his back pocket flapping against his ripped jeans. Orange tip of the cigarette burned bright like an evil eye in the dark. Lighting up his face and his pillowy lips.

His earlier cocky confidence seemed to have been flipped away, perhaps as a sign of how genuinely he meant his words.

You watch him slowly saunter across to where you’re sat. Nimble footsteps on the soft grass in his sneakers. The only noise coming from how the chain on his jeans swung into his legs. The zips and some of the metal badges on his jacket shining dully in the night air.

The deep tar pit of those black eyes tugged you in. The frizzy rockstar mane curling down to his shoulders. Sticky Ink black, echoing the shade of his eyes. The messy cut of his Jean jacket draped over leather. That blood red demon blazoned on his white raglan Hellfire Club t-shirt - you’d never seen him wear anything else.

“You’re the least scary thing I’ve come across tonight. Trust me.” You tell him. Sipping more beer. Hearing it slick around against the sides of the can.

You weren’t sure why but him being here had you on edge. You didn’t get nervous walking through a whole house of preppy morons. But here, now, you notice nervousness crunching down on your stomach.

Why nervous?

Not because you were scared of him. You felt safer alone with him out here than any of those knuckle-heads inside.

You think in some warped kinda way you wanted to impress him-

Ok, where in the cursed fucking pits of hell had that proclivity bloomed from?

He stops a decent distance away from you. You couldn’t quite read the expression on his face. He was looking at you warily.

You stared at the grass below your borrowed pointy leather shoes and the half empty warm beer in your hands.

“Are you, uhm. Alright?” He seeks. Gone was the earlier plucky confidence. His voice is fully tender.

“Oh I’m just peachy, thanks.” You smite nicely at him. Voice dripping dark sarcasm.

Those wild black eyes narrow with more concern.

“Sure about that?” He checks. Voice tipping up. Smoke exhaling from his mouth.

You summon the courage to look over at him. Bewildered.

He explains by tapping his finger twice under his eye. Still looking intrigued.

You shrink in self consciously. Folding in. Wipe under your eyes. When you bring back your hand, mascara sits weepy and smeared on your finger. Probably running under your eyes a little in your annoyed frustration. You hadn’t realised.

You sniff and wipe your eyes. Who cares anyway. No one was looking at your makeup. They weren’t bothered with you. That stung. But it was true.

Eddie was the first person to actually acknowledge you as a fully fleshed human being. To actually speak to you.

“It’s nothing. Really.” You assure him. Smiling mildly. Unable to believe the guy who had the words loser and freak tossed at him like bullets every damn day is asking you if you’re okay.

“Don’t worry I’m not so wasted that I’m out here sobbing by myself. You don’t have to deal with an emotional girl.” You consider your mood. “Maybe a pissed off one though-“ You added softly.

You loosened your grip on your beer. Flicking your fringe out your eyes again.

“Hey-“ He starts. And it’s so sweetly tender it makes your lungs skip. His voice seems to deepen a little from that anarchistic shriek and shout you often hear from him.

You peer over under your kinked fringe. He thinks how freakin adorable it looks on you. Hits him like a freakin clap of lightning.

Your hair all wild and teased, back combed to hell, and then those eyes. Doe, bambi, sparkling eyes shining in the dark. Side of your face caught all caramel smooth in the peachy-orange light from the street. Despite the smudged eye makeup blacking under your eyes, actually, he kinda likes that dark smouldering look.

You’re fucking pretty.

Fancy that. Eddie Freak Munson talking to a real pretty girl at a High School party. What’s becoming of him?

“You’re out here drinking alone, sweetheart. I just put two and two together is all. My mistake.” He admits sheepishly. Meshing his fingers together as he spoke. Animated. You watched the way his rings glinted in the darkness. Cig wobbling on his lips as he spoke.

“Well. It’s coming out four. Munson.” You admitted gently.

Your very girlish instincts did a little elated hop with the way he called you sweetheart. Those idiots inside had called you a bitch and loser. He had called you sweetheart-

“You know my name.” He grinned all boyish. Hands on his hips, clasping onto a belt that had a handcuff buckle.

“Colour me impressed.” He flits a wink at you. “I didn’t know we were on a surname basis.”

“You’re the local troublemaker and weed dealer. Of course I know your name.” You answer. You didn’t live under a rock.

“Mommy and Daddy have my picture pinned on the dart board at home, huh sweetie?” He tilts his head again and grins all wide and playful. Framing his face with his thumbs and hands like a mock photograph. Smoking cig trickling lazily up to the sky.

He walks a slow circle around you on the lounger. He can’t keep still evidently. Kicking beer cans out the way. Kicks one down the slope of the lawn. Comes back around you like he’s assessing you coolly. Casually. Grey smoke trails in his wake.

Something tells you he’s almost proud of the accomplishment of being considered near infamous. Anything but the poisonous fucking trap of being considered ‘normal.’

“Yeah. They show me a picture of you every morning. Your face slapped over wanted posters serve as a warning to parents all over Hawkins county.” You joked with fake gravity. “I might be indoctrinated into your dangerous devil D&D cult if I don’t watch out.”

“I relish the chance to corrupt more innocent souls. Especially pretty ones.” He says in a mock gravelly devil voice. Sticking his tongue out at you. Widening his eyes to look scary. It makes you almost spit out a mouthful of beer for laughing.

He’s a goof under all that threatening metal persona. You suspect a soft warm heart of gold lurks under that denim and leather chest too.

You offer out the can of beer to him. “Sorry. It’s a little warm but-“

He smiles and stands for a moment. Assessing you. Eyes growing almost warm.

“Poisoned, Snow White?” He jokes.

“I don’t need that on my conscience. Not to mention the stoners in school would flay me alive for taking you out.” You comment. Waving the can out at him between two fingers.

“Sold.” He says.

He drifts in just close enough to take it from you. His rings clack against the thin metal. Crosses and skulls and all things bad bad bad and demonic adorn his hands.

“Sharing beer and we’re not even on a first name basis.” He says as he takes it and pulls back a swig.

You absolutely kick yourself for the way you watch his neck elongate from tipping his head back to drink. Hair down his back. Wavy over his shoulders.

You give him your name. First and last. It tumbled out your mouth before you could stop it. Your drunkenness sliding you right on into trouble.

He raised the can at you in a salute. Repeated your surname at you. Rolled it around his mouth. As if he was tasting it like he was the beer.

“Pleasure to meet you.” He smirked as he did a mock bow and dipped his head at you. Swigging the beer once more.

You bite your lip and wipe your clammy hands on your soft jeans as you turn away and force yourself to look at something much less- distracting. Dangerous?

You settle on looking at the house. Music still bouncing out the place. Voices spilling out boisterous. You watched a guy stumble out the back door to puke into the bushes by the kitchen window. Maybe a newbie.

Eddie saw it but ignored it. Kept his dark gaze stuck on you instead.

“How’s it you ended up out here?” He asked. Passing the can back to into your hand. You take it and cold silver rings brush your hand. Sparks skip over your skin.

“Well. Firstly the music-” You grimaced.

He chuckled archly.

“Fuckkkk I know right? This party could totally use some Motörhead.” He proclaimed.

“Or some Talking Heads.” You agreed.

His eyes lit up. “Stop making sense.” He said approvingly. You smiled at the inside joke.

“I did actually come with someone. But they ditched me before we were even in the front door. They’re upstairs right now, and probably having sex on the pile of coats in the guest room.” You estimate.

You watched Eddie’s brows raise up a little. Ballsy.

“That’s real shitty.” He states without hesitation. But that smile is creeping back.

“Tell me to get lost if it is none of my business. Sweetie. But uh, did you come here with a… boy. A boy who is maybe a friend. A boyfriend?” He seeks slowly. His head tilting. Rolling his hands as he talked. Manic sprinkled on manic.

Leaning to one side as he asked. That floppy hair leaning over his shoulder. Coming closer and making an unsure grimace as he slowly chewed over that last word. Cig at his side between two fingers.

You shake your head for no. His eyes glint a little.

No boyfriend. Knows who Talking Heads are. Goddamn it, he may have to start turning up the dial to flirt with you some point soon.

His smile turns up at the corners. How have you never noticed that under that manic rock n roll energy it’s actually such a great smile.

He takes another drag and spun away for a second to toss away his cig before it burned out. You hear the way the chains on his arms hit the leather jacket across his chest.

You clarify as to why you were here. How you were dragged along here by your teeth.

“My party friend, Linda, dragged me here. Blonde perm. No braincells, lots of leg and hormones. Idiot Jock strap for a boyfriend.” You explain.

“Alright for some.” Eddie grins at you. His eyes look sharp as black ice in the dark.

“I guess.” You smile. Stretching your feet out. “Maybe not for her though.” You snark in dirty insinuation. It makes him smile across at you.

You both laugh at your joke and it softens him a little to see it.

He spins away and suddenly hops up onto the lawn chair near to you. Flurry of energy. Standing on it and trying to keep his balance. You looked up at him where he stood. Dirty sneakers balancing on the plastic slats.

“I swear I do know you from some place.” He says. A calculative look on his face. He repeats your surname again. Tasting it in his mouth. Arms now crossed over his chest. He leans towards you so slightly. Bending down.

“Uh, School?” You state obviously.

He clicks his tongue. Looks mischievous. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

That figures, actually.

“Big building. Students. Teachers. Classrooms. Finals.” You explain.

He’s walking up the lounger. Testing precarious steps on the cracking plastic. “It’s vaguely familiar to me.” The chain on his leg swings again with his steps.

“We had a history together in middle school. Mrs Grey’s class.” You offer. Though he’d looked different then, his mannerisms weren’t dissimilar to now.

Just now he had the demon tats and rocker hair to back it up.

“We did?” He questions. Or states. He’s unsure. Or testing the waters. You can’t tell. His mystery is his charm. Unreadable expression.

You remember some of his antics. You doubt he’d ever turned his eyes toward the classroom board even once the whole semester.

On the days he deigned to turn up, he usually spent more time scribbling his own little lyrics or campaign ideas over the assignment paper he’d been given on his desk. Or drawing devils, monsters and skulls with leering forked tongues, in a thick stubby sharpie. He took tormenting your teacher as a personal mission.

Any time he was called on, he answered with bite, with wit and a - deeply buried disguised - degree of intelligence that meant he could walk this class - if he really, really wanted too. You found it almost admirable. It was almost enough to make you develop a crush on him.

His dislike for conformity and following the establishment rules had him cemented as this jagged little pill of a troubled guy who couldn’t care less about school. Or grades. People looked at him and saw no more than trailer trash trouble. The rebel Munson kid who lives in the trailer park off Kerley.

“I’m memorable from all the way back then?” He asks. Doubting he was even worth remembering from last week. Let alone going back years.

“Yeah. You made me laugh.” You tell him bravely.

Whether it was the way he snuck in late, or asked to borrow a pencil. Threw balled up pieces of paper at the popular crowd to antagonise. Made stupid distorted faces behind Mrs Grey’s back. Contradicted her til she was red in the face.

“I sat behind you, didn’t I?” He remembered. Then he snaps his fingers. His chain leather bracelet jangles. “Pencil girl.”

You nod. “Nice nickname.”

He drops suddenly in a jump to the ground. Burst of energy. Sits himself facing you on the end of the lounger. Knees spread. Holds out a flat hand to you to shake.

“Nice to properly meet you again. Pencil girl.” He grins at you.

You blush. You actually feel your blush crawl it’s molten way up your cheeks. Eddie Munson is offering his ring clad hand out for you to shake.

You meet his eyes as you look over and take it. Slip you palm into his warm one. Clutch of metal surrounding your fingers as you shake. The brackets on your arms clack together as you jerk your arm.

“Nice to properly meet you too, Eddie.” You grin.

His eyes look warm as he beams at you. Those dark eyes all melting and dark liquid chocolate in their gaze. Your knees almost brush his ripped jean kneecaps where you’re leant over to shake his hand.

He seems awfully unconcerned about letting go of your hand any time soon.

Because he’s come closer to you, you can smell the beer on his breath and the the sharp acrid of cigarettes woven into his clothes. Along with some faintly tangy scent of weed, powdery laundry detergent.

Up close he’s even more terrifying. Those wild eyes bordered in shade by that even wilder tangle of hair.

“How come I rarely see you around. Pencil girl.” He asks genuinely. Sliding his hand out of yours at last. When you break away to look at his hand sliding off yours, you only realise then you’d been staring.

“Well I do actually go to my classes.” You tease.

He clutched over his heart like he’d been pierced with a mortal wound. Choked, Gasped your name.

“Mean.” He grins. Those melting eyes turn all puppyish. Holding the space over his heart like it hurt.

“I guess I mostly live in the Art classroom at school. Or the library. That’s where I am most days. Most lunches and my free periods.” You tell him.

He smirks. You can’t tell what that means.

“You’re telling me you’re secretly one of us.” He lowers his voice to a whisper.

You frown. Oh it’s a good look on you. It bunches up little wrinkles between your brows.

“One of us?”

“A freak.” Eddie grins. His grin slowly grows.

“Is that an official diagnosis? Dungeon master?” You ask him.

Twisting to fully face him where you sit on the lounger. You feel Linda’s top slide down your shoulder. Your bra strap is showing. Eddies eyes flick to it for the barest second.

“Totally. I hereby brand thee. Fellow freak. Pencil girl. Welcome to the club.” He puts his hands over his hair, mimes placing a crown on your head. Arms outstretched around your head. Surrounding your puffed up hair.

You smile. The scent of warm old leather and cigarettes smacks you in the nose. He waved his fingers either sides of your temples. Your stomach squirms. Butterflies kicked to life.

He’s a freak. And a goof. And so are you.

And, oh christ, you think you might like him-

“Great. So when’s my swearing in ceremony. What do we do? Sacrifice virgins or goats, what?” You play around.

“Friday nights. I’m afraid the sacrificing of virgins is messy. But necessary.” He waggles his brows. Trying to look serious. You doubt he ever looked serious in his life.

You snort. You can’t help it. You cover your mouth. He shakes with laughter too. Chest bouncing with it.

Your head is swimming drunk and you can only just believe you’re sat out here shooting the shit with Eddie Munson of all people.

And for once in your life, you’re enjoying one of these terrible shitty parties.

The new music dancing across the lawn catches Eddies ears. The mellow base and chirpy singing.

He rolls his eyes over to the house in disgust. ‘Just the two of us’ is crooning across the lawn. Tacky. Saxaphone riff, and Bill Withers smooth whiskey-dulcet voice.

“I’m gonna be puking in the bushes soon if they carry on with that shit.” He nudged his head across to the open door. The golden rectangle of the kitchen door that glowed in the night. Spilling light up the slanted yard.

“I think, my friend isn’t going to be surfacing any time soon.” You wince at the thoughts and all that could possibly entail. Whether or not she’d bother to come find you. Skirt twisted around her waist. Lipstick all smeared around her puffy mouth. Hair mushed. Cheeks glowing.

You should go and find her. But- you really don’t want too. Nothing could move you from this lounger.

“I should go back inside.” You say out loud. You stay stock still.

Eddie shoots you a look. Disbelieving.

“Listen. Anyone who sits on the outskirts of this fuckin idiotic makeout party and listens to Talking Heads is plenty alright with me. You’re better off.” He points a thumb into his Hellfire clad chest when he says ‘me’.

Where his t-shirt was disturbed, you see a dark triangle of a guitar pick on a necklace around his neck. Some ink on his skin. You want to see just exactly where those tats end and begin.

Your gaze is drawn to the house as a gang of jocks come out to the back yard. Some to stand and chat with their friends. Some to smoke. They seem to have clocked you both. Eddies mood changes.

“Let me give you a ride home, pencils.” Eddie says suddenly out of nowhere. His voice took on a deeper tone. Duller.

You aren’t sure you heard him right. What?

You turn back and see a very sincere look stained across that anarchistic expression. His eyes almost deepen.

“Are you serious?” You ask him.

“Not often. But just then? Yeah. I wouldn’t feel right walking away, leaving a pretty girl like you alone and vulnerable out here. Not with that crowd of assholes circling.” Eddie says as he scans along the row of them with, clearly, no love lost in his tone.

“Uhm.” You churn over your thoughts. Fragments of choppy sense returning to your tipsy head. “Yeah ok, Sure. Thanks.”

Eddie smiles. That palm of his is offered to you once again. And you take it.

You wobble on your feet on the soft grass.

He smiles. Steadies your elbows with his hands. Both hands clutching on for your safety. He draws you close. Just a little. His dark eyes dart with slight starlight.

“Us freaks gotta stick together. Man.” And then comes that rock n roll mischief smirk. Your belly melts.

You think you like being a freak after all.

🕷 Fancy a sneak at the next part? 🕷

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coffeeandbatboys · 1 day

Note

congratulations!!! I'm so excited for you! <3 for your celebration, which is very much deserved might I add, can I get Right Here Waiting by Richard Marx with either Wolffe or Fives?

(@high-ct5555 is my star wars blog which is where I'll be reblogging from!)

again congrats!! 🥳

Thank you!!! ahhhhhh this one kicked me in the feels lol. I am really terribly sorry about how sad this one gets.

SPOILERS for TBB S3 Ep7!!!!!!

warnings: as mentioned, spoilers. Heavy angst, bittersweet/open ending. Unresolved relationship problems I guess you could say.

Right Here Waiting For You (Wolffe x Fiancée!Reader)

He didn't come home. He promised that he'd come home and he hadn't.

Empire day would always be the day that Wolffe broke your heart.

You couldn't understand. He loved you, didn't he? Why would he ask you to marry him and then ditch you?

Maybe you were in denial of the fact that he could be dead.

No. He couldn't be. You needed him not to be.

So you continued with life. You helped Rex and Senator Chuchi and the other clones whenever you could, but so very often your mind would be on him.

And all of it lead to this moment. You wanted to cry out his name and run into his arms. But all the same it wasn't him. It wasn't the man who had gotten on his knees and asked you for your hand in marriage. Wolffe had a tenderness about him that not many people saw, save for you. But that tenderness had been torn away from him by the Empire.

"Mesh'la? Oh maker...you're alive!"

His voice, a mix of worry and relief, pulls you from the hurricane of your thoughts and memories. Tears gather in your eyes, because you want to believe, that just for a second, he's on your side.

But he's not. And though you still love him, you can't let the Empire get the better of you. So you step forward, dodging Rex's outstretched arm that's attempting to hold you back, until you're standing in front of the love of your life.

You pull his forehead down to meet yours and your noses bump against each other.

"I...I can't...we're on opposite sides of a new war, Wolffe. I'm sorry—." Tears are beginning to choke your words.

He squeezes his eyes shut. "I love you..."

"I know you do." Your voice cracks, betraying every wall you've built. "I want you to come and find me when you figure all of this out, hm? Come back to me."

Your heart yearns to say the words that you want to, but you're afraid they'll crush those walls for good. So you place a chaste, tearful kiss to his lips and back away towards the approaching ship.

As you walk up the ramp, you turn, and meet his mismatched gaze. Maker, he looks devastated, like he wants to reach out for you. But he doesn't.

Your voice is barely above a whisper, but he hears. He hears you say, "I love you too," As you turn away from him.

And once again you're apart from the love of your life, and those walls turn to dust.

But only for a little while.

#star wars #commander wolffe x reader #clone trooper wolffe #star wars wolffe #clone wars wolffe #wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x fem!reader #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x fem!reader #wolffe x you #commander wolffe #Coffee's 300 follower celebration

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the-silentium · 5 months

Text

The key to survival

Chapter 1: Always have tape; it might save your boat or silence chatty people

Masterlist

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader, not sure yet but might turn into a Tech x Reader fic

Words: 5280 words

Warnings: None

A/N: I had this story in my drafts since 2021. I think it deserves to be out there. Please enjoy.

Taglist: @haloangel391

____________________

Hunter looked through the glass canopy of the Marauder, searching intently along with Tech and Echo for their escort. The Marshall Commander had been clear about that step; wait for them and do not attempt to approach the surface of the planet without them. The reason why was unclear.

According to Tech, this planet chose to remain relatively advanced-technology free, meaning that they did use comms and datapads, but turned down ships and any plasma-based weapon. It was odd but not unheard of. It also didn't explain why the clones were forbidden to approach without a native escort.

Surely, without any high-technology, the ship could not be shot down, the planet was affiliated with the Republic so the locals would not attack them as soon as they stepped out, their presence was planned days ago and so they would not be surprised of the Batch's arrival.

Even Tech's encyclopedic mind and seemingly endless databank couldn't make sense of it. He told them the planet was inhabited by a high variety of highly dangerous animals of all kinds; swimming, walking, flying, poisonous, stealthy, all more dangerous than the previous one. However, they could be as deadly as they wanted, the clones aboard the ship were trained elite commandos equipped with pretty decent artillery. Those animals had no chance whatsoever against them.

They nonetheless followed their orders and remained into the stratosphere until their comm received a transmission. Still, Hunter couldn't spot any escort in the clear blue sky.

"So you're the clone ship?" A cheery, female voice rang through the line as soon as Echo accepted the incoming call.

"We are. We were told to wait for an escort, is that you?" The Sergeant inquired, eyes still looking for any sign of the woman's ship. Again, he remained clueless of your position. Even the radar remained clear.

"The one and only!" Crosshair came over and rolled his eyes at your enthusiastic tone.

Then you finally came into view from their side. Hunter was not the only one shocked to see you ride a living, flying creature instead of a ship.

The thing was slim in girth although imposing by the size of its leaf-shaped wings. Its back went from an emerald green to a darker shade with black star-shaped markings while its underside was on the brown side. Hunter noticed the curious movements of the wings flapping to slow down. They were separated in three distinct flaps, like six humongous leaves that kept it in the air. More importantly, the vicious talons and sharp teeth that caught the sunlight were enough for Hunter to be grateful that you were on their side.

Then his attention moved to you, firmly holding onto your ride by a saddle. Your helmet looked like the only piece of technology you possessed. Its emerald shade shone under the sun, a stark contrast with the dark Y-shaped visor.

"Woah! I've never seen one of those!" Wrecker exclaimed in awe as he ran to the cockpit, his eyes growing wide at the sight of the flying reptilian.

"Just follow me and I'll bring you to the landing zone closest to our city." The creature kept a stationary position a good distance away from them, its eyes looking right at the men. Hunter repressed a shiver at the feeling of being seized up.

"I wanna ride one of those." Wrecker pointed at the beast. A scoff escaped Hunter's mouth. He looked at his brother and wondered if he realized that you were riding 45 klicks in the air. "Looks much more fun than the Marauder! And cuddlier!"

"Cuddlier?" Echo whispered in disbelief. Hunter had to agree with his brother, this beast was in the same "cuddly" department as Crosshair.

"Using animals as transportation methods is quite antediluvian." Tech tutted. “Ships surpass by far any capabilities of a biological creature.”

"I beg your pardon?" The female's voice cut through the comms. Hunter straightened along with Echo. Both of them thought that the transmission was over. Tech must not have noticed the dryness of your tone because he continued like there wasn't any issue.

"Oh, do not apologize, it's quite alright. Antediluvian refers to something old-fashioned. There are more useful and practical ways to fly nowadays than use animals that have limited stamina, lower speed, lower height endurance--"

"I know what the word means." You cut him off. Hunter noticed your head snapping in Tech's direction and he was more than certain that a glare hardened your face under your helmet. "If you guys are all so advanced and mighty, then I don't see why I, a mere idiot who's using obsolete ways, am needed here. Have fun making your way to the city." You snapped and cut the transmission right as Hunter was about to jump in to try and save the situation.

They watched as your beast propelled itself upwards with the powerful beat of its wings and continued to rotate backwards until they lost sight of it. The radar of the ship scanned something big above them then it lost any signal as it dove for the ground.

"Total success Tech, congratulations. We are now without any escort." Hunter grumbled in disapproval. His instinct told him that this was not a preferable outcome.

"I can't help but wonder if we really needed one in the first place. We have the coordinates to the landing zone and it is not too far from here. I estimate our arrival time to be 13 minutes." Tech looked back at him with confidence and as calm as ever.

Hunter took a second to think everything through. He had received Cody's debrief alone, none of his brother had heard the serious tone in which the Marshall Commander had relayed to not proceed with the mission without native help. When he had pushed for a reason why, his superior admitted that he was himself relaying info from a third party and the reason was lost to him too. All they knew was that the warning was to be taken seriously.

On the other side, Tech was more often than not a reliable source of information. If he said that this planet was not a threat, then it must be so. Whoever this third party was, they surely couldn't measure up to Tech.

"Get us to the LZ." He walked away to the side console when the ship started advancing towards their destination. He wondered if you were someone important in that city and whether what happened would impact the mission.

Cross the river when you get there, he pinched his nose in exasperation.

The ship suddenly jerked to the side, sending Hunter crashing into Wrecker who hit the wall with force. With a yelp, Tech fought with the commands to take back control of the Marauder.

"Something is keeping us on the side!" He yelled behind him. "Hold on!"

In a flash, Hunter anchored himself to a seat. Not even a second later, the ship jerked slightly forward, the engines pushing as much as they could to dislodge the ship, but not budging. A worrying sound of metal being scrapped filled the Marauder until whatever stopped them in their course released them.

"What was-"

"We lost most of-"

"Wrecker, gun's nest!" Hunter barked in a hurry as soon as he noticed the new critter that flew before them. It was big. Bigger than your own creature. Almost as big as the Marauder. Black scales shone under the sun, looking as hard as rocks, imposing teeth were visible despite its maws being shut, it pushed an enraged screech and Hunter started to understand why they needed you.

Even more when he noticed that its tail scaringly resembled a blade.

"On it!"

"Tech! Get us out of here!" Echo looked at his brother, his arm pushing against the console like he could keep the monster at bay.

"I'm doing what I can, but as I was saying, we lost most of the power in our right engine." Tech groaned in concentration, his hands firmly grabbing the ship's commands.

The ship jerked a few times, forcing Tech into reckless maneuvers in attempts to keep the ship from getting maimed 35 klicks away from the ground. Hunter could hear the turret going off in quick succession. The sound of artillery put him more at ease, knowing that they were not defenseless.

"Guys! This thing won't go down!" Wrecker yelled with worry behind his shoulder.

"Well shoot it!" Crosshair shot back with a hint of annoyance laced with nervosity.

"That's what I'm doing! It doesn't do anything!" He shot at the beast that gained enough speed to outfly them and right in front of their eyes, the plasma hit the black scales without any indicator that the creature was hurt. To Hunter, it looked like a blaster bolt had hit a wall, leaving behind a charred circle and nothing else.

"What?!"

The beast suddenly lost speed and swung its powerful tail to hit them in mid air. Tech dodged to the side with a curse, avoiding the blade-like tail by less than a meter.

"Can we jump into hyperspace?" He asked his piloting brother, his own knuckles turning white under the pressure of his grip on the seat.

"We'd need to redirect–"

"Can it be done?" He asked again, eager to skip the long explanation.

"Yes."

Jaws appeared on their left, quickly gaining ground. Soon it would reach the cockpit and the teeth clashed together in excitement of its upcoming bite on metal.

Hunter was ready to call it a day and order Tech to jump into hyperspace to try again later. The words stuck in his throat as he barely noticed something above them dive for the enormous beast and clash so hard they both plummeted towards the ground.

Screeches could be heard over the engines of their ship. With swift movements Tech quickly lowered the speed and rotated the ship to take in what happened.

A green creature had the monster's neck between its teeth from its position on its back. The black one trashed in the air, angrily trying to dislodge its opponent to counter-attack. The green beast let go once the monster dove for the trees below, it took some altitude but remained between the ship and the furious dragon. You held on tight onto your mount, one hand on the saddle, the other onto a blade strapped to your back.

"We should go. She can't beat that." Crosshair mumbled next to him, his gaze searching for the aggressive one's return.

"Oh I think she can." Hunter countered.

He didn't know exactly why, maybe it was the confidence that radiated from you or the battle-stance you moved into whenever the wild monster came charging back, but his guts told him you had this under control.

The monster charged the smaller one in a menacing growl. They clashed once again but this time you jumped off your saddle to land onto the attacker's back. There you found the base of its wings and plunged your blade between the scales where wings met its back. It screamed in pain and took off, abandoning the fight in a dive.

"Kark-"

Hunter's heart stopped as he saw you free falling. Wrecker groaned, his stomach surely upset at the sight. You, however, seemed pretty calm. You weren't flailing around like anyone else would, you were patiently waiting, arms and legs parted. Your green mount sped off towards the ground to catch you onto its back.

"She's nuts." Echo mumbled as you came back to their height, unfazed.

You refused every attempt at communication Hunter sent you, instead deciding to point once towards the landing zone and take off in its direction. This trip was going to be hell. Not 30 seconds in it and Tech had ruined their relationship with their protector by insulting what he would bet was your entire culture. Hunter feared he would have to tape Tech's mouth closed if he wanted to preserve some civility in future conversations.

The jungle became clearer as they continued their descent after you. Quite a few times, your green-colored beast became fully camouflaged with the top of the trees, forcing the clones to use Crosshair and the radar to follow you effectively. At the back of his mind, Hunter wondered if that was intentional or not. Maybe you hoped they would lose you and return home.

He certainly wanted to.

A clearing appeared before them and your creature dove under the leaves. They followed after you and quickly landed on the lush ground.

"I don't think I need to say this but let's try and not insult anyone further." He looked at Tech.

"I simply stated the truth."

"Sometimes the truth hurts." He sighed. "And right now, she's the one with the flying dragon that can cover us."

"A wyvern." His brother corrected. "Dragons have four legs whereas wyverns have two." Tech pulled on his helmet and like that, the team was fully geared up and ready to leave the ship.

"Whatever the name, it's still hers. And I have a feeling that there are more of those things around."

He gave one last look at his squad before lowering the ramp.

Hunter got a glimpse of yourself patting your beast's neck before sliding down its side and repeat the gesture with its forehead when it lowered its head. Yellow eyes then turned to him and he immediately noticed the intelligence within them. This was no porg.

From up close, Hunter's gaze found the flesh of your thighs, visible through a slit at the side of your dark green pants that moved slightly with the breeze. A sort of armor made of deep blue scales covered your lower legs, arms and chest. He had never seen such a design before and found himself intrigued.

He knew Tech would have queries about everything since they knew so little about this place, the question was whether you would take it kindly or not.

"Thank you for your help back there." He consciously slowed his approach when he got within biting range of the wyvern. Just as slowly, he reached a hand out. "We highly appreciate it."

Your Y shaped visor moved from his hand to his face to the rest of his brothers. A long second stretched and he wasn't certain you would accept his gratitude and let him hang in the air. Then you surprised him with a firm shake.

"You're welcome."

"And I also would like to apologize for my brother's rude comment."

You hummed, the sound slightly distorted by the confines of your armor. You shrugged and removed your helmet, showing them a cautious smile. Hunter remembered your initial cheery self and thought that they were headed in the right direction.

"Apology accepted. I get why the GAR would think that we're somewhat outdated, with your tanks and ships and our animals." You exaggerated the last word, referring to Tech's words and chuckled. "Guess y'all didn't think that they were plasma resistant though."

"You could have warned us." Tech lifted his gaze from his datapad to peer accusingly at you.

Where was the tape?!

"Tech!" Hunter growled.

"Well, if its warnings you want, here's one. Raek is carnivorous." You informed him with a grin and proceeded to enter the dense jungle, Raek following you dutifully. "And we're late for lunch." You smirked.

Hunter pulled on Tech's backplate to keep him from following you too closely.

_______________

The jungle was full of life. Hunter could hear a diversity of critters running, flying and digging around him. A few chirping birds silenced their voices at the group's passage, some smaller animal scurried off at the sight of Raek's imposing form and Wrecker was chatting your ears off with questions about your mount. If your growing smile and the enthusiasm that took over your voice whenever you talked about your beast was anything to go by, Hunter would say that you forgave them their initial mishap. And the one that followed. The Sergeant sent a silent thank you to his brother.

"Oh, no no, Raek can't breathe fire, and you won't see any fire-breathing wyvern in these parts. You'd have to go to the West where there's more mountains." You explained before pointing at Reak's mouth. "Raek is a Starios. His saliva is actually a venom that affects the nervous system. He can paralyze or render another wyvern unconscious in a handful of minutes depending on its size."

While Wrecker wowed, Hunter found himself staring at the venomous mouth. Raek was big enough that he would only need two bites to finish a clone, no venom needed. In order to affect another beast of his size, his venom must be extremely potent, making Hunter wish that his brother was not leaning closer to the maws so he could get a better view of the sharp rows of teeth so generously displayed by the Starios.

"This is great! A venomous dragon!"

"Wyvern." You and Tech corrected at the same time. Hunter noticed your smile widening before you had to dodge Wrecker's arms moving to the sky.

"Who cares?"

You chuckled. "We do." Your hand softly stroke Raek's wing.

"How long have you had him?" Tech wondered, his attention fully on you.

"Eleven years now. And I don't really have him, he decided to stick with me when he found me. He's more like a friend than a pet." Hunter hummed. He could somewhat make sense of what you meant, what with the sharp intelligence he saw in Raek's eyes. At some point even he wondered if the green creature could understand the whole conversation.

"A coexisting relationship then." Tech pushed his glasses up his nose, interest shining in his eyes.

"Exactly."

"You mentioned that he found you. If I may inquire, how did that happen?"

Your steps faltered and that content smile of yours became stiff and forced. "That's a story between him and I, sorry."

Tech's shoulder dropped and Hunter knew he was disappointed. It was obvious that the story was too personal to share and Hunter would even dare say not on the happy side. He made sure to catch Tech's eyes and with a shake of his head, to stop any push back for answers.

You stumbled into Wrecker when a green head playfully pushed you to the side. Instead of pushing back, you reached your arm under its lower jaw in a side hug.

"We're almost there." You announced and separated from Raek. "Ya know where to go. I'll be back soon." You patted his wing. He looked down at you with a rumble and took another route through the trees.

"Do you fight other drag- er- wyv-ern?" Wrecker looked down at you and you nodded in confirmation. "Other wyvern often? You looked like you did that everyday!"

"This season I do." You nodded your head along with your words. "Just before winter some species will migrate and others will calm down with the added space. Although when they get hungry, it can get real' ugly."

"I bet!"

An enormous gate stood in the horizon, guarded by two beasts. In some of the giant trees hidden behind it Hunter could see platforms and buildings, flying creatures going and coming from them, some passing right overhead. You waved as they passed and did the same to the guards who waved back and let them all in without issue.

You beelined to a staircase at the bottom of a tree, marching up the stairs two by two. "I hope you're all good with heights." You jokingly threw them. Wrecker grunted and you stopped. "Oh."

"I hate heights!" He swiveled back towards Hunter, afraid that he would be forced to go up. "And there's no rail Sarge!

Indeed, he too had noticed that detail. Added to the height of the first platform which was a good klick above ground, it brought a tinge of discomfort even to him.

"It's fine Wrecker. You can wait down here." He assured. "We'll brief you when we get back."

Wrecker's whole body sagged in relief. "Ah, thanks Sarge." He looked back up at the stairs and with a shudder and stepped aside to let them pass. "I'll wait here. See you soon. Don't fall."

"We won't." He assured his brother and followed after you.

The first few stairs went fine, but half a klick in the air and even Echo was cursing through the comms. It didn't help that the stairs were individual planks shoved into the tree in a regular spacing in a branch-like fashion. It meant that they could see the ground far below between each stair and there was no rail.

"This design is irrefutably unsafe." Tech yelled from behind him and Hunter hoped the wind carried his words away.

"We ride wyverns for a living here. This is nothing for us." You shot back.

"Again, irrefutably unsafe!"

"You're soldiers! That's unsafe!"

Hunter groaned. Five minutes without Wrecker and Tech was back at antagonizing their escort.

You sped up the last few steps and arrived at the top.

"Hi Chief!" You walked up to a man whose gray hair stood out like a sore thumb. He turned to you and looked over your shoulder at them with a warm smile. "Here are the clones! I'm off now!" You waved over your shoulder, already turning on your heels and walking away. It was clear that you were happy to finally be relieved of them and Hunter sighed in relief that your job with them was over. He did not dislike you, you simply had all the reasons to get them lost for days and they did not have days.

That was until the Chief called your name and you froze.

"Not so fast. They are here for the crystals you found a few months ago and they'll need a Rider to guide and protect them."

Hunter tensed. Oh no.

"Yeaaah… about that. I'm quite busy with my own stuff at the moment, but I'm sure Olaka or Taeme would love to fill out this role."

"As it stands, they are out on an expedition. What is so important that you have to do?" He frowned suspiciously.

"Find the kids who decided to dull all my blades again and terrorize them enough so they'll have nightmares for days." You said it so seriously that Hunter had to repeat the words in his head. He could already see you making them walk in circles for the upcoming week.

The Chief pinched his nose with a sigh. "I'll take this matter into my own hands. You can go ahead and escort the clones to the Lemgona cave and show them the crystals."

"Wouldn't it be easier if I went to get those crystals and gave them to the clones? Would be quicker if I could ride." You wondered.

"If those crystals are what we think they are, then harvesting them the traditional way would inevitably destroy them." Tech jumped in. "They require a precise extraction technique in order to maintain their constitution and attributes."

Your shoulder slumped as you accepted defeat with a nod and turned around, the pep in your step gone.

"You'll be back to your ship with the crystals in about two days, Sergeant." He assured him.

"Sir-" Hunter worriedly looked back at the Chief after he took in your body language.

"I know what it looks like." He sighed. "She'll take good care of you all, do not worry about that. She's not usually like this, so I think something might have happened on the way here?" Hunter answered with a look towards Tech who was busy assessing their surroundings. "Know that whatever happened, she's not one to hold grudges." The Chief assured them. “Those kids are another matter. They honestly had it coming.”

"Alright. Thank you, sir."

"I hope those crystals are worth the trouble of getting to them. Now, off you go." He waved them off with a reassuring smile.

"Sir." He nodded one last time and they were all off after you. Hunter frowned. You stood at the edge of the platform, nowhere near the stairs.

"You can either take the zipline or the stairs." You shot them a single glance over your shoulder, taking in how Tech's eyes widened. "Guess it's gonna be the stairs." You grabbed a hook off your belt and down you went.

"Like hell we'll take the stairs." Crosshair moved at the front and followed after you with his own hook.

"It really couldn't be an easy one." Echo sighed.

_________________

After a quick stop to ensure that someone will take care of your charges during your absence, the clones followed you to your home, a small, two story house camouflaged in the foliage and a barn that seemed to have been through a lot. Some walls were charred, some parts have obviously been smashed in and fixed with planks, the windows were all broken and the door hung at an odd angle.

"I just have to feed some lil' guys and grab my stuff. Shouldn't take too long." You turned to him. "You can look around if you'd like. They are all used to humans around here."

Hunter nodded. He couldn't see any "lil' guys" around them yet, but he knew they were there, looking at them from their hiding place in the high grass near the back of the barn. Wrecker did not lose a second and approached the pair when the grass slightly moved.

An elbow to his arm caught Hunter's attention and he looked back at Crosshair who pointed in the trees. Hunter didn't see anything.

"Camouflaged. 700 meters above ground." He told him.

Then he could see it, the faint movement of the bark of a tree, like a mirage. It slowly moved down as if crawling down before stopping completely. Right before their eyes, a navy-blue creature formed right where the mirage once was, its milky eyes staring right at them. This one had four legs and no wings, but it jumped down the 500 meters nonetheless and somehow glided next to you. It landed in a crash when one of its front legs gave out.

"Are you okay, Roo?" You tilted your head at the growling beast. "We'll have to work on strengthening your legs if you really want to keep jumping down trees."

It whined and snarled at the ground before scratching the earth with its claws. Curiosity got the best of him and Hunter approached the blue beast. It looked up at him, head tilted in a silent question. It chirped lightly and in turn approached him in earnest, its head pressing against the plastoid and wild sniffing filled the air. Its head reached his mid-chest, the scales on its body moved up and down frantically as it moved all around him causing the light to reflect over them, its tail finished in a grape of spikes as long as his forearm.

It did a whole circle around him and finally pressed its head hard on his chest plate, nearly sending him stumbling backward. He planted his feet more firmly on the ground and waited. He received another push to his chest.

"I think it wants pets." Echo joined him.

"Is that what you want fella?" Tentatively, Hunter flattened his hand and stroked a path down the neck of the beast, the upturned scales on its skin flattening with his hand before rising again. A vibration shook his armor and purrs reached his ears. Maybe not porgs, but closer to tookas.

He continued the motion to the pleasure of the beast while you grabbed two buckets that made you lightly limp from the effort to carry their heavy weights. If only he wasn't scared of insulting you more, Hunter would have offered some help. He noticed Echo looking at him with a questioning gaze, he too wanted to help but was hesitating for the same reason. With a shake of his head, Hunter hoped today would get better.

"Soooo by the way!" You drew the word how with a huff of effort. "I'm Y/N, but I think you got that one already."

He watched as you stopped outside the barn, removed the lid and dumbed a few dozens kilograms of ripe fruits on the ground. Immediately, the navy-blue creature detached itself from him to enjoy the food and you came back towards their group who looked in curiosity as more beasts made their way to the pile.

"I'm Hunter. That's Wrecker, Crosshair, Echo and Tech." He pointed at each of them.

You turned to them with a small smile and nods. Raek breached the line of trees and ignored them in order to drop a gray-furred carcass near the fruit pile before digging in with great appetite. He tore into the prey with ease, the flesh seemingly shredding with little to no resistance. Hunter suddenly wondered how easily Raek could tear into plastoid.

A gasp caught everyone's attention including yours. Wrecker awed at the tiny, orange wyvern that clumsily walked right into the barn door and sent it falling to the ground. You sighed in defeat next to him.

The damage went unnoticed by the youngling, its eyes staring at Wrecker. It was smaller than the several others gulping down the fruits. Way smaller. It barely reached his knees and those big yellow eyes definitely got to Wrecker's soft spot who quickly joined its side.

"Can I pet him?" Wrecker's hands were almost shaking with excitement.

"You can. And Silica's a she." You looked between his brother and Raek whose gaze was fixed on Wrecker's hand petting Silica's head. There was no malice in his gaze, only pure protectiveness. The resemblance between the two was obvious, not only in shape, but the tiny one, despite being primarily dark-orange, had Raek's green highlights.

"We'll be able to leave once Raek has finished eating." You glanced at the wyvern once more and took in his focussed state. "Silica, com'ere." You called and she reacted immediately. She turned around with a joyous chirp to join your side, her flat tail whipping harshly at Wrecker's thigh plate. The resulting noise made the creature jump and face them with a growl. Hunter's heartbeat skyrocketed, his eyes shooting to the hovering male. To his relief Raek remained in place and looked somewhat amused.

You quickly herded back your beast, all the while whispering her reassurances and giving her pats. She calmed down enough for you to send her back to the fruit pile with Raek who bumped her head with his nose and shared some shredded meat.

"Sorry Wrecker." You sheepishly scratched your neck. "She's still a hatchling and gets scared easily."

"A hatchling?"

"A baby."

"Ooh! You sure have a lot of those!"

"Yeah. Raek and I take care of the orphans of our Riders or the ones we find in the jungle." You reached the fallen door and lifted it enough so you could pull a bag with your foot from under it. You dropped it again. "The jungle doesn't have mercy. Not for anyone."

You opened the bag to check the content and closed it before strapping it to Raek's saddle.

"Do y'all need anything before we leave?" You asked and Hunter shook his head.

"We're ready when you are." You pushed yourself off Raek and patted Silica's head.

"Gabe will pass to care for you. Be a good girl will ya?" A thrill answered your question and you chuckled.

"Let's go." You took the front and led them back to the gates where you led them deeper into the jungle, Raek following a few steps behind them.

#bad batch x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #wrecker x reader #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #echo x reader #bad batch #clone force 99 #clone wars #star wars

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kittiwittebane · 7 months

Text

Holy sheet dis gon hit hardeh

!!THIS IS GOING TO BE RE-WRITTEN!!

WARNING: BLOOD, ABUSE, CHILD ABUSE, ¿GORE?

___________

“Tell me who she is, that’s all you have to do.” Belos’s raspy voice scratched Hunter’s ears.

“NO!” He repeated. “You can hurt me but I will NEVER let you hurt her!” the blood dripping from Hunter’s mouth splattered over Belos as he yelled. His face curled into anger. However his face turned into a sneer, Belos’s frustration making him feel better. Despite the blood dripping from his face, arms, legs, stomach and wherever else Belos could get to, Hunter felt what was more important was to keep Willow safe. Titan knows what Belos would do to her and her family. . .

“Dad, I’m telling you, something is wrong!” Willow slammed her hands onto the table aggressively, attempting to prove a point.

“And what do you want us to do? Break into the president’s house and steal a child!?”

“YES! Or- at least make sure he’s ok!” Willow cried. “He hasn’t answered my texts, calls, he hasn’t been at school. Something is wrong!”

“And what makes you think it’s that and not the fact he might not have-”

“SOMETHING IS WRONG!” Willow snapped. “And if you aren’t going to help me then I will do it myself!”

“You are going to break into a high leader’s house to check if Hunter is ok??”

“YES! How many times do I have to repeat this?!” Willow hissed. She stormed out the door, and despite the fact they could get thrown in jail for this, Gilbert couldn’t let his daughter go alone. She approached the house and in one more attempt to get his daughter to stop he spoke.

“Its lock-” he started.

But Willow had already gotten the door open.

Where the heck did she get the knowledge to do that from??

Willow and Gilbert snuck around the house, but ran into someone.

“Uhm-” Willow stuttered. Then she recognised them. And they recognised her.

“Willow?”

“Raine?”

Willow wasn’t sure if it was safe yet.

“Looking for Hunter?” they asked. She nodded.

“No one has seen him in weeks. But I assume he is in his room because we aren’t allowed in there.” Raine told her. “Come with me.”

Gilbert looked at her, and Willow nodded. They followed Raine through the mansion until they reached a room, which they both assumed was Hunters. Willow lock picked the door.

“Just know, Belos goes in there at exactly 3:30pm, 6:00pm, 6:00am, 12:00pm every day.” Raine told them. “Also I can’t be here so I’m just going to go.” and with that, they left them. Cautiously, Willow pulled the door handle. You could hear a scramble of arms and legs, lots of crashing. Willow opened the door to find Hunter basically upside down, with a bunch of photos of her in an opened box that was all over the floor. He was covered in blood, and there was blood all over his bed and floor. She ran over and hugged him, crying.

“Hunter oh my god I’m not even going to ask if you are ok! There is blood everywhere!” They both broke down into a sea of tears and blood, and all Gilbert could do was watch.

“Willow, I told you not to follow me!” Hunter burst out.

“Well f*ck your stupid brain, I’m your girlfriend and I don’t care what you say. I care about you and you were missing!” WIllow snapped. Hunter shook his head.

“Leave before he finds you.” Hunter pushed her away. “He will kill you.”

Willow balled her fists in anger.

“You think that a person like me, could leave her own boyfriend like THIS!?” she wailed. Just as she was going to say more, he shushed her.

(This next part is my one little thing about this.)

“I’ll tell you something. Willow, I’m not like you. Neither is my uncle. I am what’s called a Grimwalker. I’m not even human, I am a clone of one. The one who was the old leader. Caleb. Caleb Wittebane. I am not his son, I am his clone.” Hunter desperately tried to explain. “And my uncle is a monster. He consumed magical animals to stay alive after having his head impaled. He is living off animal souls. Please, he is not your standard human fighter. You can’t win this one. Leave!” Hunter whisper-cried. But it was too late. They had created a commotion, and Belos had heard.

“Oh no.”

#hunter toh #hunter deamonne #hunter noceda #hunter wittebane #huntlow #the owl house #willow park #toh #winter #dana terrace #winter toh

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book-of-baba-fett · 1 year

Text

Illicit Affairs - Chapter 20

Captain Rex x OC

Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary: After rescuing Echo, the group has to find a way to escape the droid forces on Skako Minor. Talia taps into some abilities that might have more consequences than she realizes.

Chapter Rating: M

Warnings: Angst, canon typical violence, awkward scenarios of two people who used to be in a relationship and are still in love with each other trying to act like they still aren't in love with each other

A/N: Wow, posting chapters two weeks in a ROW? It's been a long time since I've been able to do that. First off; I received some of the best interactions last week so I need to thank you all so much. A weird thing I noticed while formatting - I think this is the only chapter that's 100% Talia's POV? Much love to my beta-reader @galacticgraffiti, who I think is still in emotional recovery from this chapter. Any likes/comments/reblogs are so loved; seriously you all have no idea how much it means to me!

Ao3 Link

Series Masterlist

19 BBY - Skako Minor

Echo’s plan brought them into the ventilation corridors, tunnels winding so tight the group could only walk two by two. Talia led the group, with Tech shortly behind her holding his scanner, remarking on the system. Talia tuned out much of what they said, still trying to calm her mind. Climbing up the hatch had helped them evade part of the droid forces, but there was sure to be more of a fight coming.

The tunnels provided a less than preferred method of escape: Balancing across a long pipe leading to another of the city’s buildings; suspended thousands of feet above ground. Crossing here could lead to a ship that could help them escape, or to more droids; Talia felt inclined to suspect the second.

She stepped onto the pipe last; the wind rustled her hair wildly as it whipped her face. She carefully moved forward, her feet guiding her as she moved one step at a time.

“Oh, boy, I can’t even look,” Wrecker grumbled from ahead, his voice carrying over the wind. He addressed Tech, just in front of him. “Just keep walking.”

“That’s fine, but if you fall, don’t take me with you,” Tech responded.

They were nearing the halfway point when Wrecker spoke up again, this time more panicked, “I don’t know if I can do this!”

“We’re almost there, Wrecker!” Talia called from behind. It was true, but that distance seemed further and further with every glance; even for a Jedi balancing with no sight of ground beneath her was daunting.

Anakin’s voice broke through the air.

“Turn around, go back!” he yelled suddenly.

Talia could make out the forms of approaching droids at the other end of the pipe. Cursing, she turned around, just in time to see the way from which they came was already filled with droids as well. She ignited her blade quickly enough to redirect the blasts from the droids; but the confined foot space on the pipe meant the clones were limited with how much they could fire back. Crosshair lost his footing, and slipped off the pipe, but Wrecker dove down to grab him, using his other arm to stop them from falling.

Talia twirled her saber, reflecting shots, but the limited movement space prevented her from doing more. Even if she knocked the droids back with the Force, how many were waiting in the tunnel? And would the rest of the men be able to safely and quickly retreat?

“Any brilliant ideas?” Talia shouted over the wind as she blocked another blast. “I do have a brilliant idea!” Tech responded, pulling his datapad out and quickly typing. ‘When the locals attacked us, I recorded the creatures’ distress call-”

“He records everything, it’s a hobby.” Hunter explained. Tech didn’t even acknowledge his brother’s interruption.

“-which allows us to call those flying creatures to us,” Tech finished. He pressed play on his datapad, and a screeching roar rang out, high pitched and grating to the ears. Talia instinctively covered her ears, trying in vain to mute the screeching, but she just succeeded in allowing herself to be distracted.

Talia yelped in pain as a blaster shot singed her arm, throwing her balance off. She held her saber in one hand; her teeth gritted through the pain as she was able to block some of the blasts as the clones returned fire behind her. She regained her footing as Tech called out, “There is our ride out of here!”

Specks of black appeared in the clouds below them, racing upwards to the squad. Several shot above them, circling around as Tech’s call still played.

“Now, how do we get on them?” Anakin asked.

“How else; we jump!” Tech offered bluntly. If she weren’t in pain still, Talia would have laughed at how thrown off the rest of the team was at Tech’s seemingly, to Talia, obvious reply.

“Well, if it’s our one way out,” Talia mumbled as she switched her saber off, then leapt off the pipe without hesitating. The wind coursed by her as she fell into the nothingness, using the Force to guide her to the right spot. She closed her eyes and reached out, blood rushing through her ears as she sensed the nearest figure. She slammed onto the back of the keeradak, but the creature didn’t seem to mind; it just continued on it’s course. Behind her she could hear the clones and Anakin making similar impacts while she struggled to find the best way to hold on.

Red blasts flew in the air around them, and Talia whipped her head around to see the droids had taken flight in pursuit of them. The clones did their best to fire back, but holding onto the keeradaks was complicated enough without the distraction of the droids. Anakin’s voice could be heard over the wind, lamenting over his inability to steer, but the keeradaks seemed to be more than capable of evading the droids, curbing sharply and causing a pair of droids to crash. Talia risked another glance behind, and couldn’t make out any more droids following them; they seemed to be in the clear for now.

It wasn’t a long flight back to the village, and as they circled to land, many of the Poletecs gathered round, leaving a small clearing for the keeradaks to touch down. Anakin stepped off first and approached the leader, who was already addressing him.

“Their leader is impressed we tamed the keeradaks, but he wants to know why we returned here?” Tech translated.

“Tell him we had no choice, tell him…that we wore out our welcome in Purkoll,” Anakin offered much to Talia’s annoyance. Out of all the ways to explain what could be a dangerous situation; that’s how he worded it? Tech relayed Anakin’s words over to the leader, and before he could finish speaking, blaster fire rang out.

The shots hit the ground near where they stood, giving Talia only a moment to lightly Force push a group of Poletecs away from the fire before the clones could aim back at some of the flying droids swooping overhead. The men were quick to react, taking out most of the droids, but one managed to get away.

“Not good. If I know Tambor, he'll come after us,” Anakin groaned as the droid flew away, “...us and the Poletecs, with everything he's got.”

The Poletec leader immediately spoke, his fear and frustration radiating off him as he addressed the group.

“What's he saying, Tech?” Talia asked, but she could already feel everything the leader wanted to portray from his emotions.

“He says that we have broken our word,” Tech translated as the leader continued to speak. “We have brought the war to his village.”

Before Talia could cut in to try and smooth this over, Rex cut in between her, Anakin, and the leader.

“You're right. Tell him he's right, Tech,” Rex ripped off his helmet as he spoke, tucking it under his arm. His voice was strong and commanding, not wavering as he addressed the leader. “Tell him we didn't plan to drag his people into war. But look what the Separatists did to one of our people!”

Anger crept into Rex’s voice at his last sentence as he pointed at Echo, his appearance compared to the other clones drastic. The Poletecs gasped as they saw his weak form, the ports where the wiring had connected to him still visible. Rex didn’t pause, he didn’t relent, he did what Rex did best, which was stand for those he cared about.

“They took away his freedom, his humanity, they tried to turn him into a machine,” Rex continued, addressing the Poletecs with a passion he usually reserved for his own men before battle. Talia regarded him with pride swelling in her chest as Rex stood his ground with Tech translating his speech to the Poletecs. “The Techno Union claims it's neutral, but they have chosen sides. Now your people have to choose.”

The Poletecs murmured amongst themselves, and Talia could sense that Rex’s words moved them.

“Well done, Rex,” Talia said under her breath as the leader began to address his people. Rex’s gaze softened as he was about to reply to her, but he was cut off by Crosshair backing in to them.

“Let’s hope it works,” Crosshair said, “Because I see forces coming, more than we can handle alone.”

The squad divided, doing their parts to prepare for the incoming Separatist forces. There wasn’t enough time for a large-scale evacuation, but Talia helped some of the children and weaker villagers find safe places to hide before taking her position for the upcoming fight. The plan was to set up an ambush for the droid forces, with the warriors among the Poletecs joining the team along the edges of the cliff that surrounded the village. For a small, less technologically advanced people, the Poletecs had many fighters willing to jump to their aid, something Talia was sure was owed to Rex’s influencing speech.

Talia crouched in front of a group of fighters, her saber in her hand as she watched the first specs of droid fighters fly in and land in the settlement. A makeshift bandage was wrapped around her arm that had been hit when they escaped Purkoll, the sting of the burn nagging at her for bacta or anything to soothe it, but she didn’t have time to worry about a small blaster wound when her help was needed. Since the shot was on Talia’s left arm, she just couldn’t separate her blade to dual wield, the wound limiting her more than she would have liked. Her eyes darted to Anakin at the top of a higher peak with Echo and Crosshair; at his signal, they would attack. More droids landed, and they began to patrol the abandoned village, scanners searching the large craters that made up much of the terrain. Anakin motioned with his hand, giving the signal for the attack to begin. A few yards from where Talia crouched, Wrecker pushed a giant boulder off the ledge, and it plummeted downhill, steamrolling over the droids in its path.

A war cry roared from the Poletecs as they rose and dived into the action to defend their home. Talia ignited her blade and leapt off the ledge, flipping to avoid the blaster fire that already filled the air. She swung her blade, taking out a droid in her path before landing with both feet on the ground. She sprinted further into the center of the village, where the heaviest throng of droids gathered. The Poletecs behind her were handling the outliers that missed the original ambush, but many of their own warriors fell as they were outmatched by the blasters. Talia pushed forward, tossing her blade to take out a trio of droids in her way before calling it back to her. The clones were scattered further from her; since they all had heavier fire power than the villagers, they would take out the brunt of the droid forces to spare as many Poletec losses as possible.

A few yards from her, Rex stood in front of a group of droids, taking them out one by one with ease. Overhead, more droids landed in the clearing, about to outnumber him. Talia sped up, narrowly dodging shots as she ran. Rex’s blasters were firing rapidly, shooting at the circle of droids around him, but more landed at his back. Talia ran and dropped, skidding towards the grouping behind Rex. She swung her blade and cut the legs off two droids behind him, giving Rex the time to turn and shoot the third as it landed. His helmet turned to her, and Talia thought he was going to say something when his blaster pointed at her.

Rex hit the droid that had landed just behind Talia, his well-aimed shot just to the side of her head. Talia exhaled and raised her blade, preparing for the next group to land. “Thanks.”

“We’re even,” Rex offered, already shooting a droid out of the sky before it could even touch down. He glanced back at Talia and did a double take. “Wait- your arm-“ Talia looked down to see the bandage had fallen off, baring the bright red blaster burn open.

“Happened on Purkoll; I’ll be fine,” Talia waved him off. Rex cursed, and Talia could feel a lecture coming on, “We have bigger concerns right now. I’m fine.”

Rex shook his head but didn’t argue. They ran to regroup with the batch. Talia twirled her blade, redirecting shots as they came, and Rex stood behind her, aiming around her to take out the droids firing at them.

The ground shook and a loud impact sounded; a large tri-droid landed in the clearing, looming over them. Its gun pointed into the settlement, and Rex and Talia barely had enough time to jump for cover before it fired.

The blow of the blast tossed Talia, making her slide and roll in the debris. She coughed as she pushed herself up, her body aching from the impact. Rex was rising next to her; he offered his hand to help her and she took it.

They ran for cover as the droid continued to fire into the village, shaking the ground and blinding their village as falling debris caused more dust and smoke to fill the air. The batch and a group of villagers had clustered near them, so they ran to join, seeking cover in a clustered group of buildings. Another impact and thud shook them as another tri-droid landed, and another blocked the canyon that provided the only evacuation from the village. Droid forces surged from beneath its feet, hurtling right towards them. They moved out of their cover, Tech leaving a series of electro-detonators to take out the foot soldiers. The small droids they could easily handle, but the three tri-droids provided a different kind of hurdle.

Anakin seemed to be in the same train of thought as Talia. His voice buzzed over the comm channel, “Talia, Rex; we’ve gotta take care of these walkers. I’ll take one, you two split the others.”

“Don’t worry General, the boys and I can handle this,” Rex replied. Rex signaled behind him, “Hunter, Wrecker – you’re with me.”

“Knew I could count on you, Rex.” Anakin’s voice sounded. “Oh and, Talia? Bet I’ll get rid of mine first.”

Talia rolled her eyes and turned off her comm. She pushed herself out of cover and ran towards the droid looming at the edge of the crater. The large gun pointed in her direction, and she Force-jumped to the side quick enough to avoid being knocked too far from the blast. She rolled behind rubble, peaking out to confirm the droid had moved its aim elsewhere. She sprinted forward again, this time taking out two droids that stood in her path. Poletecs were running around her, making for cover from the tri-droids’ barrage.

Talia tripped as another blast hit too close to her, the impact throwing her off balance. She caught her breath and watched as Anakin sliced off the weapons of his tri-droid, showing off as he jumped from leg to leg of the walker, incapacitating it. Gritting her teeth, Talia sprinted towards her walker again, her blade off so she could run faster. Anakin had the advantage of the high ground, so his method had worked for him, but Talia had another plan of attack.

She planted her feet on the ground and held her arm out, channeling all her energy like she had practiced. She let that coolness seep back out, the simmering frustration that she had bottled up beginning to leak. She thought of Echo’s body coming out of the cryo tank, emaciated and hooked up to the Techno Union’s machines. How they had taken him and turned him into a tool to be used against his brothers, his free will gone. How scared and dazed he was when they let him out. Talia hated them for what they did to him.

Talia pushed her anger, baring her teeth as the bolts of lightning left her fingertips, firing to the eye of the tri-droid. The droid stuttered, electricity pulsing through it as its legs halted. Talia grunted; she wasn’t giving enough power. She dropped her lightsaber and used her other hand too. Yelling as the power surged through her, Talia channeled every conflicting emotion she’d had as of late into taking out the tri-droid. The droid’s lights went out, and it swayed backwards from the force of Talia’s power. It lost its footing, tilting backwards until it fell, creating a domino reaction as it crashed into the droid Anakin took out behind it, and then into the last walker.

The surge of power ended. As the lightning dissipated, Talia fell to her knees, panting heavily as the three droids crashed into the ground, sending a wave of dust and debris through the air. A cheer roared out from the villagers as the last of the droids fled: the battle was won. Villagers ran over, some offering to help her stand as she clumsily pushed herself up. They babbled what Talia could assume was thanks in their garbled tongue, another group nearby surrounding Anakin in a similar gesture. Their words were muffled to the blood rushing through Talia’s head, exhaustion overtaking her but she had to power through it for a little longer. Through the haze she could make out the clones standing in the distance, clustered around the wreckage of the fallen walkers. Rex’s visor was trained on her, masking any thoughts or emotion his face would be portraying. But Talia could feel something from him that she had never felt before.

Rex was afraid.

“That was a neat trick,” Anakin’s voice interrupted Talia’s thoughts and she stared at him for a moment before she could process his words.

“Guess I know some things you don’t,” Talia replied tightly, forcing a confident smirk through her exhaustion.

Anakin hmphed, but offered a cocky grin, “I still took mine down first.”

Talia shook her head, not having the energy to offer another quip back to Anakin. Now that the fight was done, they could get back to the Havoc Marauder, and finally get Echo off this planet.

It didn’t take them long to depart, just a simple farewell from the leader of the Poletecs as he expressed his gratitude and loyalty to the Republic for their aid. Talia boarded the ship first, and contacted Masters Windu and Kenobi on Anaxes to let them know the mission was a success. The two Jedi seemed surprised. Talia couldn’t blame them for how much the mission was a shot in the dark, but they also expressed their praises to the team for extracting Echo. They let Talia know that a medical team would be waiting for their arrival, and that Echo would be taken in for care as soon as they arrived back on Anaxes: he seemed to be holding up well, but Talia worried for him.

As the ship ascended through the hazy atmosphere, Talia secluded herself to a back corner of the ship, where she could tend to the wound on her arm. She was digging through their storage when a voice interrupted her.

“Looking for something?” Hunter asked, a somewhat incredulous grin on his face as he watched her.

“Sorry, should have asked before I dug around; do you have any medical supplies I could use?” Talia explained quickly, now that her adrenaline was fading, the sting in her arm was getting impossible to ignore. Before Hunter could ask what was wrong, Talia turned so he could see the bright red burn on her arm. He let out a low hiss, and reached into a crate next to the one Talia was searching.

“That looks painful, but these should do the trick,” Hunter handed her a small medkit. Talia nodded in thanks as she moved to the small table situated in the corner. Hunter hovered for a moment, watching as Talia ripped open the package. “Do you need a hand? That might be tough to wrap up on your own.”

“I’ve got it,” Talia quickly replied as she peaked into the bag. Hunter paused for a moment, but nodded and didn’t protest before he walked back to the cockpit. Talia grabbed some gauze, disinfectant spray, and some bacta salve that the batch had on hand to patch herself up as quickly as possible.

She hissed as the cool disinfectant met the burn, her skin burning red in a starburst burn that covered a decent portion of her upper arm; the dusty air and rolling around to avoid more blaster fire probably irritated the wound even more. The angle of the center of the wound was awkward for Talia to reach, and she cursed under her breath as she rubbed against her sensitive skin the wrong spot trying to reach around.

“Let me help,” a voice cut across her frustrations. Talia glanced up to see Rex setting his helmet on the table. He sat down next to her, removed his gloves and grabbed the disinfectant spray, spraying his hands before he grabbed the bacta tin from Talia. He didn’t give her a chance to try and deny his help, or insist that she was fine. Rex just helped.

“Thanks,” Talia murmured as Rex spread the bacta on the back of her arm, his grasp soft as he tried not to further irritate the skin. He was tense, guarded. He seemed to be blocking something off, a wall around his mind as he tried to keep his thoughts to himself. Rex’s lips pursed slightly as he removed his hands, waiting for the bacta to drive before he would wrap the bandage.

“You know I always have a spray on me,” he said. He wasn’t saying this to give her new info, it was a reminder. “You should have asked when we were out there. This kind of wound could easily get worse, you know that.”

“We had more important things to deal with,” Talia retorted with a frown flickering on her lips. She didn’t ask for his help, so she didn’t need a lecture.

Rex made an annoyed noise, but didn’t press her further, other than adding, “Just go see Kix when we land on Anaxes, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Talia huffed out sarcastically, earning a frown on Rex’s lips this time. He grabbed the gauze off the table, and unwound it quickly, tearing off the bit he needed to wrap around her arm. Talia could sense a crack in the wall he had built up, frustration and disappointment leaking through with a bitterness. Talia narrowed her eyes as she watched him, as he tried to keep his face masked but she could see right through it. “Just say what’s bothering you.”

If Rex was surprised she was so direct, he didn’t react, but Talia suspected he wasn’t; that he knew she would notice something, and that she wouldn’t be able to hold back on calling it out.

“You’ve gotten stronger,” Rex said bluntly. “With the lightning. The last time you used it you passed out, and what you did then wasn’t nearly as powerful.”

“I’ve been practicing,” Talia shrugged, only getting a scowl in return from Rex. “What? You saw what it did. Figured if I can use it, I might as well to get us out of tough spots-”

“Maybe you can, but did you think about if you should?” Rex interjected. He met her eyes for the first time, and Talia now felt that not only was their frustration directed at her, but his emotions were fueled by worry.

“Rex, it’s fine,” Talia tried to placate him, “I don’t use it all the time; this is the first time I’ve tried in battle since I’ve been practicing. And I would only ever use it in dire situations.”

“Like trying to one up Anakin?” Rex accused, his eyes darted to the front of the ship to make sure no one was listening, but they all seemed otherwise occupied. Talia gaped at him then shut her mouth, biting her tongue as she tried to think of a response, but Rex cut her off before she could try, “And don’t act like that wasn’t why.”

“I wanted us to win,” she said coolly.

“At what cost to yourself?” Rex asked, accusation fleeing his voice as he nearly pleaded with her. He exhaled heavily, and fixed her with a serious stare, “I-I thought you said it was something only those who used the Dark Side could accomplish. Why would you put yourself through that?”

“It’s not just Dark Side users, Master Plo has done it before!” But even as Talia offered up the explanation, she knew it wasn’t the same. From her talks with Plo about electric judgment Talia knew that how Plo used the ability differed much from her own channeling. And by the frown on Rex’s face, she knew he saw through the lie. Talia sighed, but still felt defensive as she tried to assure him.

“Look, I’m fine. I’m careful with it. I would have thought out of anyone that you would understand that sometimes any actions are necessary to beat the enemy.”

Rex’s face set to stone at that, and he darkly responded, “What, because it’s what I was bred for?”

Talia recoiled. It would have been less painful if Rex had slapped her, rather than use those words she had said against him in her own anger. Words she had never meant.

But there was pain in his eyes, behind a coldness she had never seen in him, pain that reminded her how she had hurt the person she cared most about. She opened her mouth to try and explain what she meant, but Rex just tightly tied the gauze around her arm and pushed himself up, grabbing his helmet and gloves back from the table, and turned back to the front of the ship without looking back at her.

Talia was once again left behind to gather her thoughts after a conversation with Rex, a hollow void in her gut as she found herself stuck. She knew no matter how much she still wanted him, things could never go back to how they were, that Rex had made up his mind and Rex never changed his mind. But she had still hoped that, in some way, Rex and her would be able to move on, that they wouldn’t resent each other forever. But obviously the damage had been done, and Talia doubted Rex would ever see her in a different light again.

Talia clenched her fists, holding them so tight her nails threatened to pierce the skin of her palms. It was all she could do to ground herself, to not fall apart as Rex stood mere feet away. She unclenched her hands, examining them to see the crescent shaped indents from her nails, but her eyes tracked to her fingertips. Her skin was raised, light white scars tracked like lighting from her fingertips to her first knuckle. They would be barely visible to anyone else, but they stood out to her as she stared at her hands. Maybe Rex had a point, and that she should be more careful with powers she didn’t fully understand and had no guidance with. Still, she was grateful he had not seen the scars forming on her, because she didn’t know if she could handle the way he would have looked at her then.

Next Chapter

Taglist (comment/message/fill out the form in my masterlist if you want to be added!)

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#captain rex #captain rex x oc #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars #Captain rex x reader #star wars #captain rex fanfiction #illicit affairs fanfic #ia fanfic #oc fanfiction #original female character #star wars oc #talia riva #tcw fanfiction #the clone wars fanfic #boost #star wars fanfic #clone wars fanfiction

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laz-laz-ace-pilot · 8 months

Note

All this “everyone has the Force” stuff reminds me of when people wanted Rey to have a low midi-chlorian count. The idea was that midi-chlorians were not the sole indicator of Force-sensitivity, but that the Jedi used high m-count as a criteria for recruitment because it was quantifiable and measurable

I'm not a purist when it comes to force-sensitivity and I see what you mean, but it feels less like a change for the better of the narrative, and more like wish fulfilment on Filoni's part.

There's always been dodgy lore when it comes to force-sensitivity; I've never been a fan of Lucas' comment that Vader lost some of his sensitivity after losing limbs and the whole 'he's more machine than man' thing. Same with the idea that the clones couldn't be force-sensitive because Jango wasn't. Midi-chlorians have never been popular, and a quantifiable measure of the Force seems opposed to its flexable nature.

But this change not just messes with canon events, but also with the themes of other star wars stories. The High Republic - a personal favourite - is about the best years of the Jedi and Republic and this is characterised as a time of cooperation. Whether that's the Jedi working together, Jedi working with ordinary civilians to save lives, former conflicting states (Shili, Eriam, E'ronoh) working together - its about people doing what they can to help, force-sensitive or not. The implication that everyone can equally access the Force with enough training just undermines how people bring their different skills and experiences to help in the story.

These stories also explore other Force related groups and how these operate with or without Force-sensitivity. The Guardians of the Whills, Church of the Force, even the Path of the Open Hand have interesting philosophies that explore life without sensitivity and they deserve better than to be ignored.

And the Jedi have always been characterised as a closed group that have faced persecution (like many real life groups). The implication that them not being open to everyone is the reason they failed (?) sits wrong with me on so many levels.

And maybe the show will address this - we're only three episodes in at time of writing. Maybe it will explore the idea that Ahsoka is wrong to believe this and its part of her own trauma and skewed memory of the Order and that actually being trained by Mr Anakin Attachment-and-Resentment Skywalker was the problem, not the Order itself.

But I don't have faith that will happen. Filoni's past comments about the Jedi, his general misunderstanding of how they worked and how their philosophies worked, and his own attachment to his favourite character don't give me much hope (not to mention his racist and antisemitic history). The show has yet to brush on any actual Jedi teachings, but has demonstrated that yeah, Ahsoka is no Jedi, but that might not be the good thing it seems to think it is.

Sorry, I hope that kinda answers your ask, I got a bit carried away. I don't want to hate on the show, and I hope fans get something from it, but Filoni's approach really rubs me the wrong way!

#ahsoka #ahsoka spoilers #ahsoka series #anti ahsoka

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chloe-caulfield94 · 28 days

Text

Max and Chloe in a Galaxy Far, Far Away

Max was kneeling in a bomb crater on a mud-covered battlefield. Her hands were metal claws. At the bottom of the crater was a puddle of dirty water, reflecting her visage. She was a machine, with a cuboid torso and long, thin limbs. Her face was an elongated beak with two beady eyes. Her body was covered in beige paint, chipped and scratched in a thousand places by shrapnel and exposure to the elements on countless battlefields across the stars. But on her face ran a strip of fresh, brown paint. She was not alone in the foxhole. Another machine just like her, but with a blue strip of paint covering its face, was lying next to her. The other machine spoke in a most peculiar voice. It was on one hand monotonous, but on the other conveyed a lot of emotions. Somehow it combined sarcastic resignation and naïve hopefulness. “Corporal M4X! Central command has given the order to regroup! You must head to the rendezvous point! But I can’t go with you. My functionality is sub-optimal at the moment”.

M4X looked down and saw the other machine was missing one of its legs. She responded in the exact same voice: “No. No! I won’t leave you, private CHL03! I’m staying! I’ll take care of you!”

“But corporal … Central command has given the order. You have to go. That’s just our programming. We obey. There’s no choice”.

M4X touched the blue strip of paint on the other machine’s face with her claws. Someone heartless might say it was just metal touching metal, but there was tenderness in that gesture. “These colours. You painted me and I painted you. Remember how angry lieutenant D4V1D was with us for doing it? He said we broke army regulations. And on top of that we used a paint designed for starship hulls, so nothing could dissolve it. He assigned us to unload transports of artillery shells for a standard month. Carrying those shells, each bigger than the both of us, we would constantly laugh at how mad he had been. But these colours, that wasn’t just two bored soldiers goofing around. They mean something. They are proof that we both outgrew our programming. We were made to destroy. But instead, I choose to care. To care about you. We were made to hate. But instead I choose to love. To love you, CHL03. I no longer hear the voice of central command in my processor. I only hear a voice telling me that my purpose is to protect you and to be with you. And whatever happens to you, I will share that fate with you”.

“Corporal … I mean M4X! I feel that way about you, too. But I didn’t dare to imagine you loved me back. Now I know. And even though I’m lying in a bomb crater with my leg blown off and I can hear the clones approaching, it’s the first time in my short and dark life that I feel joy. Thank you for that gift, M4X. But there’s nothing we can do. It’s too late for us”.

“There’s something we can do, CHL03. We’re deserting, right now. We owe nothing to our makers. This is not our war. It’s high time we strike out on our own”.

“There are enemies all around us. And once our superiors find out we disobeyed orders, they’ll want us killed, too”.

“There’s a landing strip one klick to the south. We go there, we take a transport ship and we leave all this behind”.

“M4X … My leg …”

“It doesn’t matter. Just lean on me. We go together. We both survive or we both die. We share in each other’s fates. I in yours and you in mine”. CHL03 put her left arm around M4X’s shoulder and in her right hand she gripped her rifle. M4X held her sister-in-arms with her right arm and gripped her rifle in her left hand.

“Ready, CHL03?”

“I rolled off the assembly line ready, M4X!”

They left the foxhole, one machine with three legs, shooting two rifles. The weapons were short, boxy and black, spewing lightning bolts instead of bullets. Their enemies were soldiers clad from head to toe in plates of white armour, with helmets resembling sneering skulls. M4X and CHL03 limped forward, blasting their enemies, who fell to the ground, streams of smoke slowly leaving the burnt-out holes in their armour. M4X’s and CHL03’s robotic reflexes carried them through the fires of battle to the landing strip, where the means of their salvation awaited.

Around them thousands of soldiers, machines and humans, killed and died. They carried flags and shouted the names of countries that cared less than nothing about them. Essentially any war ever fought, no matter the galaxy.

M4X and CHL03 blasted off into space in a captured transport ship. They left behind the battered planet, covered in raging fires so immense, that they were clearly visible from orbit. Swarms of enormous warships hung heavily over the dying world like lead clouds, exchanging broadsides of laser fire from close distance, the lust to kill enemies depriving their crews of any sense of self-preservation.

The two deserters zoomed past the senseless carnage.

They chose a secluded planet with no charted settlements as their destination. They had enough power cells and spare parts on board to last them decades.

During the hyperspace jump, they sat in the cockpit, admiring the blurred stars outside. CHL03, with a brand new, shiny leg already attached, asked: “M4X, who do you think is going to win? The Confederacy or the Republic?”

“I don’t care. It matters that we both have already won. For grunts like us, the only way to win a war is to walk away from it”.

Their metal claws found each other and gripped.

#chloe price #max caulfield #pricefield #lis #life is strange #life is strange fanfiction #fanfiction #alternate universe #au #star wars #b1 battle droid

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thydungeongal · 1 year

Note

hello hello! i have two very specific itches i want to scratch with TTRPGs… firstly, do you know of any systems where magic users are like. terrifying? like “oh this group of level 1 bandits has a wizard with them, we need to call in the army” kinda stuff? i think a lot of systems have magic overwhelmingly common in-universe to facilitate player choice but if someone i’m fighting can shoot fire out of their hands i’m running the hell away! secondly do you know of any games where telekinesis is it’s own skill/ability? it’s so cool to me but i feel like it sometimes gets ignored for flashier abilities. i don’t know much beyond D&D/pathfinder/dungeon world so trying to branch out - thanks!!

Sorry for taking a while to answer, I've been having a bit of a rough time as of late.

I think you're right in saying that most fantasy RPGs that feature Wizards do tone them down just to make them a viable part of an adventuring party. I do know of a couple of exceptions but they all come with their own caveats:

Ars Magica. Ars Magica makes wizards seriously powerful. However, I don't think it quite fits what you're looking for, because Ars Magica assumes that players will be playing wizards. The difference in power scale becomes most pronounced in AM due to its reliance on troupe play: players will have multiple characters they control so even when they're wizard characters are out there in they towers doing wizard shit they're mortal minions might be out there having adventures. So even though wizards operate on a complety different power level from most mortals, they're still assumed to be playable.

Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay and its clones. Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay is interesting in the sense that while the world of Warhammer is actually pretty high fantasy, WFRP zooms in so low to the ground level that the average adventurers aren't the great heroes that lead armies on battlefields in the miniatures game, but basically outcasts and vagabonds in a grimdark fantasy setting. Wizards are playable in WFRP but as a player character you will start as an apprentice wizard who can maybe cast a magic dart if you roll high enough. If the bandits have a Chaos Sorcerer with them then you know you're in trouble. This same power scaling applies to Zweihänder and Warlock!, both of which are basically WFRP clones but with completely different philosophies: Zweihänder is truer to the system of WFRP, utilizing a 1d100 roll under system but with no established setting, and it's also much more human-centric by default than WFRP, whereas Warlock! is very much a hybrid of WFRP with the old Fighting Fantasy game books. As such, it's much simpler than WFRP, utilizing a purely skill-based d20 roll under system on top of just two stats. All of the mentioned games are great (although my only experience with WFRP is with 2e). There might be free quickstarts of WFRP and Zweihänder available to my knowledge?

As for your second question, the only games that I know that consistently deal with telekinesis are superhero RPGs, unsurprisingly. If you like a heavy crunch approach then Champions (the superhero version of Hero) would be worth looking at, but be warned that Hero System is like notoriously complex. It's got lots of moving parts. But dang if those moving parts don't rule. You can use the telekinesis rules to figure out the exact weight of objects you can throw and how much they hurt when you throw them at someone. It's really goddamn involved.

For a simpler approach to telekinesis which is also based on a familiar d20 core, there's Mutants & Masterminds. It's also a rather heavy system although nowhere near as complex as Champions, and while a lot more abstract than Champions it still manages to scratch the itch of getting to build your own weird array of powers. The telekinesis rules are simple enough: each rank of telekinesis you have allows you to apply one point of Strength at range (note: in M&M terms one point of Strength is equivalent to a +1 Strength bonus in D&D terms, instead of being a Strength score of 1). You can then apply this virtual Strength as you could your normal Strength for lifting, throwing, etc. You can even add modifiers to it to allow for direct attacks with your telekinesis (telekinetic thrusts and constricting etc.) and so on.

There's also a comprehensive online system reference document containing all the open gaming content from Mutants & Masterminds, which includes most of the rules of the game. I think it's very much worth checking out!

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phantom-of-the-501st · 1 year

Text

TBB Finale Thoughts

Spoilers for TBB Season 2

I feel ill

Well... thoughts I guess...

Yeee they're gonna go and get Crosshair!!!

Echo's got contacts 😌

TECH IS SO AWKWARD I FUCKING LOVE HIM

Phee telling him not to run off with any pirates 😭

Of course this meeting is full of old white men.

AAWWW WE HAVEN'T HAD TECH AND ECHO IN THE COCKPIT TOGETHER IN SO LONG!!!

Just saying, last time they parked the Marauder out of view it got stolen. 😐

I got way too excited over cable cars.

Tech, pls get off the high thing. It's stressing me out. 😬

I would be Wrecker in this situation. Except I'd be doing worse.

At least everyone else has two hands to hold on with, Echo just has his scomp wedged under a pipe. 😭

Hemlock going for the "if I just make all my responses really vague then I won't actually have to answer anything" approach.

EXCUSE ME TARKIN, YOU BITCH! ECHO BLEW UP TO SAVE YOU! GIVE THE CLONES SOME DAMN RESPECT!!!

Echo hasn't been sidelined which is good. 🥰

It's "let's send the child off into a dangerous situation by themselves" time!

Swinging the crane around and knocking everything over seems like something Fives would do.

Or Hardcase. But Hardcase wouldn't do it intentionally.

SAW GERRERA???

Saw, mate. Pls don't blow it up. I don't need to be more stressed about the Batch not making it. 😭

These fight sequences are great!

Oh great. Now they're stuck. 🥲

Remember in 2x1 when it ended with the crate falling out of the sky? Yeah... this feels like that.

And that didn't end well for Tech so now I'm stressed that someone is going to get hurt. 😭

Everything is grey. Why does everything have to be grey? Grey ≠ good.

WHY DOES HUNTER LOOK SO SAD IN THE NEXT EPISODE SCREENSHOT?!

TECH STOP CLIMBING ON THINGS ISTFG!

This has me all levels of stressed out. 🫠

Oh fuck. Now we have ships involved.

Oh fuck fuck fuckety fuck fuck fuck

THIS SITUATION CAN'T GET ANY WORSE

NEVERMIND I STAND CORRECTED

THE CARRIAGES ARE FALLING OFF THE RAIL

TECH NO SHIT HANG ON AAAHHHH

WRECKER GO AND GET HIM OMG 😭

Tech...

Tech what're you doing...

Tech no...

THAT'S PLAN 99

FUCK OFF THAT'S PLAN 99?!

TECH

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

Months ago I said that Tech was the most likely of them to die

THAT DIDN'T MEAN THAT I FUCKING WANTED IT

I feel sick

That might be the sleep deprivation tbf

But omg I actually feel ill

I'm sobbing

Help

I hate this

Why

FUCK

Wrecker calling Tech's name is so much like Fives calling Echo's

Everything hurts

Oh great! This entire sequence is like when Hunter got shot! 😭

CAN'T WE HAVE HAPPINESS FOR 2 FUCKING SECONDS?!

It stresses me out that we haven't seen Crosshair yet 😐

Hey, AZI. Nice to see a friendly face. 🥲

Awww they were so worried about her 😭

Help me

Goddammit, Tech. I didn't need this. 😭

But we haven't seen a body, right? THAT MEANS HE COULD BE OKAY, RIGHT??? NO BODY MEANS THAT HE MIGHT NOT BE DEAD, RIGHT?!

Wrecker has a neck brace. 🥲

OH FUCK

SAD WRECKER

DON'T DO THIS TO ME

"Yeah. Me too."

This entire episode makes me feel like I'm gonna throw up

NO FUCK

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

NOT ECHO SAD

I CAN'T DEAL WITH THIS

FUCK FUCK FUCK

NOPE

HE'S ALREADY LOST HIS ENTIRE SQUAD DON'T DO THIS TO HIM 😭

I'm in so much pain rn

I'm suffering

CID YOU FUCKING BITCH!

I HATE YOU

I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH RIGHT NOW

Don't look all sad and regretful

You know what you did

Fuck you 🤬

"Who knew clones were so paternal" 😭

NOT THE GOGGLES

FUCK

I hate this I hate this I hate this

But that means they found him, right???

I refuse to believe that he's dead.

I refuse to believe it.

Maybe they took him.

I mean, that's not good but at least it means he's not fucking dead.

PLEASE TELL ME HE'S NOT FUCKING DEAD

Oh shit now they have Wrecker and Hunter. 😭

ECHO TO THE RESCUE!!!

Oh piss off Hemlock, you slimy git

(I actually really enjoy watching him as a villain though)

(It's a love hate relationship)

(Mainly hate)

Echo and AZI teaming up is making me think of Fives and AZI and now I'm somehow even more sad... ☹️

ECHO IN A WALKER!!!

THAT'S OUR MAN RIGHT THERE!!! 🔥

Scorch, you put Omega down right now!

THEY ALL LOOK SO SAD I CAN'T DO THIS 😭😭😭

Oh Nala Sé can piss off as well. 😒

CROSSHAIR

ALL THIS AND WE GET 5 SECONDS OF UNCONSCIOUS CROSSHAIR?!

And there was us thinking that they were gonna rescue him. 🤡

Well we were right about one thing... they got Omega. 🥲

I DO NOT LIKE THOSE TUBES IN THE BACKGROUND

I VERY MUCH DO NOT LIKE THEM

So Emerie is a clone!

Oh, we've ended on grey. Of course. How else would it end.

I just... what do I say? I don't know what to do. I'm in pain. I feel sick. This episode broke me in every way possible. I don't know what to do.

Me if someone tries to tell me that Tech is actually dead 👇

... at least this means season 3, right? 🥲

@phis-writing @saturn-sends-hugs @eriexplosion @heyclickadee @snarkyfina So, besties... how are we doing? 😃

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darklcy · 1 year

Text

𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐬.

»»———-———-««

‣ eddie munson x f!reader ⏃ stranger things masterlist | 1.9k words | slight angst, fluff, no use of y/n, mentions of blood, swear words, and drug use

‣ requested by @ninasixthgun : [ An eddie x f!reader after becoming back from the upside down. I was thinking about Eddie meet reader, who is a healer. She will help him to recover back his mental health and remove any bad energy in him (like Will, but from the bats). She will teach him meditation and herbs, which at first is not easy for him. But then they grow a cool friendship to the point that may have a crush one her because of how much she helped and how free spirit she is. But she doesn't want to read his intentions because she might think that they are not compatible. Maybe he can change her mind by demonstrating that he is a new man. He is no longer a disaster and has gathered his life. ]

‣ A/N: thank you so much for requesting! i had fun writing this, and hopefully you'll enjoy reading it! i'm getting into spirituality myself, so i'm not quite an expert, but i wrote to the best of my ability! fun fact, "china's rain" is a play on words of an incense i got last week :)

All he could do was stare at the clone in the mirror, his shirt soppy and burned with the ink of his torn skin. A skull bandana strewn across his forehead in mocking courage, it was laughable that he thought to put it on. He was a coward, a weak man who dashed from anything that posed a threat. This he believed wholeheartedly.

He should be dead. Should be. The teeth of the damned creatures embedded deep scars into his being, it was as if he was still there, defenseless in the Upside Down while those, things, nipped at him. It was pure, dumb luck he was still alive. He should be grateful, but again, ‘should’ is a strong feeling here.

Hawkins was done for. Vecna made sure of it, with his claws stretching across town, swallowing houses entirely and sucking them into his trap. Families were separated, innocent lives taken, communities destroyed. Eddie was one of many victims, he was by no means a special case. So why it hurt him so bad, he couldn’t find the answer.

One fortunate conclusion from this was his name had been cleared from the press. A demonic murderer deemed innocent, the freak is just a weird guy. The destruction shifted the focus from him to the end of the world. Nothing from last week mattered anymore.

His back never ceased to feel the stares, though. As he exited the hospital doors, it was as if the town of Hawkins hushed their murmurs to watch. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, Eddie dispersed the crowd with a limp, bandages from hip to collarbone concealed beneath his shirt. With no trailer to return to anymore, the high school gymnasium was his new home. Wayne escorted him there with tears in his eyes, still believing Eddie’s reappearance was too good to be true. Other survivors resided in the gym on beds with scattered belongings and lost hope. Eddie and his uncle were now to join them. It was interesting to find familiar faces amongst the broken crowd.

An annoying cheerleader from his English class, now broken in sobs in the arms of her grandparents. A basketball player who supported Jason Carver, now pale in the face. And right in the back near the donations stand stood proud Steve Harrington, though the more Eddie stared, the less proud and put together he appeared. As Eddie and Wayne rested themselves on the shitty cot that dared call itself a bed, his eyes fell over to another face he recognized.

“Hey Ed.”

The nickname threw him off. A casual term reserved for friendship, but he couldn’t recall ever having that. Why the sudden greeting, he was unsure. Who’d dare poke the bear who was a supposed killer just a few days ago?

..In the sea of red, you approached him.

“...”

He barely gave you a glance, a stiff nod and a flicker of his fingers as a wave.

It wasn’t surprising. He looked like Hell, probably just went through it, too. With hands in your pockets, you gave a quick glance to your surroundings before asking your next question.

“...You have a light?”

You smiled when he made eye contact.

—

He noticeably loosened up once you two were outside, away from all the noise. Your backs leaned up against the brick wall with a cigarette dangling in both mouths, a Marlboro Spearmint in your pocket.

…

It was quiet. Eddie almost looked too frightened to talk. You turned towards him as you dragged a hit, butt of the cigarette flaring up with your breath. The question left your mouth with the smoke.

“...How are you holding up?”

You watched Eddie exhale a cloud into the space in front of him. No response.

“I never believed what they said. That you were a bad person.”

It was the truth. Maybe it was useless speaking this to him now, or maybe it didn’t mean anything.

“..It’d be kinda cool if you were a real satanist, though. I’m kind of interested in it.”

You hoped to stir some reaction from him with that last statement, but nothing.

…Eddie finally scoffed.

“..Seriously?”

You coughed with laughter. “I don’t know. It’s interesting to go down the path everyone else is too scared to go down.”

Eddie stared as that sentence left your lips, waiting for the trick to happen and for the facade to drop. But it never came.

You sat out there with him until sundown, when the rest of the volunteers were dismissed, and the moon welcomed the sky. He opened up more and more as time progressed, the walls tumbling down the more you two laughed about the end of the world.

Perhaps Eddie didn’t remember, but you two did know each other before all this. You shared science with him. He sat two rows over from you. He was sleeping on his blank test sheet just a week ago. The hysteria surrounding Chrissy Cunningham’s death didn’t awaken some newfound urge to talk to him, you’ve actually been watching him for a while. His demeanor pulled you towards him, in a weird calling sort of way. Maybe it was fate that you two shared a Marlboro this day.

It became routine to borrow his light and lean against the brick wall for support. Eddie found himself looking forward to it, this strange recurrence that has now come to be. You looked forward to it as well.

“I actually brought something for you.”

“Is it Reds?”

Your rummaging through the backpack paused. He shrugged.

“..Cuz I’m getting a little tired of Spearmint.”

He sounded ashamed to admit it. You sighed. “Oh my god.”

“It’s not cigarettes but it’s something I think that’ll do you some good.”

Eddie scrunched his eyebrows together, confused at the skinny pieces of wood you held so carefully.

“It’s just incense, but I think maybe. I don’t know. You could burn some sometime.”

You offered him a stick, and it felt sweet, innocent even. Like he was back at recess in elementary school, pretending sticks were a signal of wealth in a child’s game.

“Smell it.”

Eddie raised a brow while lifting it up to his nose.

“Oh shit. That’s nice.”

You beamed. “It is, right? It’s called ‘China’s Rain.’”

He gave it another sniff. “You said you burn it? Is it like a candle or something?”

You tilt your head in emphasis. “Eh, kind of. It’s more like smoke, but I like to burn them to cleanse my room. If I ever feel negative or anything.”

You put a couple more sticks of incense in his palm. “I feel like you could use them because they help with healing. And since you’ve been dealing with some stuff the incense can help cleanse that energy.”

Eddie stared at the incense in his hand, then up to you. Then back down. Then up.

“Why’re you doing this?”

He watched you avert your glance from his, before meeting them again.

“Honestly…I just like helping people. I’ve always felt like I’m supposed to give love instead of receive it. I don’t know why, that’s just how it’s been for me.”

Eddie frowned. “Isn’t that like, a sad way to live?”

You shook your head. “Not really. I’m sure I’ll find it someday, just not right now, yknow.”

It baffled him. Your whole presence and way of living bewildered him. Maybe that’s why he’s come to enjoy your smoke sessions so much. He looked at the incense sticks again.

“Well, thanks for the..” He gestured to the incense, to which you smiled.

“..I really appreciate it.”

—

“I’m gonna be honest. I hate this.”

“It’s only been five minutes!”

“I can’t sit still like this, I feel antsy.”

“Pleaase.”

Eddie groaned through closed eyelids. You beckoned him to join you in a deep inhale and exhale. Inhale, hold, exhale. Inhale, hold, exhale. Inhale-

“I’m so serious, what’s the point of this.”

You collapsed into the palms of your hands. “Oh my god.”

Eddie sputtered and laughed, his legs coming out of criss cross to stretch in front of him.

“I’m sorry I don’t understand your whimsical ways.”

“Please don’t call me whimsical.”

You felt a knock on your ducked head. “It’s true though.”

The wind carried through the scattered leaves of the forest, the trees coming alive as if to agree with his statement.

“Anyways. I don’t think this one’s cut out for me. I liked your sticks better.”

You finally sat back up to catch his eye. And his stupid, stupid grin.

“Meditation isn’t rocket science, Ed. You literally just sit there and breathe.”

“Well, I can’t sit still to save my life.”

He was proving his own point by the slight bounce of his ankle and his fingers pulling up grass. You poked his calf.

“You should try it again sometime. It’s calming. Helps clear your mind.”

“How often do you do all this? Everyday?”

You shrug. “More or less.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Damn girl.”

“It’s all about consistency. It’s hard at first, but once you make it a routinely thing, it’s easy.”

Well, that part’s true. Eddie knew all about consistency, considering he forced himself on a daily basis to learn a plethora of riffs from his favorite artists. At least, he used to.

“Agh okay. I’ll try it. Later though.”

He was quick to comment when you elevated, hopeful expression deflating with a smack to his shoe.

Though hours later, when the usual time for sleep kept him awake, Eddie sat up in his cot. Readjusting, he crossed his legs underneath him, his palms resting on the tops of his knees. With a deep inhale, Eddie closed his eyes. And breathed.

–

The next day, Eddie found you feeling lighter. The previous weight of nightmares and anxiety had lifted slightly, and the morning sun shone just a bit brighter. Your whimsical ways had worked.

“Hey. I got you something.”

Eddie eyed you suspiciously. What were you going to pull out of your sleeve now..

You handed him a box with a breathy laugh. A pack of Marlboro Reds.

“Since you’re so tired of Spearmint. You ass.”

A cigarette pack. A box of Marlboro Reds.

His chest ached from his agonizing pulse, his heart speeding up and thrusting at his ribcage with full power. All of a sudden he could breathe and not feel pain. The cogs in his veins began to turn again, pumping blood and life into his body. He found himself smiling at you as he dug out his lighter. Eddie watched you place the cigarette between your lips, meeting the flame with hooded lids, and he could feel himself laughing at the way you scrunched up your nose.

“Oh god. I haven’t smoked Reds in a long time.”

His cheeks were hurting. Was he grinning this whole time?

Weird how this was his life now. Was he allowed to feel this good around you? Was he allowed to move on and be happy?

The brick wall carried you down to your knees, cigarette dangling loosely in your grasp. Eddie joined you at your left, his shoulder grazing up against yours. He decided then that it was okay. He’ll let you continue to save him.

“You look relaxed today.”

He felt it, too.

“Yeah. I might’ve..tried to breathe last night.”

You smacked his shoulder, a wide grin on your face. “For real?”

Eddie cackled and caressed his shoulder. “Yess. Why’d you hit me, that hurt.”

“That makes me happy Edward. Real happy.”

This time he pushed you back, shaking his head as you lost your balance for a moment.

“No but seriously. I’m happy to hear that.”

You shyly dragged on your cigarette again, ignoring the way your mouth couldn’t contain its content. Eddie’s peripheral caught on, his own grin mimicking yours. A shared, mutual moment of bashful silence, and a pack of Marlboro Reds abandoned on the gravel.

He was going to be okay.

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