#I was trying not to make her as pale as Hunter but now I'm just worried I ended up making it a whole other different kind of incorrect

[ray-of-color]

When I tell you that I would literally die for them I mean it whole-heartedly

#the owl house #toh hunter #toh willow #toh spoilers #toh clouds on the horizon #huntlow #winter #hunter x willow #I feel like the color for Willow's skin + outfit is not it #Gotta troubleshoot getting those right on paper #But for now this is what I have #I was trying not to make her as pale as Hunter but now I'm just worried I ended up making it a whole other different kind of incorrect #someone please help me lol

[vodika-vibes]

The Seer

Summary: With the Fall of the Republic, and the destruction of the Jedi, your specific talents have made you a target. Luckily for you, with the right ambience, you can make even the most determined Inquisitor think that you’re a fraud. Unluckily for you, your fraud has caught the attention of some very dangerous spirits, and they will stop at nothing to see you punished.

Pairing: Future TBB Hunter x F!Reader

Word Count: 1743

Warnings: Mentions of Order 66, Reader is literally haunted

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @clonethirstingisreal (since you like hunter ^-^)

A/N: I had an idea, so I decided to run with it. (My husband and friends are making onigiri for dinner with pork and I'm already sick so I'm not having dinner, I guess)

One year ago today, you were a Jedi.

Well, okay, you were a Jedi Padawan who had been sentenced to a year in the EduCorps due to something that you may, or may not, have done.

It had been a slog. So many books, so many papers, so many people lording their intelligence over you simply because they were assigned to the “smart” corps.

You hated it at the time, and even now, a year later, the memory is still enough to make you grumbly. Just, not as much as you used to be.

It’s hard to hate people who were wiped out to the last, after all.  

Sometimes, late at night, you wonder how different things would have been if your nightmares and visions had been taken seriously. Would the Order have survived the Purge? Would the Clones have not turned on them? Would the Council have foreseen the betrayal?

And, like, sure. You know that visions don’t always come true. And you know that sometimes, in the process of trying to make something not come true you can make it happen faster. But! You’d been having the same nightmare since the start of the war.

Surely that had to have meant something?!

Your Master…disagreed.

He disagreed with you about a lot of things.

Not that he’s around to disagree with you on things anymore. He died in the purge…just like everyone else.

You only survived because the night before the purge, the Force practically screamed a warning for you to move, to go, and to never look back. And so you did.

You heard about the Purge 16 hours after it happened. And ever since that moment, you’ve been running.

Bouncing from planet to planet, jumping from job to job, trying to stay one step ahead of the Inquisitors and the Imperial soldiers who would absolutely execute you if they caught you.

That was until you, while working an odd job for a pirate, stumbled across a woman being harassed by Imperial Soldiers. She was an odd looking woman, draped in long skirts and long shawls, with large earrings and intricate paint decorating her pale blue skin. 

The woman claimed to be a seer blessed by the spirits, and could foresee the future and allow the Imperials to speak with their deceased family. She waxed poetic about lucky charms and tarot readings, and, to your genuine shock, they left, calling her a lunatic.

You stare at the woman, your jaw dropped, and she winked at you, before she went back to hawking her lucky charms.

It’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Foolishness.

Ridiculous.

And yet…

And yet, if it’s stupid and it works, then is it really stupid?

Two months later, you open a little shop on Pabu, selling lucky charms, tarot readings, and love readings to anyone who wants to pay you. And a lot of people want to pay you.

You clad yourself in long skirts and loose shawls, and you let your hair hang freely around your head, tied out of your eyes by a ribbon that matches your outfit.

And not a single person pegs you as an actual Jedi.

Con-artist and miracle worker, but not Jedi.

It’s not really how you foresaw your life going, but really, being called a  con-artist is better than being a Jedi any day of the week. Especially since Jedi means dead.

And that is how your days go…right up until Phee brought clones to your shop.

You love Phee, absolutely adore her, but the moment you see clones standing in your shop you are wondering how quickly you can kill her and dispose of her body without anyone missing her.

Still, you’re no fool. So you plaster your most vapid smile on your face and swish around them offering free tarot readings since they are friends of Phee.

You are almost offended when the one in glasses tells you that your tarot readings are a load of hogwash.

Almost.

After all, it’s not like you actually believe this nonsense either.

But, since Phee is a friend and she considers the clones her friends, you decide to tolerate them. After all, they seem very reasonable, not at all like the men you had nightmares of for three years.

And slowly, over time, you end up becoming friends with them.

Wrecker is always good for laughs, and he is more than happy to come around and help you move heavy objects. Tech takes one look at your electrical panel and nearly has a heart attack on the spot. In fact, aside from Omega, who thinks you’re a little weird and likes to keep her distance, the only one you don’t spend a large amount of time with is Hunter.

Echo quietly tells you that the incense that you use around your shop, incense you use to keep force spirits from harassing you, gives him a migraine, and you feel guilty enough that you put them away and air out the shop.

Which brings you to today.

Today you’re wearing shorts and a tank top, and you’ve abandoned your mystical look in favor of more practical ‘running for your life’ attire. 

The Empire didn’t find you. No. That would have been easy.

You can kill Imperial Soldiers.

You can’t kill Force Ghosts.

In your defense, you don’t mean to get Hunter involved.

And you definitely don’t mean to crash into him at full speed. 

Hunter catches you before you hit the ground, which is probably a good thing because running into plastoid armor at full speed is not something that you recommend.

He looks…surprised as he sets you back on your feet.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not wearing miles of fabric.” He says slowly, and then his eyes narrow, “What are you running from?”

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it!” You blurt, your eyes darting one way and then the other. 

He opens his mouth to say something and then he stills, his nostrils flaring, “What is that?”

“What?” you ask, alarmed.

And then the sensation washes over you. Cold, like ice nipping at your fingers and the tip of your nose. Followed by the whispers, barely words, yet radiating malice.

“I…have to go. Now. I have to go now.” You blurt as you try to twist out of his grip, only for Hunter to grab your shoulders and jerk you to the side.

A sensation, like that of a hand grabbing for you, brushes passed your arm, causing an immediate bruise to form on your arm.

Hunter stares at the red bruise on your arm, “Time to go.”

“Yep.” You agree immediately, “Away from people, preferably.”

Hunter takes your hand and starts pulling you away from the spirits…things…that are hunting you. 

Luckily he seems to be able to sense them better than you can.

Half an hour later, you’re on the outskirts of the city and you, who haven't worked out properly since well before the Purge, are panting for air as you run after him.

“What did you do to make invisible enemies? And what are they?” Hunter demands as he jerks you to one side and then twists you so that two different spirits aren’t able to touch you.

“Um…no comment, and I think they’re spirits.”

“Please tell me that’s a joke?”

“Uh…no.”

“You’re telling me that ghosts are real?” Hunter demands as he jumps down into a stream and then lifts you up onto the other ledge.

“Well-”

Hunter just sighs, and drops the subject. He stops for a moment, his hand on your shoulder, and he listens. “Okay, I think we’re safe for now. I can’t hear them.”

You collapse onto a rock with a sigh of relief, “I haven’t run so much in ages,” You mumble. And then you straighten and glance at him, “You know, the spirits are very displeased with you.” You say, “They’re mad that you’re helping me.”

“Yeah?” Hunter scowls, “Feeling’s mutual. Little shits.”

You release a slightly hysterical little laugh, and you clamp your hand over your mouth when Hunter looks at you in concern. “Sorry.” You whisper, and you’re surprised to feel tears on your cheeks. 

He looks deeply, deeply uncomfortable but he still kneels in front of you and places his hand on your shoulder, “You’re doing a great job.” He says, “There’s no need for tears.”

“I don’t even know why I’m crying-”

“It’s a lot, being hunted by things. Especially invisible things.” Hunter says, trying so hard to be gentle with you, and it’s obvious it doesn’t come naturally to him, “Do you have any idea why they’re coming after you?”

“I don’t know if you noticed this,” You say dryly, “But, like, all of the Jedi were killed.”

“...o…kay?”

You sigh and pick up a stick and draw some stick figures on the ground, “Jedi.” You say, and then you draw some more, “Sith.” You draw little angry lines around the sith. “When the Jedi died, the Force made a sharp turn towards the Dark.”

“Meaning-”

“Meaning the galaxy’s gone to shit.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” Hunter agrees, and then he looks at you, “Follow up question.”

“Hm?”

“How do you know anything about the force?” Hunter asks.

“Uh…”

“Are you a Jedi?”

“...ummm…”

“You are. Why the kriff is a Jedi pretending to be a fake psychic?”

“Oh, come on. Because everyone knows that I’m a fake psychic.” You roll your eyes, “You know,” You adopt the wispy voice you use when you’re working, “If you make a healthy change then your soulmate will appear-”

“...you’re conning the Empire.” He says slowly.

“Better a con-artist than dead.” You point out logically.

“You’re not wrong, but I can’t believe that that works.”

“They’re not very smart, and they have a specific mental image as to what Jedi look like, so-”

“Huh…You know, I thought Jedi were supposed to be in better shape.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that I have been pretending to be a fake psychic for the last year and the year before that I was…not at the temple.”

“Where were you?”

“I was at the EdiCorps Campus. As punishment. For punching a racist senator.”

Hunter smirks, “That right?”

You open your mouth to reply but then both of your heads snap to the side, “They found us.” You say as you scramble to your feet.

“So it seems.” He grabs your hand and tugs you, “Time to run.”

#star wars #tbb #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

[larluce]

Merlin as Arthur's familiar/Arthur's shapeshifter falcon AU

@dsabian , @theroundbartable , @theplatanitosqueal , @stressed-but-chill , this part is quite long.

LINK TO THE OTHER PARTS: PART 1 , PART2 , PART 3 , PART 4 (You're here) , PART5

Morgana, Arthur (with Merlin on his shoulder) and Uther having a family dinner. Gwen and other servants enter to serve the food.

Uther: Does the bird really has to be here?

Morgana: Oh, let him be. He's very well behaved. Even more than Arthur.

Arthur: I'm very flattered you think so highly of my manners, Morgana.

Merlin: (chirps)

Morgana: See? He agrees.

Arthur: Shut up, Merlin.

Uther: (thinking) Am I the only one that thinks is weird they treat this animal like a person?

Arthur: (takes a bite of his food) Hum, what is this? A pigeon?

Merlin: (chirps loudly, horrified, and flies away, leaving the room)

Uther: Arthur, control your bird! He left feathers on my food!

Arthur: Sorry father. (worried) He isn't normally like this, I think something upsetted him.

Morgana: Maybe is because you're eating a bird?

Arthur: No, that have never bothered him before and small birds are part of merlins' diet.

Morgana: Wait... (turns to Gwen) Gwen, what type of bird is that on Arthur's plate.

Gwen: I'm not sure... (turns to other servant girl) Gladys, you were with the cook when they prepared the food right? What kind of bird is that?

Servant girl: I don't know, it kind of looked like a falcon but it was too small too be one.

Morgana: You mean like a merlin?

Arthur: (pales) Fuck! (stands up) I'm sorry father. I need to go (leaves)

Morgana: Yeah, me too. It was a nice dinner, your majesty (leaves too)

Uther: But you barely touched your plates! (sighs, to servants) Take this away, and make sure you don't cook merlins for dinner next time, for gods' sake.

In Arthur's chambers. Merlin is in his human form crying, while Arthur and Morgana try to comfort him.

Merlin: He was just two years old!😭 He was barely starting living.

Arthur: (hugs him close, patting his back) I'm so sorry, Merlin.

Morgana: (puts a hand on his shoulder) Are you sure is Claws?

Merlin: I'll recognise him anywhere. (snifs) He had just started his first nest with his mate.

Arthur: Wait, he had a partner? 😧

Merlin: And five little eggs. (breaks the hug abruptly) OMG! I need to tell Brownie what happened to Claws!

Arthur: Go, meanwhile I'll talk to the hunters so this never happens again.

Merlin: (smiles) Thank you, Arthur.(kisses him on the cheek) I'll be back as soon as I can. (turns into a bird and goes flying through the window).

Arthur: (in shock with a hand on his cheek) 😳😳

Morgana: I'll try to get Claws' rests, so maybe we can do him a proper funeral when Merlin comes back.

Arthur: (snapping out of his trance) Right, good idea, Morgana. I'll meet you at your chambers in an hour.

Later. Arthur shouting at the hunters.

Arthur: What were you thinking?!😡

Hunter1: (scared) Bu-but, sire. You told us to get rid of it.

Arthur: Yes, but you were supposed to bury him somewhere in the woods, not get him cooked!

Hunter2: We were going to, but the cook saw us and thought it was todays dinner-

Arthur: I don't want to hear your excuses! (threathening) No one must know about this, specially Merlin, this stays between us. Do you understand?

Hunter1: Yes, sire!

Hunter1: Yeah, we won't mention this to your.. uh.. pet.

Arthur: Now, get out of my sight!

Hunters: Yes, sire! (leave)

Morgana: (enters, in disbelieve and furious) I can't believe you!

Arthur: (turns to her, nervous) Oh, hi, Morgana! 😅

Morgana: Don't "hi" me. You killed Claws! You murderer!

Arthur: You're talking like I've just killed a person. He was just a bird.

Morgana: He was not just a bird to Merlin and you know it! Did you think about how devastated he would feel?

Arthur: He was never supposed to know he died, just that he disappeared!

Morgana: yeah, because that's ten times better, isn't it? Are you even hearing yourself?

Arthur: Morgana, stop. I feel bad enough already.

Morgana: As you must! 5 merlin chicks are without a father thanks to your sick jealousy!

Arthur: (Guilty) I didn't know he had a family. (thoughtfully) How do you compensate a female bird for killing the father of her eggs?

Morgana: Don't. She'd probably just take your eyes out.

Arthur: (sighs) Will you tell Merlin?

Morgana: No, that would just crush him more. Your secret is safe with me.

Arthur: (relieved) Thank you.

Morgana: But you better start acting on your feelings for Merlin before you start killing the entire merlin race!

Later at Claws funeral in the royal garden. Morgana puts Claws bones in a box and Arthur buries it while Merlin watches in grieve.

Morgana: I'm sorry I could only save the bones. The servants tend to eat the royal leftovers.

Merlin: It's okay. If he wasn't eaten his dead would've been in vain. (turns to Arthur) Was he delicious?

Arthur: Ahm... yeah?

Merlin: (smiles, sadly) I'm glad. He was a nice friend. He didn't care I wasn't enterily a bird though he didn't quite understand it.

Morgana: Did you know Arthur thought he wanted to mate with you?

Arthur: (flustered) Morgana! 😳

Merlin: Oh, he did propose me to mate with him once.

Arthur: What?!

Merlin: Yeah, he did the most beautiful flying dance I've seen, but I just couldn't see him like that. So we stayed friends. It surprised me a lot, normally merlins just leave after I reject them, but he never stopped hanging out with me, even when he found his mate.

Arthur: What a nice friend (thinking) That flirtatious bastard.

Merlin: Anyways, I need to go now. Brownie needs me to hunt her food since she's incubating her eggs still and can't leave her nest.

Arthur: (guilty again) Right, send her my condolences.

Morgana: Mine too.

Merlin: (kisses Arthur's cheek again and leaves in his bird form).

Morgana: Well, that went well.

Arthur: Morgana.

Morgana: Yeah?

Arthur: I need to learn how to fly.

#merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #merlin prompt #merthur fic #arthur and merlin #merlin and arthur #merthur prompt #Merlin as Arthur's familiar/Arthur's shapeshifter falcon AU

[cowgurrrl]

If We Make It Through December

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: June write something that doesn't have religious imagery in it challenge

Summary: “I am yours. If I died in this moment, I am yours.” - James Joyce aka the first installment of the winter trilogy [1.9k]

Warnings: tlou winter, reader yells at Ellie, (probably) incorrect wound care (I'm a writer, not a doctor), discussions of Tess, bad coping mechanisms, intrusive thoughts, bargaining with god??, I think that's it

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." Ellie mutters as you check Joel's pulse. He's finally conscious again, which is good, but he either can't speak or won't. When Ellie applies pressure to the hole in his stomach, he grips her arm hard. Good to see he's got some strength left, you think as she winces but doesn't push him off. You look between the blood staining his shirt and his pale face as a million thoughts run through your head. "Is he gonna be okay?" Ellie asks, and her and Joel's eyes land on you. You take a shaky breath and look around the room for anything to help. Fabric, alcohol, even an extra pillow or mattress to elevate his feet to slow the bleeding, but find nothing. 

"He's losing a lot of blood." You say, pulling Ellie's hands away from the bloody rag and replacing them with your own. Joel croaks your name, but you ignore him. "I need to stitch him up before he can lose any more. Check the bathrooms, kitchen, whatever. Bring me whatever you can find that looks like it could help."

"What if I can't find anything?" She asks. Joel repeats your name, his voice breaking over the sound when you put more pressure on his stomach. He groans in pain, and his fists ball up next to him, but you don't move. Neither does Ellie. "Is he gonna die?" 

"I don't know, Ellie!" You yell harshly. She stumbles back at your sudden volume change but doesn't say anything. "Go!" You point up the stairs as you yell, and she scrambles out of the basement to raid the house for whatever she can find. When you turn back to Joel, he's staring at you with hazy eyes. You linger on them for a second before returning to his wound. 

"You need to leave." He mumbles, and you shake your head. 

"Shut the fuck up, Joel. I'm trying to think."

"Go North. Go back to Tommy. He'll take care of ya."

"Stop. I'm not having this conversation with you right now." You say, and he grabs your sleeve and hauls you to him with all the strength he has left. 

"You take her and the gun, and you go. D'you hear me? Leave me here." He struggles, and his breathing gets shallower as he tries to maintain some semblance of control over the situation. You set your jaw as you stare at him.

"You are my partner," you say through gritted teeth. "You are my partner, and I'm not leaving you to die because I've already lost two partners. Two," you rip your hand away from him to put two fingers up. "And I'm not letting you be the third because you wanna pull this martyrdom bullshit. So, just shut the fuck up and let me work, or I will kill you myself, do you understand?" You both know you wouldn't, but he does as he's told and stays quiet as you internally panic. 

You're too far from Jackson to get him there, and there's no way he'd survive that long in the cold. Any sign of civilization is miles in the opposite direction, and even then, you're responsible for the deaths of those hunters. All it took was one afternoon and a pack of fucking monkeys to get a bounty on your heads. He's bleeding too quickly, and the heat of it makes your head swim.

"I got something!" Ellie shouts as she runs down the stairs. "This is what I could find," she breathes hard as she hands you a sewing needle and thread. The black thread is old and fraying, and the needle has touched God knows what in the past twenty years. You pat down Joel's jacket pockets but find them devoid of the old lighter you watched him light fires with just a few days ago. It must've fallen out at the university. 

"Fuck," you mutter. There's no way to sterilize the needle, but if you don't do something soon, he's going to die. You sigh and shake your head. Beggers can't be choosers. "Do you know how to do stitches?" You ask Ellie, making Joel's eyes widen. She blinks at you like she's not sure if you're talking to her before shaking her head. "Okay, then I need you to pay attention because I'm probably not gonna get another chance to show you." 

You grab Joel's half-empty flask from his chest pocket, his place for all the things he tries to hide from you, and pour the alcohol over the stab. He yells in pain, and the veins in his neck bulge as he looks away from you and the threatening needle. Then, in one quick motion, you start a suture. The thread surprisingly holds, and you can encourage his skin back together. You mumble an encouragement to yourself and Ellie watches with bated breath as you weave in and out of the bloody mess with a precision that shocks even you. You use up what you can and manage to stitch the jagged cut together. The gushing of blood stops, and his breathing evens out. He's safe. Alive. Unconscious, but he's alive. 

You let out a sigh of relief and tie off your sutures, quietly explaining the process to an attentive Ellie. "Were you able to find a first aid kit or bandages or anything?" You ask, and she shakes her head.

"Just some old towels." She says, pulling one from a stack you didn't see before and handing it to you. The floral print is faded and seen far better days, but it's the best you can do. Carefully, you replace the bloody cloth with the old tea towel in place of a bandage. You check his pulse and count his breaths before your body can even register the blood and sweat covering your clothes and skin. 

"He's okay for now. We need to change the towel every couple of hours and watch out for any signs of his body rejecting the stitches. I might be able to find something to replace them with, but I don't know."

"Why would he reject the stitches?" She asks.

"Sewing thread and a needle from twenty years ago aren't exactly standard practice for stitches. Nothing about this was sterile, but I just needed the bleeding to stop."

"Have you done this before?"

"What? Stitches?" You ask, and she nods as you wipe your face with the back of your hand. "Yeah. They used to give me a run for my money, trying to keep them from dying from all their bumps and bruises. Luckily enough, we had a connection at the hospital in Boston. Kept floating me supplies to keep 'em out of the emergency room."

"Joel or Tess?" She clarifies, and her name feels like ice being poured down your back. You clear your throat and busy yourself with placing a blanket over Joel so she can't see the shine in your eyes. When will it get easier to talk about her? 

"Both. Tess never liked doctors, but she'd let me help her sometimes. Even then, it was like trying to put lipstick on a pig. Wouldn't sit still," you say. "I'm gonna go wash up. Stay here with him." You pull yourself to your feet and walk up the stairs without a second look at Joel or Ellie. 

You take a scoop of freshly fallen snow from the pile in the kitchen and find a bathroom just off the hallway leading to the dining room. You melt the snow between your palms to get a little water to scrub Joel's blood from your hands. It's everywhere. Under your fingernails, up your arms, even on your face, you realize when you look into the splintered mirror above the sink. 

You want to go back to the campus, track down whatever hunters might be left, and break their jaws. You want them to hurt the way he's hurting. You want to trade ten of them for Joel. Their faces play on a loop in your mind as the dusty sink stains red. Over and over again, you get snow and scrub at your hands until your fingers are raw. You've learned that harsh hand washing after failing to protect someone is a habit from pre-med. Adam used to grab your hands before you could rip your palms open. Joel would turn off the water and wordlessly pull you away. But now Adam's dead, Joel is barely breathing, and you're alone. 

You're alone. You're alone. You're alone. Why didn't you do anything to stop them? Why didn't you take the shiv instead of Joel? How could you be so stupid? This is the other shoe. This is the price of caring about him. This is the price you pay every single fucking time. Is Ellie next? Tommy? You're alone. You're alone. You'll always be alone.

The repetition is silenced only when you suddenly drive your fist into the already broken mirror. You rip down whatever is left on the bathroom walls before kicking the door open. Your vision blurs as you kick and punch and rip anything you can get close enough to. Debris flies past your head, but you don't flinch. You're tired of flinching. You're alone. Another hit and the wall rattles with force. They always die. Your knuckles sting. You're going to have to bury them both. You grab an old pillow and shove it in your face before screaming as much as you can. 

You don't stop until your voice gives out and your hands shake. The room is a mess around you— holes in walls, glass on the floor, and a knocked-over bookshelf. You flex your hand around the pillow, and pain shoots through your arm. Not broken, you decide after a quick poke around. But definitely fucked up. You sigh and look around for the first time since dragging Joel through the abandoned home. 

From the living room floor, the house looks so much bigger. Pictures of a once-known family smile down at you menacingly with their security and perfect, alive children. The books scattered around you range from financial self-help to Goodnight Moon and tell the story of a college-educated couple with enough money to be stupid with it. For a split second, you wonder what happened to them before deciding to reign that thought before it gets too far. Ellie needs you. You need to get back downstairs and pretend like everything's okay. You can't afford to waste any more time up here.

You shakily pull yourself up and turn to walk down to the basement when a wooden cross nailed to the wall stops you in your tracks. It's old like everything else in the house, but you can tell this was here even before Cordyceps. It could've been a family heirloom or a wedding present. It was loved. The people who hung it were loved, but you don't feel any love when you look at it. You walk to the wall until it's directly in front of you, and your aching fingers twitch to rip it down. You take a deep breath and look up at the ceiling, not exactly sure what you're doing or why. 

"Don't you take him," you whisper. "Don't you fucking take him from me, do you understand? It's not his turn." You feel stupid talking to God or the ceiling or whatever, but you can't stop. "You either kill me first, or you leave him alone because I'm not doing this without him. After everything you've put me through, you owe me a fucking favor or two. It's not his time. Back off." After one last glare at the cross, you leave the destroyed living room with the feeling of eyes watching your every step. 

I'm serious, you think. Not him. Not now. Not while I'm alive, you selfish piece of shit.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

#the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel tlou #the last of us angst #the last of us fic #ellie the last of us #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #joel and ellie #the last of us hbo #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller angst

[akwolfgrl]

LFT PART 42

Smoker starred as the kid with the strawhat smiled, so easily accepting his death. He had seen hardened criminals sob and beg and plead for their lives before death. Did he smile because he knew he would be saved? No that couldn't be there was no way he would have known that lightning would strike at the right moment and spot. That could only mean that his life would come to an end and he had simply accepted it.

“Captain Smoker! Shouldn't we…”

“Hey…have you ever seen a pirate who smiled during his execution?” Smoker asked.

“S smile? I'm sure that even the most wicked pirate would turn pale and cower at the moment of his death,” he shrugged off with a chuckle.

“But that's what he did! The boy in the starwhat, Monkey D. Luffy, he smiled…” Just like Him, Smoker would never forget that day. “He smiled that same damn smile as the pirate king! Twenty-two years ago on that exact same spot!” Smoker was pissed off he couldn't believe that history is repeating itself! He headed out the door to stop the pirates from leaving. “Where did they run off two?” Smoker cared not for rain that stuck to his skin and clothes.

“They headed for the western harbor,” A fellow Marine, one his subordinates informed him, pointing in the right direction.

“One of our squads should be there by now,” Smoker spoke, knowing it was only a matter of time before they were stopped.

“Well, that's the thing,” The other marine started, Smoker turned to glare at him. “Ummm well the sudden rain has rendered their gunpowder useless. So they headed back to the station to resupply.”

“So the harbor is completely clear!?” Smoker yelled. He glanced up towards the sky, the rain hitting his face as he observed the storm clouds overhead. “The winds are blowing west…so if they were to set sail they would catch the tailwind.” What the hell kinda luck did this kid have?! “Is this all purely coincidence?! It's as if the heavens themselves want that boy to live!” Smoker wouldn't stand for this, she would have his head one way or another. “On the pride of a Captain of the Marines I Smoker the white hunter, vow to not allow that boy to escape this island!”

<>

“Jeez these guys are so persistent. Should we just stop and fight them off?” Luffy asked as they ran through the streets of that damn town.

“Don't, there will be no end to them. More importantly, Nami wants us to return to the ship as soon as possible. As possible. We don't want to risk the Merry being swept away without us, we may be strong but the marina has more man power and weapons. Not to mention the weird clown guy,” Sanji informed their captain.

“Curls has a point Luffy,“ Zoro hated to run from a fight but now was not the time. He hated to admit it but they might not make it out if they stop fighting.

“Ah! Who's that pretty lady waiting for us?” Sanji asked, Zoro turned towards where Sanji was looking.

“Roronoa Zoro!” There stood a very angry Tashigi, looking like she found out who he was. “To think you were Roronoa Zoro the whole time! A bounty hunter turned pirate! You were just toying with me the entire time!”

“Mosshead what fuck did you do to her!?” Sanji unhelpfully yelled at him. “Just because we went on a date doesn't mean I'll let you get away with hurting women! She's very clearly upset at what you did to her!”

“I will take back Wado Ichimonji and the other two while I'm at it!” She screamed at him. “I don't care if it belonged to your dojo master’s daughter, you're a disgrace! A criminal!”

“I'd like to see you try,” he sneered as his hold on Wado tightened, he was not appreciating what this Kunia-clone Tashigi chick was insinuating. Wado was not just a sword, it was a promise to his first friend and rival. In that breath, Tashigi clashed Shigure against Wado. Without turning his sights away from the swordswoman, Zoro tilted towards where he thought the pier was, “Go ahead Cap, Curls, I’ll catch up.”

“Ok,” Luffy grabbed Sanji's arm and dragged him away. This was one area in which they would never agree. Maybe one day they could discuss it but today was not that day.

After a brief clash of blades, Zoro had released hers’ far from her hands. She had potential but needed to work much harder and longer to reach his skill set. He had pines to the wall. He was close enough to see the rage and a bit of fear but resignation in her eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to cut her, call it whatever you wanted and he wouldn’t give a damn. He couldn’t cut down his dead best friend’s doppelganger.

“I can't hand this sword over to anyone ever! This is more than just a sword, it's a promise,” Zoro replaced his swords, softly backing away in the continuing rainfall. “I'll be on my way then.”

“Why didn't you cut me down!?” Tashgi screamed at him. Zoro stopped and looked back at her, her hair was sticking to her wet face. Her eyes filled with rage and contemptment. “Is it because I'm a woman?! Because I'm not worth your time!? Only to be pitied due to my gender!?” Zoro couldn't stop picturing Kuina and her fears on the same subject. “You're lucky to be a boy Zoro…” He didn't want to relive that night. “You dare to go easy on me?! I'm serious dude!!! Just because women aren't as physically strong as men?!” Tashigi continued on. “How shameful! Of course I shouldn't expect someone like you to ever understand what wishing to be born a man would feel like! To hate your gender for the sole reason that you're not taken seriously! I knew what I was doing when I chose this path dammit! I didn't pick up my sword for fun! I work so hard to improve myself just to be taken as a joke!”

“Don't, don't say that while wearing her face!” Kunia was haunting him from beyond her grave. “I can't cut you down. You look like her,” His hands shook violently, his hand taking Wados' hilt to try and ground himself. “I don't give a damn that you're a woman! What between your legs matters not to me! It's your face! Sprouting the same things as she did before her death! We promised each other and then she died on me! Stop copying her, just stop it!” Zoro couldn't shut up. Couldn't stop talking. “For fucks’ sake, stop haunting me!”

“Wha!? I've never heard anything so childish in my entire life! I've always loved being me and only me for my entire life! You don't get to put your issues on me! I'm not your dead friend so don't treat me like her! It's insulting to both of us!” Tashgi yelled at him.

“Shut up you don't know anything!” Shut up Zoro shut up! He needed to keep his mouth shut!

“Fight me properly, you damn crowded!”

#one piece #fanfic #lust filled thoughts #roronoa zoro #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #zoro #smoker #captain smoker #tashigi #zosan #loguetown

[zoeykallus]

Hey there! I was wondering if you could write about a female reader, traveling with the batch. She suffers from anxiety and depression, coming in phases. There are good and bad days, but she manages to keep it to herself, until she has a really terrible one. And she has feelings for Tech and the other way around, but they haven't addressed it yet, and he is the one realizing something is off with her, trying to comfort her. Some Angst/Fluff stuff... Please? ❤

Hm, this one hits home. Ouch. Sure I can, I actually love the opportunity to comfort myself while writing, especially with Tech 😋😅

Let me see what I can do for us you 😊

Tech x Fem!Reader - The Lowest Low

Warnings: Angst/Mention Of Anxiety/Mention And Description Of Depression Symptoms/Panic Attack/Comfort/Fluff/Soft, Shy, Gentle Tech

____________

Until now, you have always been able to hide it, but suddenly the deepest low in a long time hits you, and you can't hide it anymore. Tech tries to understand what's going on with you.

_____________

So far you have always been able to prevent it, to hide it, even from Hunter. You always withdrew in time when the bad episodes came, you have learned to act by now, to pretend that everything is wonderful, while inside you feel panic, fear, and a deep inexplicable, lonely sadness.

But this one episode is particularly horrible. You blew the last job, a panic attack overtook you, threw you off track, and forced you to retreat. Much to the surprise of the guys, who looked after you in complete bewilderment as you simply cleared the field. This time, none of your breathing exercises or mental retreats helped.

Your back is tense, your muscles tight as if expecting to take a punch at any moment. Your fingers stiffen, a feeling of pressure on your chest, one uncomfortable goose bump after another chases across your body.

A lump forms in your throat and a slaying wave of sadness washes over you. This helpless feeling is awful, you feel guilty of just ditching the guys, on such a simple mission. Nothing special happened, not that you can remember, no specific trigger.

You feel burning pressure behind the bridge of your nose and eyes, tears held back. Your cramped fingers cling to the collar of your shirt as if expecting to be strangled by the fabric at any moment.

The air you breathe is like lead, heavy on your body and hard to get into your lungs. You feel dizzy. An all-encompassing fear has you in its grip, the feeling of being helplessly exposed to everything around you is overpowering. You want to scream, but it seems there isn't even enough air to breath.

You are trembling, your breathing is irregular and heavy. You have retreated to a quiet corner, somewhere behind the landing pad of the Marauder. You are so preoccupied with your condition that you don't hear someone approaching.

Startled, you look up, your heart almost stopping as you hear Tech say your name.

He's standing there, for the first time in a long time not holding the datapad, his helmet tucked under his right arm.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you not feeling well? You're pale and look tense, almost panicked."

You feel a single tear run down your face, then a second, but your expression is strangely blank, you feel it yourself.

Tech is looking at you, obviously trying to understand what's going on with you, to make sense of your behavior.

You never wanted anyone to see you like this, especially not Tech. But you sense that the cat is out of the bag, and any white lie would only make him feel like you don't trust him.

"No, Tech," you say softly, "I'm not feeling well."

He blinks, standing there indecisively for a moment. He glances over his shoulder as if to make sure the two of you are really alone. Finally, he looks at you again and asks, "May I come closer?"

You manage to smile at him and nod.

"Of course, I always like having you near me".

A small smile twitches at the corners of his mouth, then he moves closer and sits next to you with some courtesy distance, his long legs bent. Tech sets his helmet down on the ground beside him and looks at you.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

You sigh softly and say, "I don't see how. That's something I don't want to burden you with."

He frowns thoughtfully and says, "It's not a burden. All I see is a person I care about suffering, and I want to counteract that. You said you like having me around, the feeling is mutual. Maybe I can help you in some way with my presence?"

You smile, feeling touched by how cautiously Tech approaches the matter, although he usually wants to go straight to the point.

You swallow nervously, smile cautiously, and ask him, "Would you mind holding my hand?"

Tech blinks in surprise, he seems a little shy, but he moves a little closer and gently grips your hand with his, closing your fingers with gentle pressure.

He thinks for a while, then says thoughtfully, "You need contact, with something or someone that will give you security, peace, safety, an anchor that will ground you, so you can get out of this slump you seem to be in."

You nod and breathe a sigh of relief, the pressure on your chest slowly easing. You block out the irrationally felt fear, feeling less exposed.

"That's why I asked you to hold my hand," you say softly.

Tech tightens his shoulders, sits up a little straighter and smiles, a very gentle, shy, but sincere smile.

"I'm honored," he says, squeezing your hand a tiny bit tighter to emphasize his presence at your side.

You slowly take a few deeper breaths, a few more tears running down your cheeks.

"Isn't it getting better?" he asks, concerned.

Your smile widens a bit, though tears are still streaming down your face.

"Oh yes it is, that's the relief, Tech. That… Tension I've been feeling has been exceedingly intense, all consuming. When it subsides, it's so relieving that I cry sometimes."

He blinks, thinking about what you said, trying to understand.

"It must be scary to feel that intensely," he says thoughtfully.

You nod in agreement.

"Yes, very much so. But there are sometimes very special bright spots that I would never want to miss"

Surprised, he looks at you.

"Such as?"

You feel warmth rise in your tear-stained cheeks as you say, "What I feel for you is intense, too. The joy of your presence or your attention. The peace and security you radiate to me. The incredible affection I feel when I see you smile."

Tech blinks several times in a row, as if he needs to reload his system. His ears turn red, and he looks shyly away to the side.

"Oh," he says softly.

You swallow, afraid you might scare him off, but he's still gently holding your hand, making no move to let you go.

You clear your throat carefully, wanting to say something else, but not daring to. After a while of quiet, Tech breaks the silence that has developed.

"You like me," he says softly, almost in a whisper, like a statement he can't quite grasp yet.

"Yes, indeed."

His eyes dart briefly in your direction with a quick smirk, then he glances shyly at his shoes again.

"Do you like me, too?" you ask softly.

His ears seem to get even redder.

"You could certainly put it that way, yes," he says with a nervous clearing of his throat.

His comm beeps and Hunter's voice is heard, "How's it looking? Is our girl okay?"

Tech glances at you briefly before answering, "She's doing better, but it's recommended to give her some more quiet time."

Hunter says understandingly, "Okay, take your time".

You realize that Hunter, of all of them, probably noticed the most when your low overtook you.

Tech barely noticeably moves a little closer, his thumb stroking your hand that he is still holding.

"Would you do me a favor?" he asks seriously.

"Of course."

He looks directly at you and says, "If you feel like this again, give me a sign, come to me. If it helps you, I always like to hold your hand. Maybe, long hugs will help too?"

Your heart really jumps out to him as you see the gentle expression on his face.

"I'd love to, Tech."

After a brief pause, he asks, "How are you feeling now?"

"Much better."

He raises his brows and asks, "Are you sure? Maybe we should try a hug just to test if it works"

You smile, having to suppress a grin.

"Now that you mention it, maybe we really should."

He moves closer, letting go of your hand. A bit over-cautious and awkward, he puts first one then the other arm around you. But as you lean against him, his embrace naturally adjusts to your posture.

"That's good," he says, "I mean, that should certainly help."

You grin contentedly to yourself, all at once very happy, at least for the moment.

"That's really very good, Tech"

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@starwarsnerd111

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #clone force 99 #sw tbb #tech #tbb tech #bad batch tech #clone trooper tech #tbb tech x reader #tech bad batch #tech tbb #depression #anxiety #angst #clone trooper tech x reader #tech tuesday #tech x you #tech x reader #tech the bad batch #the bad batch tech

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Warnings- mentioned abuse (not by yandere), injuries, threats, murder, yandere, protectiveness?, nearly dying, term "mutt" used for reader.

This got out of hand lol. (Also not proofread)

If someone knows the audios I've listened to, hopefully this idea is okay.

Due to something I listened to, I'm now thinking of a hate-turned-to-yandere hunter with a werewolf reader.

An extremely rocky start meeting where the hunter finds the reader alone and traps them, threatening to kill them, but somehow gets prompted to tell their story. The hunter had a family that was killed by werewolves, child taken, and hunter poisoned and slowly dying.

You were heavily abused by the pack before going on the run, so honestly his death threats/promise didn't affect you. You offered to help, which he was very begrudging but eventually accepted.

Days pass as trying to get a lead where his child is, and he slightly grows to like you and learns more of what you were put through.

You both finally get a lead, but he's unable to continue on, rushing against the clock to make sure his child is safe. He even gives you his gun with very potent bullets to werewolves.

You get there and manage to take down most, but there were more than you thought. You had to fight physically, getting too many deep wounds but still pushing on. You were NOT going to let a child go through what you did.

You find a simple 4-year-old child terrified out of their mind locked in a room. Luckily they don't have anything besides a few bruises.

You're against the clock with your injuries, the hunter dying from poison, and the possibility of more werewolves coming. You kneel in front of her, lowering your voice to be more calming for the child. "Hey... I heard about you from your dad. I know where he is, and he sent me to save you. I'm..." Well, not exactly friends. But that little lie won't hurt right now.

"A friend of his. I'm not like these bad people, I promise. Please, let me take you to your da-"

She latches onto you, sobbing uncontrollably. Understandably so.

You pick her up and decide one final thing. Find where they have the lab and destroy everything to make sure no one can get poisoned again. And hopefully a cure.

You manage to find it, and a book even showing the cure in case they accidentally got the stuff on themselves. A syringe filled with the right fluid. You swipe it after a thorough read through of the book (and also bring the book) and quickly get to the car.

You speed back to the hunter's house, and the child bolts into the house before you can even get to her door.

The syringe is still intact as you bolt in too, not caring about your potentially deadly injuries, even to a werewolf.

Entering his room, the child is already hugging him. He looks sickly pale and on death's door. Some blood spots on his blanket. He's trying so hard to lift his body to hold them.

Blood drips from your forehead onto your face, but you're more worried about the hunter.

He coughs again so hard that it's surprising a lung didn't come out. But some blood did, worrying his daughter.

Shit. He needs the injection, NOW. you raise it to his view, and with his little strength he gives you a hard glare riddled with betrayal.

"It's a cure. Found it there when finding the lab to destroy to make sure it won't be used by others. What do you got to lose? If you reject you won't make it. We both know it." You're not going to sugarcoat it for him.

He grows a face of resignment.

"I'll still be here until you wake. I won't abandon you or your child at this moment."

"You... stubborn... *cough* mutt."

You roll your eyes and inject him. He passes out almost instantly. You desperately hope it works.

The child yells for her dad. "It's okay. He's just really sick. He's going to be sleeping for a while."

------

And for a while he has been. It's been 2 whole days. You constantly check to make sure he's breathing. It's gotten more even, which is a great sign. Meanwhile several of your deep, still-bleeding wounds have gotten infected. All the wolfsbane inside his house and outside severely stunt your werewolf abilities from being able to heal. Not to mention you're constantly feeling sick and have a serious migraine.

But you refuse to leave the house even when the child falls asleep. You need to be at the house when the hunter awakens.

In speaking of waking up, you hear familiar footsteps walk towards the child's room you're laying on the floor right outside of. Not comfortable for your human form, but again, you refuse the child to have to go through more if there are still remaining werewolves.

Theu stop in front of you, making you look up at him, locking eyes. A wave of different emotions flash through his eyes. "Fuck, it really wasn't a dream."

You feel almost too tired to respond. You start to wonder if just breathing around the wolfsbane too long is going to kill you. Probably if your wounds don't first.

You manage to lift yourself up off the floor. "Unfortunately."

His eyes scan your body, several of which are bleeding through bandages again you wrapped around your torso. Flash of worry shows on his face.

"It's preventing you from healing this badly?" You just nod. "But since you're awake and better now, I'll be off. Sorry for using your medical supplies."

He remains silent for a moment. "It's fine. How long was I out?"

You look at the clock. "Almost three days."

"Three days!? And you're still bleeding!??" Your head throbs at his shout, making you put your hands on it. "Some are infected, but it's fine. See your daughter." He doesn't have to be told twice and bolts into the room. His shout seems to have woken her up. Her seeing him makes her yell for him and hug him again.

You feel dizzy... their voices start to muffle. You know what's you happening and you have to get away. The child shouldn't have to see you die.

You trudge towards the door, open and close it.

Your body drops too close to the house. The nearby wolfsbane not even the height of your body away burning your nose and lungs. You can't move farther. Everything sounds deep underwater. You accept what's happening.

"Mutt!!!" The very muffled voice of the hunter yells, slamming open the door and coming outside. It isn't angry or sounding demeaning as before. He crouches down in front of you. His worry overtaking everything.

How funny. The hunter has grown soft for the hunted. A wry smile comes to your face.

"No! You can't die now! I have- I owe you so much. Too fucking much for you to give in on me now!"

Your vision fades as sleep overcomes you.

------

You're warm. The first thing feeling a blanket wrapped around your body, a pillow under your head, and something soft under you. Your head hurts, but there's the fading smell of wolfsbane around you, reminding you of what happened.

You should be dead, so why is there still a smell of-

"Glad you're back, mutt." A hand you least expected to ever touch you pats your forehead.

You open your eyes to look at him with surprise. That's it. You're dead. There's no way...

"I made sure to move all the wolfsbane a bit farther from the house after dragging you as far away as possible for a while. I wasn't going to just let you die after all you've done for me and my little girl."

You're thankful, but it's weird hearing him say these things when he wanted nothing more than to put a bullet in your head just a week ago.

"And as a thanks, I..." He sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair. "I want you to live with me and my little girl."

Is he nuts? That poison must have affected his brain. "Thanks, but I'll have to pass. It's still rather uncomfortable being around a hunter, you know?"

His body is rather close, a hand still on your head. "I'm not really giving you a choice. You've been out for a few days yourself, and there have been numerous more werewolves running around. I've surprisingly gotten in contact with other hunters who came here tailing them. I'm not going to stand by and let you or my daughter get hurt again. The others are still around, and I've given strict order that you're off limits for being killed. So you have to stay around me."

Yep, he's lost his mind. "You can't be serious. There's no way they'll listen-"

"I warned them I have no problem putting a bullet through their heads if I even so see them aim a weapon at you. That's why you're only safe with my daughter and I. Which my daughter has also grown fond of you."

I go to sit up, but get pushed down by his hand that still hasn't left your head. Your body still too weak to fight him. "You better listen. I have no problem putting silver on you if I have to, mutt." A warning tone, yet he sounded like he's pained thinking of having to do so. He goes off in thought for a moment while I start to panic.

"You know what? I think I need something better of a name for you. How about?..." He leans really close to my ear. "Dear?"

He grabs my hand before I can weakly slap him away. This is so wrong! His wife was even killed by my kind, and he thinks of this!? "You’re... crazy! Your wife-"

His gaze darkens. "She's already dead. Has been for quite some time already. I've had time to mourn her. Now, I need someone else to be with my daughter and I. My only acceptance will be you, whether you like it or not, dear."

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

I might delete this. Too tired to think critically on if this is okay posting considering the first part and idea was from an asmr series. Maybe I'll reblog link to it or something. Couldn't find the script author though to tell for sure :-/

#yandere hunter x reader #yandere hunter #yandere ideas #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #werewolf reader #supernatural #yandere x yn #hunter x werewolf reader #yandere idea #oneshot #yandere #yandere supernatural #yandere fantasy

[enigmajaython]

You know what I'm thinking about Hunter and Lilith again, so here's some thoughts about about Hunter Staying at the Owl House After Hollow Mind (I don't know what we're calling that AU collectively)

Eda noticing Hunters entire body tense and his shoulders straighten when Lilith enters the room and not really knowing how to approach him about it, but she's damn well going to try (after reading a few more 'How to Talk To Teenagers' books)

Luz actually notices him using a more subdued version of The Voice (you know the one) when speaking to Lilith and she immediately tries to have a discussion about it but he has no idea what she means, because that's just how he talks (to scary authority figures)

King isn't sure why Hunter acts so weird around Lilith, he doesn't talk to Hunter about it but when Aunt Lilith visits and he's done receiving his awkwardly loving Cool Aunt Lilith Hugs, he makes sure to sit as close to Hunter as possible and give him one of his underlings to hold, just in case

Hunter watching his sister and brother call Lilith "Aunty" and wishing he knew how to earn that privilege

Hunter not being sure what to do to earn Lilith's favour so he actually starts offering to go on "Missions" for her, like going to the market for groceries and/or elixir, fetching her books from the library from the restricted section, etc. Lilith Does Not take this very well

Actually now that I'm thinking about it, I want more people to explore hunters reaction to other people with curses, I eat those fics up like good spaghetti

Tw panic attacks and light ref to abuse under the cut

Lilith and Hunter are left alone in the Owl House (somehow) and Lilith starts to Bird Out and Hunter brings the elixir straight to her, no matter how hard his hands shake and his vision starts to blur, because this is the one thing he knows how to do Correctly

Of course Lilith stops Changing but that dosnt mean she isn't mad that he helped her out of Pity and she gives the former Golden Guard a piece of her mind about it but when she actually notices that he's not biting back, not even reflexively like he's started to do against her needling, he's not even looking at her. His eyes never leave the floor and his pale face is unreadable as he begins to sweat, trembling hands becoming clenched fists, chest hitching with growing hyperventilation, but he doesn't make a sound, not even a wheeze, but it's all so telegraphed perfectly that even Lilith can tell something is so very, very wrong.

He doesn't flinch when she goes to put her hand on his shoulder but she knows he wants to, but then he sinks to one knee and starts to mumble half coherent apologies through short, withering gasps of air and that's when she truly realizes she's Fucked Up.

#toh #the owl house #hunter noceda #lilith clawthorne #hunter clawthorne #toh hunter #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #tw abuse #tw panic attack #tw child abuse #thats all for now folks #maybe i need a new tag #write stuff #king clawthorne

[thousand-winters]

It might be terrible, but i like to imagine a scenario where some time after the epilogue, just when Hunter has somewhat healed and got used to his new life, something bad happens that threatens his new life and his family, and Hunter either goes a little feral or just shuts down.

in particular i imagine it as Darius getting injured, maybe because of a plot from remaining Belos supporters or even a freak accident, and for double angst Hunter either shuts down, not knowing what to do, or immediately goes after whoever caused the injury, so later he blames himself for doing that instead of actually helping (as he sees it).

Honestly, while the main threat (Belos and the Emperor's Coven in general) is gone, it is likely things will be a bit of a struggle for a while. On one hand, there's the rogue Coven Heads that still seemed to want to keep the Empire going except with them at the helm, aka, Terra, Adrian and Vitimir, and I wouldn't be at all surprised if it's not only them, but other scouts who don't love the dissolution of Belos' reign and would like back the power they used to have.

There were some really weird scouts out there, like that one that wanted to straight up kill Hunter for kicking them.

So yeah, I can totally picture some kind of accident occurring and it would make sense if it's, say, the rogue ex-Coven Heads, going after Darius, Eber and Raine since they were the rebels who they could easily blame for "ruining everything", even if they were proven right when it came to Belos' intentions. How they could get the jump on Darius is hard to say since he's, well, Darius, and I love him a lot but my man is a little bit overpowered with that skillset of his. Their best chance would probably do the same thing they did during the Day of Unity and weaponize someone he cares about against him, because Darius particularly tends to panic when his loved ones are on the line.

I could see them potentially targeting them during some kind of family outing because then they have Darius and Eber right there, which means they can also use Hunter and Eber to keep Darius from tearing them to pieces right there if they're fast enough.

What I'm picturing here is they try to take them by surprise and perhaps they DO grab Hunter, Eber and Darius freeze a bit because that's their kid and they might risk many things but they wouldn't risk him, and even if it's a moment of distraction only, it's just enough for someone to attack Darius and injure him.

That would probably only work if Hunter's teleportation magic is a bit flickery and doesn't always work, but I imagine he would absolutely lose his head as soon as he sees Darius bleeding, and while perhaps the smart choice would be to grab him and try to get him away or stay behind to guard him while Eber fights (like Eber would probably tell him to do), considering how protective Hunter is, I think he would definitely have a little moment of shock and then get absolutely vicious with whoever it was that managed to hurt Darius... probably Terra considering those three skillsets, hers is the better suited for that.

Between him and Eber, they can probably at least fend them off and get Darius somewhere safer, but then the guilt is so gonna hit Hunter because while he didn't want to leave Eber alone either, he just sees Darius looking a bit pale and thinks that not only was it his fault, but his first instinct was to attack instead of staying by his side like Darius would probably have done and now he feels like the worst person on the Realms.

They're going to need a long talk about how protecting Darius and Eber is not Hunter's responsibility and it's also not his fault that everyone knows they're protective enough of him that he makes good bait if they can get their hands on him.

(By the way, this comes at a really good time because this lovely fic has a very similar premise to what you described, and if you haven't already, you should totally go check it out)

#hunter deamonne #darius deamonne #eberwolf the huntsman #dadrius #the owl house #toh

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 7]

Warnings and Information: Intended audience is 13+ (18 if you squint.) **THIS IS PART ONE OF CHAPTER 7.** I needed to cut the chapter in “half” to avoid a nearly 14k word count (at my current estimation)! There will be a Chapter 7.5 with the bulk of the chapter material, and the W&I has been halved appropriately to cover each respective part without being a mile long or spoiling what's to come. ;)

Should hopefully know the drill about my use of italics, Mando'a and headcanons by this point in the series. Mostly Star Wars swearing. Couple of lines throughout both halves get suggestive. Batch throws a surprise birthday party via trickery à la Crosshair. (Read as, to Hunter: mildly "weaponizing" the profession of Medic!Reader.) Vague, passing mention of self-injurious behavior brought up with discomfort and anxiety. Mentions of stitches and vague descriptions of healing injuries. Hopefully the explanation for the reason Hunter's (mostly) healed so fast within two days makes sense [as a reminder we're just pretending we understand how Star Wars medicine works for this AU]. Trying to explain the layout of the house is tricky, but at least bedrooms aren't. Party shenanigans start kicking off. Passing reference to alcoholic beverages, but none are actually present.

Word-count: 5,899

tpp-tpp-tpp-tpp-TPP!

The stern scratching at her door in the afternoon roused her from the holofilm she'd been watching, and she realized with a start what time it was. Blast, she'd honestly meant to grab a bite to eat an hour ago, but she'd been so absorbed in the plotline of the film Tech had said Omega and Hunter had been watching in the picture she was shown that she hadn't actively kept track of the time. Maybe that ruckus at the door was the little stray Tooka kitten she'd been seeing lately, hearing another round of scratching start up. 

Poor little thing - she wasn't sure how to tell the difference between male and female Tooka, she wasn't in animal medicine but at least knew that Tookas were a specific breed of Loth-cat - had been so skinny and malnourished the last time she'd seen it she left a plate of meat scraps out for the little mite the first time she'd noticed them skulking around and hoped for the best. 

Every now and then, the little thing she'd named Spoon showed up, looking healthier with each visit. (Why the name "Spoon", she couldn't remember.) Maybe that was them. "Spoon? That you, little thing?" Blast it, the door was acting sticky again and wouldn't open all the way. "Hold on little guy, gimme a second…" 

Dexterous fingers wrapped around the exposed lip of the blast door and helped [____] wrench it back to her surprise in a burst of frustrated strength. "Who the shit you calling little?" Crosshair inquired in a voice of shivering silk as the medic fully tugged open the door. 

He did not enjoy being called "little" ironically. He'd tolerated it well enough on the rare occasion he got sick and decided he wouldn't tough it out like a foolish cadet might; he understood well enough the woman had her habits given the age range of her patients. But he did not tolerate the memory of the old impressions that he was incapable of minding himself or keeping his brothers safe just because he didn't fit the general body type of the Grand Army of the Republic.

Her hands went icy and the knuckles paled with the force of the tight curling as she tried to explain herself. "Er, definitely not you Crosshair. I'm so kriffing sorry about that; I thought there was-" 

Rrow! Hccck! 

Spoon darted between the pair, skittering to a halt in front of the man with its hackles raised up at the sniper, one chicken-like paw raised threateningly and poised to swat. The toothpick rolled with the dry chuckle in response to further hissing and teeth-baring, the fleeting moment of the marksman's anger gone. "Hm. Didn't know you had a pet, doc. Don't think your Loth-cat likes me."

Her giggle was returned with a single, hearty chuckle as he bent over and scooped the light-furred feline off the stoop by the scruff like it weighed nothing in his hand. [____]'s head wagged slowly, eyes fixed on the feline currently held aloft in the dexterous hands of the often-moodiest member of the Bad Batch. "Oh the little one isn't mine, he or she's a stray, far as I can tell," she murmured, still distractedly watching the pissed-off critter do their best to intimidate the sniper. "I'm sorry, Cross, guess this stray I've been feeding on occasion really doesn't like you!"  

"Nothin' I'm not used to." The drawl of Crosshair's slightly smoky, serpentine voice was devoid of any self-pity or anger she might have expected, forgetting he tended to look back on his time as a cadet with near-total apathy as a way to cope with the experimentation. (It's the past, doll. Shit sucked, I won’t lie to you. Long-necks probably pretended they were deities while making the perfect soldiers for the perfect army. I try not to cry about it much.) "And this little womp rat doesn't scare me. Takes a guy with a tough act to recognize another's; I don't give a Sith's left tit if… she doesn't like me." 

Duh, looking under the Tooka's tail, why hadn't she thought of that? "Spoon is a “she”?" 

Crosshair just nodded and set the wriggling critter down, laughing softly at her when Spoon swiped at him in warning (and missed) before she slunk off into the open door of [____]'s house with a final spitting hiss and bared teeth. Looks like the medic had been adopted by a Tooka kitten now. Crosshair stitched his arms loosely across his chest, casually leaning back against the doorframe to soften his stance. "Guess I should stop circling the gunship and get to the hangar. Sorry to make you play doctor on your birth-day, kid, but I've got a concern about Hunter that I wanted to run by you, if that's alright." 

Right to it, no excuses: Clearly if Crosshair was concerned, this had to be something. He never liked openly admitting things weren't quite right to those he didn't trust. She knew she was one of the lucky few, so she took it seriously. "More than; I take it something came up?" She had a few possibilities in mind. Bad reaction to something she prescribed? Did he need something stronger? Did his brother think Hunter had come down with something since his immune system was going to be temporarily out of sorts with severe injuries like that?

"His stitches. They haven't torn, but they're driving him crazy because those lacerations seem to have nearly healed up. We're not sure how long they take to, uh, absorb? Dissolve?" Crosshair shrugged when he wasn't sure what the appropriate word to use was. Yeah, he'd heard her go over the jargon with Omega just two days ago, but so much had happened since then that the doctor was unaware of. "I'm not the JOAT-med, so I figured that was better to ask you." 

"Right, right…" [____] hummed softly in agreement, thinking before gently probing into the problem, "when you say they're driving him "crazy" you mean…?"

"He keeps trying to scratch at them if they aren't covered with gauze." Blast, that wasn't what she hoped to hear, but it was hardly a surprise all the same. She found them unpleasantly itchy herself in a past incident that necessitated their use after a classmate wasn't being careful with his scalpel. No surprises that student was thrown out of that intergalactic med school shortly after, and she got to be the live demonstration for how to stitch wounds by hand.

To this day she could still find a faint, pinkish scar on her non-dominant hand. A reminder that her profession was only just beginning, back then. The smallest taste of things to come in her efforts to aid the sick and the injured in the galaxy. "I see. Well, glad to hear we're trying to keep them covered, from the sound of things." Look on the bright side. "I don't mind swinging by and checking those stitches, if that's what you have in mind." 

"So long as you really don't mind…" Crosshair checked once more. He and the others, minus Hunter who was against the idea of being used as bait no matter what truth there was to the stitches, were sure this would guarantee that they'd get her over to their housing so they could throw her a little party. Nothing too fancy by any means, but they knew that wouldn't be an issue. Nobody ever remembers how well a party was decorated, just how much fun it was. 

And they did hope it'd be a night to remember, with or without Hunter professing his feelings. Her first birthday she wasn't working at her clinic in a few years, and a long awaited taste of normalcy - participating in a special occasion - for all of the vode. 

"Not at all, I swear. Let me grab my medbag." [____] insisted with a sunny smile. “Be right back.”

“No rush,” Crosshair promised, pulling something out of his pocket. When she ducked back into the house, Cross tapped out a simple message into the communication device.

target acquired ETA five min

think you better take something for your nerves, lover boy

He smirked devilishly at the unamused reply from his bandana’d brother just before the medic stepped out of the house, her bag of supplies in-hand.

Shut the kriff up.

"SURPRISE, KID!" Wrecker's voice boomed loudest over his brothers' and sister's as [____] and Crosshair breached the threshold. 

There were party decorations at eye level and near the ceiling that immediately caught her attention. All the same color/s in various shades and hues. Plastic and foil balloons scattered throughout the house. Tacked to the wall in the central room was a large paper banner, bearing her name in Echo's tidy Aurebesh behind the Clone-specific quirk of a hyphenated happy birth-day. 

"A-aw guys…" she spluttered, voice tight and choked with emotion, "...y-you really-?" She felt silly that she was dangerously close to crying, not quite sure why the simple act of them throwing a little surprise party for her, such a happy notion, was bringing tears to her eyes like this. 

"Sorry, kid…" Echo tutted soothingly, drawing her close to him with the tight encircling of both arms, that steady and comfortable pressure that allowed her to feel the rumble of his chest as he spoke, "we didn't overwhelm you, did we?" 

"N-no! No-no, I just wasn't expecting this," [____] assured her friends as they came closer to make sure she was okay, or going to be, drawing the heel of her hand across her face to dry her eyes with a light-hearted chuckle. "I came 'cause Crosshair said that Hunter's stitches were bothering him, as a way to get me here I guess, and I wanted to see how I could help… I hadn't expected a little party at all." Oh Maker, she had to admit he'd gotten her good, that kind of concern specific to Crosshair had felt so real and… 

She looked up at Hunter directly for the first time once Echo had released her, asking Wrecker to help him pull the party snacks out of the kitchenette and set them out now that [____] was here. She expected to see a sheepish and apologetic grin from the man with that dark, handsome half-skull tattoo, maybe hear a gentle murmur of apology for weaponizing her profession in order to get her to come by; that he was fine, that she didn't need that big medbag carried in her non-dominant hand.

But she could see it when she really looked at his face, the sharp pinch in his brow and the raised tracklines of his fingernails where he scratched around the gauze she could see under the neckline of his shirt, (again in her favorite color, all of them were wearing something in her favorite color she realized), that there was truth to Crosshair's admittance of concern for one of his family after all. "Oh… Hunter, would you like me to take a look at the stitching?" 

Hunter shifted his weight from left to right foot, then back again. "I-if you don't mind..."

She was not about to let her friend, a dear friend and an often selfless man, wave off his needs or deny himself some relief, comfort, just because it was her birthday. "Not at all, I swear. Where would you prefer we take care of this for you?" 

Hunter regarded the question with a healthy degree of guilt. You could take the doctor out of her clinic, but you couldn't stop her from doing her job. Not even on her birthday. Maker, she was so selfless. So devoted to the sick and injured. So worried. 

"Hunter, I really do mean it when I said I don't mind at all. Crosshair, he, uh…" she glanced at the brother in question with a look of uncertainty, and when given an approving nod she continued, "Crosshair said the stitches were driving you crazy. Or he was worried that they were. S-something like that." Of course Crosshair had noticed, as expected, but telling her? That's what he'd gone with in order to lead her to their house? Did he weaponize her dedication to her profession?

Why was she looking at him like that?

Crosshair's hand caught his wrist, voice a sharp but low rumble, the warning thunder before a storm. "Hunter. Stop trying to scratch your stitching, for Maker's sake. Let her take care of it." 

"S-sorry," Hunter tried, hoping to placate Crosshair's temper and [____]'s expression of gnawing worry. "didn't realize I was…" 

Crosshair turned back to the grown woman, addressing her while he kept Hunter's hand in check. "His room is the door you can see at the end of the hall. You won't want to use the 'fresher, still need to mop up some water on the floor." 

"Meant to get a pipe fixed… Got fixated and caught up with helping decorate." Tech muttered apologetically, rattling down a note-to-self with the keys of his datapad at the sniper's reminder. "It should not pose a problem and prevent use of the refresher during the party for anyone." 

"No worries! Good to know." [____] chuckled softly, giving Tech a reassuring smile and a nod to Crosshair so she could take Hunter's hand. The casual nature of the gesture made his heart flutter. "Okay, bedroom it is. Shouldn't be too long." With every door they passed, Hunter just wanted to sink into the floor, deep into the planet's crust if he could. Yes he'd once dreamed of a moment like this, whether that would've been with someone special or just a casual little tryst during the days of the Clone Wars, feeling so dominant and powerful and wanted with some sexy little thing caged on the mattress below him but… 

Those steamy scenes didn't take place in corners of the galaxy that looked so dull. Sterile. A carbon copy of a minimalism showroom out of those one-in-a-million remodeling shows you could find somewhere on the Holonet. 

"Wow," [____] started, breaking Hunter's cycle of thoughts, "pretty tidy in here. Think I might have to ask you for some pointers on how to organize mine, heheh…" He understood the teasing was meant also as a compliment, but Maker, he hated his room. Barren walls. The muted paint the housing came with. The snug, uneven desk he never used aside from doing weapon care in the upper right-hand corner. A few dingy, beat up books on top of the footlocker at the foot of his bed that he found kicking around the Marauder that no one had memory of collecting. 

That's what caught her eye first as she moved past the footlocker to set the medkit at the end of the bed. "Those look well loved… I didn't take you for reading in your spare time," she admitted with a gentle smile, hoping by talking about general things, Hunter wouldn't be so embarrassed about stripping off half of his clothing in front of her if he had something to focus on. As he slowly hiked the short-sleeve over his head she noted the two different names on the spine of each book and asked over the soft grunt of pain, "Your favorite authors?" 

Through gritted teeth as he did his best not to swear out loud, Hunter shook his head stiffly. "Kriff… N-not really… just kinda keep 'em around, I guess." [____] hummed pleasantly, breaking open the seal around a blindly selected fresh roll of gauze. Get the last step ready and waiting for her so she could cap off this unofficial in-house treatment that much quicker for him once she'd relieved him of his bothersome sutures. "Is it just the stitching on your shoulder that's being a nuisance? Or the ones here too?" Gesturing to the larger patch of gauze taped to his stomach, she couldn't immediately see signs he'd been itching around or messing with the bandage tape since the last time he or his brothers had likely changed out the wrappings. 

Hunter shook his head, sucking in his teeth as [____] gingerly removed the medical wrapping taped to his shoulder. It was peculiar that the smaller of the two injuries was the one that hurt most. "Sorry… Doing my best to be gentle."

"Y-you're fine, burc'ya."

"Let's see how turning your skin blue with all that bacta-gel the past two days has been doing." The wrapping removed, [____] was now visually assessing the remnants of the detonation injury. There was no burning, glaring redness or discharge that suggested infection, and the regenerating, recovering edges that were pale and pinkish were a promising sight. She was surprised that the injury had closed so rapidly already. (Okay, she really had to pick Tech's brain about healthcare in Clones to get to the bottom of a few questions one of these days.) 

"Everything looks good. Like, really good. I can remove the sutures pretty painlessly, and you just keep on doing whatever it is that's made this close up so fast. Hiding some kind of accelerated healing factor Clones have from me, or are you using some kind of super bacta?" she couldn't help herself and paused for a moment to have a silly little giggle at her own joke, missing the moment that Hunter's pained frown briefly mirrored the medic's smile before she took a calming, self-soothing breath and went back to removing the monofilament thread. "Keeping on top of your pain with the short-term prescription, too, right?"

Hunter said nothing and just simply nodded; a lie. The last time he'd taken one of his last remaining doses was lunch, hours ago, the last of the nuna stew Wrecker had made. Echo's joking comment that the painkillers made him weepy led him to be more than a little hesitant to take them before they planned on finding an "excuse" to bring [____] by. He planned on finding a moment to discreetly take the now-tardy dose when she wasn't looking and just hoped for the best. Hope that this lie won't come back to bite him. 

Hope that he'll be brave enough tonight… tell her the truth, no more lies. No more avoidance.

“Hey-” [____]’s voice cut in softly, catching his hand wandering closer to the two-day-old injury, “no scratching, silly. I’m not afraid to wrap your hand in gauze so you can’t touch yoursel- oh Maker, that sounded- Nevermind!” Both stubbornly pretended their faces weren’t burning with embarrassment for different reasons, faces mere inches away at times as she carefully cut and removed segments of the stitching, being sure not to tug on the regenerating skin too harshly.

And neither called any attention to how they went from her holding Hunter’s hand down and away from his shoulder to interlocked fingers by the time she’d extracted the last bit of medical-grade thread.

Omega was waiting for them at the end of the hall, hands behind her back with a barely contained grin. She clearly had something for them at first glance as the door opened. "[____] needs a party hat! Hunter too!" Omega declared emphatically, rocking excitedly on the balls of her feet as Hunter and the medic returned from the back bedroom and rejoined everyone in the central area, fresh medical wrapping with a marbling pattern in a blue color-scheme peeking under the collar of the shirt he wore. 

They were the only ones not wearing hats made of thick cardstock and carefully cut ribbons of glitter-foil somewhere on their body. Echo was wearing his blue party hat on his right shoulder, the galaxy's pointiest (and most sparkly) pauldron. Wrecker's orange hat was fixed at a playful angle on his head, and Tech's yellow and Crosshair's purple party hats were perfectly upright on their own heads. 

In Omega's hands there were three remaining party hats. [____] could tell there was a hat Omega likely had in mind for her. "Oh do I, now? Whatcha got for me little lady?" Brighter than the twin stars over Tatooine, Omega grinned before singling out the party hat covered in all of the colors of the light spectrum from end to end in glitter-foil. She motioned for [____] to bend forward so Omega could easily affix the handmade hat to the head of the medic with an elastic strap, effectively crowning her with the rainbow cone. "This one's for you! Which one do you want, Hunter?" 

The last hats available were green and red. It was to the medic's slight surprise that Hunter requested the green party hat over the red, and that Crosshair was quick to step in behind Hunter and help him comfortably adjust it so Hunter didn't upset the fresh wrapping over his left shoulder by trying to reach over his head. "Thanks, Cross…" 

There was a firm squeeze around the right shoulder. "Don't mention it. I'll go get the drinks now. Really get this party kicked off." Crosshair ducked into the kitchen unit and could be heard rooting through several shelves in various cabinets, calling out to one of his brothers after a long, contemplative pause. "What did they call these things again at that one place we tried after getting the ban from 79's?"  

"Oh-oh, don't forget the kid's favorite stuff in the cold unit too!" Wrecker called back, drawing out a peal of giggles from his sister after sweeping Omega in the air with one arm. "We picked up a lot of your favorite drinks tha’ ya typically would have to get imported for your party; all the stuff for mocktails too!" All the fun, creative flavors without the hassle of a hangover the following morning for anyone, and nothing was anything Omega would have been excluded to due to alcoholic content.

[____] smiled at the thoughtfulness and attention to detail that was so evident all around her. "Awh, you guys are too sweet..." Far sweeter than she would have ever guessed nearly a year ago. 

Tonight was gonna be a good night.

"Cross, you're not reaching high enough!" Echo called out in a singsong tone, face lit up in a mischievous smile. "Little higher… no, to the left!"

They were trying their hand at a rendition of pin-the-tail-on-the-Bantha, everyone's sides aching as everyone did their best to subtly mess with one another by giving false directions to the person playing, or a deliberate handicap beyond the simple blindfold. [____] had gone first, and had been messed with the least for her first turn. Once Cross had completed his turn, she'd be taking the blindfold again, maybe even the defunct helmet the Batchers had found kicking around in Tech's half of his and Wrecker's bedroom.

It had no functioning audio sensors or modulator microphone that allowed the wearer to speak to anyone or hear very well, and the visor had been glazed over in fifteen different coats of a thick, black paint so you couldn't even see out of it. That's the deliberate handicap they had to use on Hunter due to his finely attuned sense of direction. Crosshair briefly lamented that they had no alcohol on hand just for Hunter to try to further confuse him beyond Wrecker carefully blindfolding, then spinning the current player in place fifteen times before aiming them at the wall.

Hunter had grumbled darkly about that joke before he put on the defective equipment, saying that the label on the prescription medication (which he'd secretly taken just minutes ago at the time of the remark) warned against the mixing of painkillers and spirits, so he wouldn't have done it. Crosshair only laughed and started repeating the directions for Hunter in a louder voice once the helmet was firmly in place.

Tech had explained to the medic, while he was fitting it over Hunter's head and holding onto the green party hat for his brother for the time being, that he was intending to make the helmet suitable for the episodic instances of sensory overload that would severely overwhelm Hunter, Crosshair, and on occasion himself. That's why, for the time being, Cross was assigned the chore of speaking loud enough for Hunter to hear the directions from everyone. (For Wrecker and Echo, Tech briefly lamented he'd have to rework separate non-standard helmets. And he expressed his earnest relief that this did not appear to be an issue Omega suffered from; he still planned to make one of these helmets for her as a precaution.)

Crosshair's dominant hand shot five inches above the play-space at his new set of instructions from the ARC trooper who was really enjoying his chance to screw with the often snarky vod. "No, wait Cross, liiiiittle too high!" [____] counteracted, she and Omega giggling together on the two-seater as Wrecker gave a thirty second warning. The hand dropped three inches and the tail was tacked to the wall so he could complete his turn to remove the blindfold and inspect his attempt.

He was roughly two inches off-target. Wrecker was careful as he gave the sniper's shoulder a good-natured slugging and congratulated him on his attempt. "Hah, not bad! Got pretty close, Cross!"

"Indeed," Tech chuckled agreeably, scratching down the results in the scoring chart that came with the game, "that attempt is now tied for second-closest to the target with [____]'s first attempt after Omega's first." Somehow the female Clone had managed to get her tail just an inch and a half off target despite how unsteady she'd been after being spun fifteen times. Both the medic and marksman had been two inches off target, followed up by Tech's two and a half, Hunter's three (and in the bantha's foot), then Echo's smack in the middle of the nose (too dizzy much like Omega, and got his left and right mixed up), and finally Wrecker's tail tacked very gingerly between the bantha's eyes. "[____], it's your turn again. Here is your next tail, and the helmet, if you are interested in giving it a try still. I can hold onto your party hat if you wish."

She carefully removed the cardstock hat from her head and smoothed down her hair before trading the helmet for the conical hat from the goggled Clone. "Thanks, Techie."

"Certainly, Miss Medic."

Echo, Wrecker and Crosshair snorted with barely contained laughter at the sight of Hunter's expression of blatant confusion, his eyes enormous in disbelief. Tech of all people calling someone something other than their preferred name - or designation number - was a real rarity, let alone being so cool about having one used on him in turn by someone who wasn't one of his brothers. "Wha-? Miss Medic? And since when has she started calling you by Wrecker's nickname for-"

"That is an explanation for another time," Tech cut in, pretending not to notice the deep dive of Hunter's eyebrows as they furrowed in frustration at having been interrupted. "Perhaps after she has completed her turn. Who would you like to relay instructions to you, [____]?"

She stalled for time to think about it for a moment by once again smoothing down her hair, adjusting her grip on the helmet experimentally. Crosshair had already proven he had a volume, a sweet spot in his silken voice that was good at giving commands and directions with an edge that drew one's attention. She'd gathered many, many hints of Echo's tactical expertise that made him another suitable candidate, but there was an impulse to satisfy some new curiosities of her's since the mystery mission just two days ago… What was Hunter's voice like when he was giving orders?

Would it be like she imagined; domineering and confident without being a touch too stern like other authoritative voices she's heard throughout her life? Would she still hear hints of that same golden, tender edge she's heard him use to soothe his brothers and promise them that they couldn't be in safer hands when he thought she couldn't hear him?

She was feeling strangely shy about asking, suddenly. "Uh, Hunter, I guess? If you don't mind… Just so we're not making your brother do it every time." she added with a careful, teasing lilt in her voice that she hoped would mask the quickened pace of her heart if she could bring Crosshair into it. Crosshair just chuckled and snatched his drink along with her's to go top them off, most likely. "Don't mind at all." Hunter promised. "I'll do my best to be loud enough to hear."

With an affirming nod that it was settled and she was good to go, Wrecker carefully slipped the helmet down her head and once sure she was tucked in, spun her in place fifteen times by her shoulders, a steady hand on her at all times so she didn't lose her balance. Things were well and truly muffled outside of the helmet; the regular, steady dance of her breath was the only thing she could clearly hear inside the cranial cavity of the plastoid bell.

"Can you hear me, ad'ika?" Hunter sounded very faraway with her head submerged in this malfunctioning helmet. It would certainly serve the brothers well if they needed this darkened pocket of sensory deprivation. [____] nodded and stretched her arm out to the wall, hovered somewhere in front of that poster of a bantha to show she was ready, knowing her own voice would be too dampened within the helmet the same way their voices were outside of it.

His voice sounded deeper when he gave the next directive, finding his sweet spot, "Little to your left." There was a muted rumble of speech around her after she slowly swung her hand in the appropriate direction, trying to keep it the same height for the time being. “Too high.” Hunter suggested. “Go a little lower.” It was repeated again, the third word stressed this time. There seemed to be a murmur of praise behind her after she made the minor adjustment, hand falling just a smidgen. “... Crosshair says you need to go right. Just a little.” She briefly knocked elbows with Wrecker as she followed the suggestion, sparking a surprised jolt that knocked her arm slightly out of place and subsequent apology from the gentle giant that she could hear with far more clarity due to his proximity.

“Whoops, sorry kid!” He gingerly guided her back to her previous trajectory and once all were satisfied she was back on track, Hunter was back to instructing her where to go, those deep, warm and smokey timbres all the medic had to go on with the added challenge of the helmet that made it harder to hear the room around her.

“Slight climb up…” She slowly floated her hand up the poster before coming to a stop when there was a jump in the noise. “Stop there!” Moving her hand straight out in front of her, she planted the game piece into the poster and shucked the helmet to see how she did.

The cardstock bantha tail was perfectly in place on the poster.

“Ya got it, kid!” Wrecker whooped, giving [____] a celebratory hoist in the collective excitement. Once she was back on solid ground, Tech returned the party hat and congratulated the medic on her accuracy. “Well done, [____]. You started out surprisingly close to the target,” he demonstrated by lightly tapping the area of the poster where she had initially reached forward after being spun, “and with how well you interpreted Hunter’s guidance, it only took you a total of fifteen seconds to successfully pin the tail on this rendition of a bantha with… several creative liberties.” Everyone chuckled, all in agreement that this poster must be geared for slightly younger audiences given the cartoonish quality to the art style when it had been hung on the wall earlier when they were first getting ready to play the first of many games Crosshair and Omega had thought to gather when picking up the decorations and gifts from each brother the other day.

“It’ll be hard to beat a dead win,” Crosshair hummed pleasantly, handing her the drink he’d kindly refilled once she resituated the hat, “so whaddya say we give another game a try, doc? Entirely up to you.”

She took a light swig of the mocktail with a little smile, head turned to the game. Echo and Wrecker’s game pieces in particular caught her eyes, “Night’s still plenty young, Cross. Think there’s time for everyone to have a second shot at this, uh, “cute” lil’ bantha, y’know?” His sharp eyes caught the same two tails and mirrored that same casual, friendly shrug with a devil may care smile. “Alright Tech, that means you’re up next. Don’t worry, I won’t mess up your precious little scorecard.”

Tech could only direct a look of mild complaint at his brother before slipping his goggles over his head and surrendering them to Echo with a troubled sigh. “That’s not comforting…”

“I’ll watch him!” Omega’s promise was interrupted with a burst of giggles before she could climb out of her half of the two-seater and convince Hunter to trade places with her, leaning into the pretense of the “little sister charm” to sweeten Hunter to the idea of the swap. “[____]’s finished with her turn now, so you can ask her about the Miss Medic nickname she’s gotten while Tech has his turn.” That seemed to settle it for Hunter, the hesitancy to the idea of seat-swapping for “no reason” gone and forgotten in an instant when replaced with curiosity at the reminder of the earlier offer.

They offered each other timid little smiles as Hunter took Omega’s previous place next to [____] on the piece of furniture that encouraged a greater sense of sharing the same surface than the spacious sofa that had been pushed against another wall for the time being; the simple, undeniable fact of being nearly elbow-to-elbow felt more intimate to them both.

After a beat of silence to allow Tech to start his round on the best foot, she returned the smile that Hunter silently prayed to the Maker didn’t look nervous.

“So, uh… where’d “Miss Medic” from Tech come from?”

“Heh…” [____] chuckled softly, quickly considering how much detail she’d include, “Not all that long or interesting a story, honestly, but if you really wanna know… It originally started because Wrecker accidentally used “Techie” instead of Tech when he wasn’t around; that was while Tech was piloting my medical ship back to the planet. Then I accidentally let it slip that I knew about the nickname when the two of them swung by my clinic at lunch to get more medical supplies after they’d heard my last patient before closing for lunch-rush call and referred to me as “Miss Medic”, several times, I’m sure...”

As the two of them shared a little laugh together, Hunter surmising that Tech had been fine with the medic knowing such a silly little nickname because he could now give her one of her own in kind, each of them easily missed the conspiratorial smiles on the other side of the room.

Things seemed promising from this vantage point.

“So far so good.” Echo muttered under his breath with a knowing toss of his head to the marksman, easily playing off the overheard remark as encouragement meant for Tech. “That’s definitely looking like a step in the right direction…”

Taglist: @dragonrider9905  @ladytano420  @the-hexfiles @ilovethosebrowneyes9904​

Note from Frost: Hope you’re all ready for a real long one next time! If you would like to be added to the taglist that is currently just specific for Sorry, Wrong Comms!, (I may start a taglist for all Star Wars related fanfiction projects that will be marked accordingly with #frostfics in the near future if there is interest) don’t hesitate to shoot me an ask or a comment loves. 🩷 

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#frostfics #Sorry Wrong Comms! #sw tbb fanfic #tbb x reader #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #tbb headcanons #sw tbb #star wars au #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #x reader #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #the bad batch #tbb

[atlasscrumpit]

Vampire Moon Knight

Reader insert

Part 2 here

(separate bodies vampire au, they live in a giant ass classic vampire castle)

"Look at the poor thing, she's terrified." Jake muttered as Marc looked at your shaking form in the corner of the cell.

"Humans are horrible creatures, well, not her but the ones who kidnapped her and sold her." Steven said as you held your head and cried.

He went to go walk forward but Marc stopped him.

"Be careful." Marc warned as Steven nodded and cautiously went forward and opened the cell door.

You looked up and cried when you saw him.

"Hello, I'm Steven. I know all of this must be confusing and the last thing you remember is being sold. But we aren't the ones that purchased you, we rescued you from them and brought you here. We don't want to hurt you in any way, I know it's scary. Anything you want I'll get it for you." He said kneeling to your level as you looked at his yellow eyes.

"Water." You whispered making him smile softly.

"Would you like to come up to the kitchen with me?" He asked as you shook your head in fear.

"Alright, that's okay. I'll bring a glass of water for you." He said before standing up and walking away, leaving Marc and Jake.

"Um, I'm Jake." Jake said as you looked up at him.

"And this is Marc. We won't hurt you either." Jake said making Marc shake his head.

"Where are we?" You whispered as Marc slowly came forward, testing the waters.

"Well, we're in our house. Well, castle." Marc said as you nodded a little.

"Why do you own a castle?" You asked making Jake chuckle softly.

"Family heirloom." He said trying his best to not reveal that he wasn't human. He didn't want to terrify you even more.

"And you're vampires?" You said making both of their eyes widen.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Marc asked looking down at you.

"The eyes, the pale skin, the teeth you did a terrible job hiding. And the fact that my father was a vampire hunter." You revealed as Marc and Jake stood still in shock.

Out of all the humans, they rescued the daughter of a vampire hunter?

"Don't worry, I'm not a hunter." You added on as Marc nodded a little. Steven came back with a glass of water and went back into your cell handing it to you.

"What are you guys talking about?" Steven asked as Jake rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, she knows we're vampires because her father was a vampire hunter." Jake informed Steven as he looked down at you in shock.

"Please don't hurt me, I'm not a hunter." You whispered to Steven who smiled softly.

"It's alright, little one. We won't hurt you, I was just shocked. Most humans don't know we exist." He said as you drank the glass of water.

"Would you like to get out of this dirty cell?" Steven asked as you finished off the glass, wiped your mouth and nodded.

"Yes please." You replied making him smile.

He stood up and gave you his hand, helping you up. He noticed all the bruises and scars on your face and body.

"Did those awful humans do this to you?" He asked running the back of his hand over your bruised arm.

"Some of it, the other parts are...old." You muttered as he nodded.

"Poor thing, come on you must be hungry." Steven said holding onto your hand and leading you out of the cell.

Marc and Jake had no idea how Steven talked to you so easily, or even got close to you.

They followed you and Steven up the stairs out of the 'dungeon' and to the kitchen.

You sat down on a stool at the kitchen bench while Steven whisked around the kitchen.

"Now, I know what you're thinking, love. Why would a vampire know how to cook? Well, back in the day I loved to cook, and I still do. Even though we survive on blood we still enjoy a nice five-course meal now and then." Steven said making you chuckle softly.

Jake and Marc sat on either side of you like two dogs waiting for their dinner.

"My name is Y/N, by the way." You said to both of them as they smiled.

Jake took your hand and kissed it softly.

"Pleasure to meet you, darling." He said making you smile and blush a little.

"Suave fucker." Marc muttered under his breath.

Marc and Jake spoke to you about their lives as Steven cooked, he watched you chuckle along with them and wondered why you adjusted so easily to strangers.

The old scars, the way you acted and how easily you adjusted to your surroundings made Steven think maybe your father wasn't the best person and maybe your past was a bit complicated.

Steven finished dinner and gave everyone a plate, including himself before bringing everyone to the dining room.

"Thank you, Steven." You said before digging into your meal, you watch Marc and Jake eat like animals and saw Steven groan.

"Gentlemen, we have a guest." He scolded like an annoyed mother making you chuckle.

You finished up dinner and you sat at the table talking.

"Would you like us to take you back to your house?" Marc asked as your head shot up at him.

"No!" You shouted making them look at you in shock.

"I'm sorry, I just... I can't go back. Can I stay here? I can clean for you, or if you need blood I can provide it." You said in desperation as Steven looked at you sadly.

"Love, you can stay here as long as you'd like. You don't need to do anything in return." Steven said, he noticed Jake and Marc looked a little confused.

Probably wondering why a human would rather live with three vampires than go home.

"Well, why don't I show you to a guest room where you can shower?" Steven said standing up and helping you up.

"Do you need me to clean up?" You asked making him smile.

"No, darling. Jake and Marc are always on clean up." He said making you laugh. You said goodbye to Jake and Marc and followed Steven to one of the guest rooms.

After showing you everything he left you to have a shower and get into some spare clothes he left.

He came back to Jake and Marc in the kitchen.

"So, are you confused about why she wants to stay with us? Let alone offer her blood to us in exchange?" Marc asked as they both looked at Steven.

"Her home isn't safe, she said her father was a vampire hunter, they aren't kind people. I've also noticed all the scars on her body and how easily she adjusted to her surroundings. She's being abused, and I can see how much she doesn't want to go back." Steven explained as they looked at him sadly.

"She's so desperate to get away, she would rather be our food than go back." Jake whispered sadly.

"We have plenty of room here and honestly I think she could brighten our lives up a bit."

--

The three vampires waited for you in the dining room, you eventually came back in a white dress Steven had given you to wear.

"Thank you for this dress, Steven." You said as he covered his mouth and stepped away.

"Steven?" You muttered with worry as Marc grabbed Steven and dragged him away.

"Jake, is he okay?" You asked as Jake smiled and came towards you.

"He'll be okay, precious. Steven is the youngest of us, he's only recently become a vampire, so he still gets a bit uncontrollable around humans." Jake explained to you as you nodded.

"That's okay, I don't mind. Getting bitten doesn't hurt that much." You said as Jake's eyebrows creased in thought.

He gently reached forward and moved your hair away from your neck to see a violent scar running from your neck to your shoulder.

"A vampire did this?" He asked gently running his finger over it.

"Yeah, but they didn't mean to! My father needed some information, so he starved a vampire to try and get said information. I was only young, and I assumed the poor thing was hungry, so I got a plate of pastries for him and went to the basement. That was when I learnt that vampires don't really like pastries and would rather me." You said chuckling as he smiled sadly.

Even after what the vampire had done to you, you still didn't hate vampires.

"You've been through a lot, haven't you, puppet?" He whispered, reaching up to hold your cheek in his hand.

"It's okay." You whispered not looking at Jake.

"It's alright, you don't need to hold back with me. I know you want affection and love." He said running his thumb over your cheek.

"I haven't had...affection." You whispered as he smiled softly and leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

"Just means you deserve extra." Jake said making you giggle softly making him smile.

Steven and Marc returned.

"I apologise, Y/N." Steven said as Jake turned around.

"It's okay, I told her about Steven." Jake said as you looked at Steven.

"Would you like to feed off me?" You asked as Steven looked at you in shock.

"Oh, love. I told you, you don't have to offer yourself." Steven said as you walked forward and smiled.

"I know, I want to do this for you. For all of you, but maybe just Steven tonight." You said making them chuckle.

"Only if you're sure, love." Steven said gently brushing your hair away from your face.

You nodded making him smile, he gently brushed the hair away from your neck, away from the side with the scar.

You bared your neck to him and Steven felt like he would go mad.

"We'll be here to stop you if anything happens, buddy." Marc reassured Steven as he nodded and leaned in.

You felt Jake intertwine his fingers with yours as Steven pierced your skin, making you gasp a little.

Steven was so gentle with you, he kept his hand resting on your hip, as a way to soothe you.

Once he was done he slowly pulled away.

"That was...perfect." He whispered as you smiled at him.

"Perhaps it's time for you to rest now, Y/N." Marc said as you nodded.

All three men led you to your bedroom, you didn't realise how tired you were.

You collapsed onto the bed making them chuckle.

Steven came over and secured the blankets over you, making you blush.

Even the smallest bit of affection made your heart feel warm.

"Goodnight, my good girl." Steven whispered making your cheeks heat up even more as he kissed your forehead.

Jake pushed past and smothered you with kisses making you laugh.

"Hah, I got more kisses than you." Jake said making you chuckle again.

"Well, I can't be left out." Marc said coming forward to you and kissing your forehead.

"Sleep well, dear Y/N."

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #marvel #mcu #Vampires #Vampire au #Vampire Moon knight #Steven Grant x reader #Moon knight x reader #Marc Spector x reader #Jake lockley x reader

[streaminn]

Antigone, known for her unwavering loyalty and sense of duty

"have you ever wondered why the blood moon is called such a thing?" Orion says.

Enid watches him carefully, body tense and knees bent. Was this a distraction?

He continues, unbothered as he circles around her with casual walks. "People back then say that it was a sign of rapture, of the end and destruction of all mankind."

Enid is confused and left wondering why the hell is she getting a history lesson right now? Her voice is careful when she speaks, cracking from misuse with a cough. "Where are you going with this?"

Orion pauses in his steps and turns to stare right into her eyes.

"Because we were born again under that moon, Enid." A rock fell into her stomach at that. Oh shit. This must be serious if he's using her actual name. This whole thing sounds like an omen and she doesn't need to think too hard to know that it is. Being born under a sign of destruction would make anyone concerned after all.

A glimpse of a furrowed brow was on Enid's face when he continues.

"Times back then we're different, Antigone. Just like now, us werewolves could only be what we truly are during full moon." A click of his tongue as disappointment laced his tone. "this was taken advantage off by hunters, by those Mortals you choose to walk with."

Enid bit back a growl, already not in the mood to get body slammed. "Wow many times do I have to tell you- Wednesday is a seer! She isn't exactly Mortal."

Orion's eyes glint with nonchalance, "She will bleed like the rest of them, Antigone. There is no difference."

The threat didn't go unnoticed and Enid immediately straightened up, her lips pulling into a snarl as she stalked forward.

There's a part of her whimpering, already wishing to bear it's neck as something sick churned in her chest. There's a rattle in her brain when Orion growled in kind but she can't just back down from that. Back down from him showing her that vision, of a pale Wednesday stuck in another monster's clutches and it screams of late latelate.

Orion's words scream of a promise.

"Take that back," Enid starts, when she doesn't reply, she does it again. "Take that back, Orion."

He tilts his head and there is bemusement in his cold gaze. He's entertained and she is reminded that no matter how familiar she is to these fuckers, they're still sick in the head.

There's a rush in her ears, whispering and sticking onto her skin.

Make him.

Make him, it growls, scratching under her veins with something akin to delight. Its sick how much it rushes through her head in a roar. Make him take it back.

"Then do something about it," is all he says.

As if that was all she needed, Enid lunges and everything turns red.

By the end of it all when Enid lays over him with cold shaking hands and a whistling with every breath, Orion is smiling.

She's barely there when reality finally sinks in but she sees the bruise on his cheek, the mess of his clothes and the way fur clings to his skin.

He almost looks like he was supposed to transform but that doesn't make sense-

(Why is he smiling?)

There's disgust in her stomach as she presses her nails deeper into his flesh, trying to shake off the way it squelches the deeper it goes. Sometimes oozes and it isn't just blood.

Satisfaction?

"This is what I'm talking about," Orion cackles and his voice- oh how it grates at her skin to hear it finally be alive. It felt like he was proven right, like she fell right into the palm of his hand and her own squeezes at that thought. "You're just like me, Enid!"

Enid snaps at his face, now very aware of her grown fangs - what? When did that even - as she glares.

"I'm nothing like you sick fucks," she hissed.

All he does is laugh.

Orion's eyes are bright, gleaming with a sign she doesn't want to read. "You hear it's call too don't you? Of it's need for blood and battle. Antigone- Enid, don't repress what you truly are!"

There it is again.

A tangent of this its thing and frankly, she wouldn't be surprised if It connects to that damn blood moon.

Romulus mentioned it when they first met and Enid is sick of being left in the dust.

The word Nightshades is bitter in her mind.

"I'm not in the mood to hear it," Enid growls and she knows something is off as her sights blurs.

Shit, just what did she do.

Orion just laid there, almost right as rain and something slammed onto Enid as she's shoved upright. A hand clasped at her arm, keeping her still and the ramifications of what she did sinks in like an axe to wood after a moment.

Oh God.

How is she getting away with this.

She stumbles into her words, eyes wide as she steps back but his grip is tight and his fangs gleam from his pulled apart lips.

He let her win, didn't he?

Orion smiles and that's answer enough.

#tongues & teeth au #enid sinclair #Writing #Au thoughts

[darkcrowprincess]

Evelyn awakens

Lunter au where Belos stabs Hunter:

"HUNTER!" Luz was screaming even before her brain fully realized what happened. Before he fell into her arms, before her hands were stained with his blood. She just instinctively knew what Belos was going to do by that look on his monstrous face. Hunter's skin was completely pale white, and his eyes wide both in pain and (what has her tearing up) relief.

He had jumped in front of her, and took the incoming gloop fist. He had known what Belos was going to do too. Was utterly happy that he could save her. Now he was in laying in her arms, with a bleeding wound. Hunter was implied, Hunter was implied! Implied! Like a broken record from her fathers old collection, that one word repeats in her head as her hands stained red.

"NO! No no no no, H-Hunter yo-yo-u." She couldn't finish what she was saying she was hiccuping and tearing up. Her breath coming out panicked and short. As if she was the one dying instead.. Hunter just smiles up at her in comfort. He is bleeding out, a hole through his chest! She screams again in her head.

And he's trying to comfort her. He shows his gap tooth smile at her, teeth stained with blood "Hey it's alright. Little light, it's ok." Hunter coughs and a bubble of blood comes gurgling out. This just makes Luz cry even harder. Hunter painfully smiles up at her. One of his hands shaking, reaches to cup her cheek. She grasps his hand tight in comfort and kisses his palm. Tear stained cheek touches ruff scar covered hand. Hunters thumb wipes them away.

Luz kneels with Hunter's head cushioned on her thighs. His white cape spread out underneath him like fallen wings. Quickly being stained with fresh blood fallen wings. She ignores everything else around her. The battle flashes of magic, Amity calling out to her. Belos, a few feet in front of her probably monologing like the crazy psycho he is.

All she can focus on is Hunter. She grips his cold hand in hers desperately, eyes helpless. Hunter with a wheeze continues speaking, "You know I don't regret it. Not one bit. And it's not your fault either. I'm a grimwalker Luz. Belos just makes us to kill us. You know that." Luz shakes her head in denial, "N-no. Your worth more than that."

Hunters magenta eyes are starting to get unfocused but he keeps staring up at Luz. "At least I could keep you safe. At least my life ment something."

"Your life always ment something. You were alway deserving of happiness. I should have been the one to save you!" Luz doesn't know what to at do. She grips Hunters hand tight to her cheek, "Please! Tell what I can do, I can fix this right? There must be a glyph or something!" Luz is panicking and in denial. Hunter just continues smiling, his eyes start to flutter shut. Faintly with his last breath, "Luz, you alwasy made me feel like I was worth more, more than what everyone else wanted me to be."

The world ends, the unspeakable happens, Hunter goes lax and lifeless in Luzs arms. His breathing stops and his eyes fully close. Blood stains a trail out of his mouth. Luz stares stunned and in disbelief at this. "Hunter! Hunter! Wake up Hunter! HUNTER! WAKE UP HUNTER!," begs Luz in panic. Her sobs turn into howls. Heartbroken wild howls. Something inside of Luz breaks and shatters. Thousands of shards breaking and piercing her heart. She holds Hunters form close and lets out wails and screams.

Everyone else freezes and stops fighting at the howls and screams. Unbeknownst to Luz the earing belonging to Evelyn Clawthorne starts glowing. Like a light glyph, the moon pendant earing glows. On Hunters form his sun earing stars glowing as well. Soon the light glyph glow spreads out to cover Luz and Hunter whole and blinds everyone to them. Luz in the middle of that glowing hears someone singing softly. Like a lullaby trying to comfort someone from a nightmare.

Deep in my soul

Love so strong

It takes control

Now we both know

The secrets bared

The feelings show

Driven far apart

I'll make a wish, on a shooting star.

Luz has never heard the song or voice before. But its comforting somehow. In a strange trance, she starts singing with the voice. Singing to Hunter with that voice. Till both their voices become one.

There will come a day

Somewhere far away

In your arms I'll stay

My only love

Even though you're gone

Love will still live on

The feeling is so strong

My only love

My only love

The light changes Luz, and in her places isn't Luz anymore but someone else, Evelyn Clawthorne. Evelyn with dazed eyes, and dry tears keep singing. The song becoming a chant, a spell to save someone.

You've reached the deepest part

Of the secret in my heart

I've known it from the start

My only love

Amity moves to go to Luz, to do what she doesn't know. A hand stops her, it's Eda watching with a sad yet amazed look. Amity angry yells,"we need to help her!" Eda finally looks to Amity with a serious look. " We can't help her. Thats a powerful spell chant, bard magic. We interrupt the chant in any way we could all suffer from the backlash. Luz, Evelyn. Whoever she is right now. Needs to finsih the chant."

All the while Evelyn keeps chanting. The more she chants, the more Hunter glows. His wounds start healing, the blood disappears, Hunter starts brbreathing again. His slow heart beat that was about to die starts up again.

You've reached the deepest part

Of the secret in my heart

I've known it from the start

My only love

My only loves

Soon at the end of her song, a flash happens. Evelyn disappears, in her place is Luz. Hunter is breathing again. Faint but alive. Luz in relief and exhaustion passes out, fainting on his form. Her head landing weakly on his chest, his heartbeat a safehaven that luls her to sleep.

Belos watches what happens with a confused look, which soon turns to horrible anger. "That song! No Evelyn! I wont let you take him from me again!" Belos in another fit of rage goes to stab the two again. A wall of thorns a goo stops the violent hit. Willow andAmity together protect them. "Eda!"cries Amity, "take them an go!" The two girls are having difficulty holding up the wall from the continuing angry gloop hits.

Eda shakes herself from her awe look. "Right, ok kiddos time to go!" Eda transforms into Harpy Eda. Gently picking up the two teens, she soon flies away with them in her arms. King clinging to her shoulders.

King scared, looks at the two passed out teens. He has no idea what happens. But whatever it is, he's greatful for it. Nervous and scared, King asks Eda hoping for the answers, that everything will be alright, " Eda, will they be ok?"

Eda doesn't look at the asleep in her arms. Focusing on flying away from the battle, but she holds them tight and secure. Their earings faintly glow unbeknownst to them.

Eda to King, eyes to the sky, searching for home, the owl house, "I don't know King, I really don't know." Eda thinks of Bard songs and family secrets. Evelyn song repeats in her head. "I really don't know kid."

*song that Luz/Evelyn sings*

#the owl house #lunter #huntceda #luz x hunter #goldenlight #hunter x luz #goldenluz #my writing #sailor moon #evelyn clawthorne #caleb wittebane #my art #bring 👏🏻 on 👏🏻 the 👏🏻 angst 👏🏻 #yes i'm a lunter shipper #huntluz

[zmediaoutlet]

fic: the spare bedroom

the nostalgia bug has got me good, y'all. And man, it's so much easier to write for a new fandom, haha. For the four of you who might see this --

title: the spare bedroom pairing: Cloud/Barret rating: E length: 5000 tags: Game: Final Fantasy VII Rebirth (2024), Gongaga (Compilation of FFVII), Friends With Benefits, Size Kink, Oral Sex

summary: After getting out of the desert and making their way to Gongaga, everyone splits up. Cloud comes to check on Barret.

(read on AO3)

Cissnei's house is nice enough. Small. A few beds, like maybe desperate folks have crashed here before. A kitchen. Maybe Tifa'll cook something, if they're lucky. Pay back their host for her generosity. From the burn marks on the stove they better not rely on Cissnei to provide.

Barret's not hungry, though. He's tired but he doesn't want to sleep. Piece of shit of a day, worse than just about any he's had in four years. He sits on the bed shoved against the wall in the back room and rests his elbows on his knees, trying to figure it. Between the plate getting dropped and losing his team and the reactor back in Corel blowing and his arm being shot to bloody broken bits—yeah, he's got a list. Previously he'd had the ranking pretty well defined. Maybe on some later day he'll feel less like a sorry sack of shit about the whole thing but right now, every time he closes his eyes he sees that holding shack at the prison, and he feels the hot dust under his fingers, and in his ears, his best friend saying—

"What are you doing," Cloud says. Barret jolts, opens his eyes.

"I'm bo-ored," Yuffie says, from her slump in the living room around the corner. "This town was supposed to have materia."

"It isn't just going to appear midair. I thought you were a hunter. Go find it." Barret snorts. Kid doesn't even sound like he's trying to be rude. Perfectly practical, that's our SOLDIER. Yuffie makes some whiny noise—Barret is truly not looking forward to Marlene being fifteen—and Cloud sighs, and like he's making a great concession says, "I think I heard the GYC guys talking about training with magic. Maybe you can convince one of them to hand something over."

"Really?" she squeals, and then, calling like to a distant friend, "Materia, never fear! You shall be mine!"

Running sneakers on the stone, the front door slamming closed. Barret tips his head back against the wall, watches the afternoon light coming in through the strange stone-hewed windows. Town's nice. Peaceful. If it were some other day he bets he could enjoy it.

Cloud appears in the archway. His lips part on seeing Barret and then he shakes his head. "Figures. Last place I look."

"Ain't everything in the last place you'd look?" Barret says. He stretches his boots out on the stones. "'Cause you'd stop looking then, right?"

Those big, pretty eyes narrow. "Right." Cloud studies his face and Barret lets him. Nearly all his awful secrets are out in the light, now. Don't make sense to pretend otherwise. Anyway, the rest of 'em didn't abandon him in the desert or kill him where he stood, so he figures little fearless leader here isn't about to run him through. Though, really…

"You need something?" Barret says. Better to head those kinds of thoughts off at the pass. "We ain't moving out already, are we?"

Slight head-shake. "Mission break. We don't even know if that reactor's the right place to look. Everyone needs some downtime."

Barret's got enough going on that he thinks he can be forgiven how it takes him a few seconds. Cloud's looking at the ground, his arms folded over his skinny chest, and Barret stares at him in silence until he sees how the kid's ears and cheekbones are going that telltale pale pink. He'd laugh if he didn't feel like his guts had been torn out and left all over the desert. "Don't know if I'm gonna be good company for that, man," he says.

Cloud rubs the back of his neck. "You're never good company," he says, after a second, and Barret's surprised enough to snort. Cloud's mouth tilts, barely, and then his jaw firms. "That was—messed up, today. It shouldn't have gone down like that."

"My best friend shouldn't have been mown down in a hail of bullets by Shinra goons? With it being my fault?" Barret shrugs. "Yeah, guess I'd agree with that."

Strangest look on the kid's face. He blinks hard, shakes his head. Barret frowns—he knows he sounds bitter but he didn't mean to make the kid cry, damn—but after a few seconds Cloud says, softer than he normally says just about anything, "I can't imagine." He stands there, quiet, while Barret takes a full breath, deep in his lungs, trying to clear out the thick tense fucked-up misery that's solid there, all of a sudden, his chest full of iron ore and sandstorms. Then Cloud steps forward, hands loose at his sides, cheeks pink, chin lifted. "Let me help take your mind off it."

"Cloud—" Barret starts, but Cloud gestures vaguely to the rest of town, interrupts with: "Yuffie's out chasing materia; Red's mushroom hunting; I think Cait's charging; Tifa and Aerith are… I don't know, they're doing girl stuff." He tips his head to the side, toward the real bedroom. "I'm betting that door locks."

Barret sighs. "You thought of everything, huh?"

"I try," Cloud says. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth and lets it out slow through his teeth, so it shines in the dim light. Nervous and doing a hell of a job of hiding it, and it might even work if Barret hadn't seen his badass act fail about fifty times by now. "I don't know how to make it better. Maybe it doesn't get better. But there could be an hour that didn't suck."

Damn if the kid hasn't had a 180 in personality from the day they met. Barret's heart's still lead, but—hell, the kid's right. He doesn't want to feel like this anymore. "Long as you promise it won't suck," he says. Feels heavy coming out but, damn, he's trying.

Cloud steps forward between his boots. "Or what," he says, dry.

Barret reaches out, flattens his hand over the kid's chest. The tank's thick wool, surprisingly soft. "Ain't got the energy to mess with you, man," Barret says, more honest than he means to be. Cloud's eyes change, quick as that. He gets a little nod. Barret curls a finger under one of the leather straps on Cloud's armor and tugs. Cloud leans down slow, bending at the waist, pausing for some reason when his breath touches Barret's skin—meeting Barret's eyes, checking, like Barret's some virgin that needs to be gentled—and Barret holds there like a stone until Cloud reaches whatever internal decision had to get made and sinks down the final few inches and kisses him, close-mouthed. Sweet.

He is sweet. Clumsy still, even if they've done this already. Barret holds him by the small of the back over the thick leather brace and lets Cloud take the lead, the weight still dragging at him, but distracted at least—the kid's skin smelling like salt and river-water and the jungle green they waded through to get here and also that weird sharp tang that's always around him, the mako seeping up somehow through his pores. His girl-soft mouth and his girl-soft skin, the touch of wet against Barret's lower lip, his hands warm even through the leather gloves when he frames Barret's jaw, when he sucks in a shuddery breath through his nose, when he makes this tiny deep sound in his chest, like he's tasting something he's been wanting for a while.

Barret's gut wakes, slow. Like it's remembering that he's a man and not just a hollow thing for grief to fill. He presses Cloud's mouth wider, licks his top lip, and Cloud shudders, lets Barret kiss him—deeper—his hands sliding from Barret's jaw to clench in his vest. Then he breaks away—mouth red, wet—and blinks at Barret, and then pulls at his vest, hard, that unnatural strength hauling Barret upright before he's ready so he stumbles forward into the kid, who catches him like it's nothing, and pulls again, until they're in the bedroom, the door slamming behind Barret's back as Cloud pushes him up against it. Cloud has to lift up on his toes and Barret has to bend to get their mouths together again but damn if it's not worth it, with the kid better every time, making those little noises like he's surprised, like he's learning something, like he didn't know he could like it. Hot as hell and not the first time Barret's thought it and certainly not the last, with this warmth building up in him. He was dead ten minutes ago and now he wants—damn, he wants a lot, too much, shit he can't do with responsibility about to come knocking any second, in the bedroom of some stranger's house, with a door that—

"No lock," Barret says, fumbling behind himself. Shit, shit—

Cloud stares up at him hazily, breathing heavy. "Fuck it," he says, rough. "You're a doorstop, right?"

"Screw you," Barret says, surprised into laughing, and Cloud smiles at him and then hooks his sword off that magnet on his back, leans it against the wall—careful like he always is, like the thing that cuts dragons in half will get chipped if he doesn't treat it nice—and then pushes right back in and kisses him, wrapping his arm around Barret's neck, pulling him down enough that it's easy, and then his other hand skimming down Barret's belly to his belt to the front of his fatigues, gripping there, small but firm.

Hell of a lot bolder than he was before. Barret grunts, dips and kisses the kid's jaw, lets his hips curl forward. He's not all the way there but Cloud's curious, feeling the length and the thickening girth and it feels—damn, just right, muffled pressure that's not enough to go crazy over but that feels—like a strong hand gripping his and pulling him out of swamp-muck. His nuts don't mind, that's for damn sure. He drags his fingers down the center of Cloud's back, pressing through the leather, kisses there under the kid's ear and grips his ass in a big handful, squeezes, gets a sweet tiny gasp against his jaw that makes him grin, all unexpected.

"Shut up," Cloud said, and then before Barret can protest that he didn't say nothing at all, he immediately says, "Do you want to—like before?"

Fucking the sweat-damp tunnel between Cloud's thighs, the kid squirming and panting and overcome under his bulk, so hot he's half-surprised the room didn't catch fire. Something that'll be good dreams, as long as he manages to keep his sorry ass alive. Still—"Don't think we can screw up Miss Cissnei's bedroom like that," he says. Regretting it sincerely but also somewhat glad to see Cloud pull back and blink, confused. "Made a mess, creaming you up."

His cheeks are about the color of one of those hibiscus outside, speaking of catching fire. "Right," he says. Just barely unsteady. Barret squeezes his ass again, pulls him in closer against his thigh, and Cloud half-stumbles and—yeah, he's hard too, stiff enough through the uniform that Barret could probably just get the kid to ride his leg, desperate and dizzy with it until he made a mess of himself. And that'd be fun as hell, especially if excuses had to get made about ducking back out to the river for a swim, but Barret's more selfish than that, and, anyway—

"Right," Cloud says again, harder, and then licks his lips, and drops without so much as a by-your-leave to his knees—drops, all at once, hitting the floor with a thud—and reaches for Barret's belt, and Barret's too shocked-stupid to stop him.

Belts aren't complicated and neither are trousers and Cloud's got him unzipped in record time, and that's also when Cloud gets to find out that it's been a long journey and there hasn't been much time for worrying about the delicates. He takes a deep breath and curls his hands into the waistband. "Commando, huh?" He flicks his eyes up.

"You complainin'?" Barret says, spreading his boots. Goddamn, that's a sight.

"I figured you'd need a special sling for this thing," Cloud says, cool as a mountaintop like Barret can't see his ear-tips glowing red under the mess of his hair. He pops the bracer on his right wrist and drags the leather glove off with his teeth, and it's ghostly-pale fingertips on the low of Barret's stomach, dragging down the trail from his navel to the bush he's let grow kinda thick and then touching the root, curious, feeling him all fat and ready. Ready—damn, feels like he could hammer nails—but he doesn't have to wait much longer, with Cloud's fingers peeling back the v of the fatigues and pulling down just enough that his dick—ah—pops free, hanging heavy but hard enough that it's standing out from his hips. Cloud curls his left hand around it—the leather strange and battered-soft—hefts him, fingers barely meeting his thumb—and frowns, and lifts up higher on his knees, and then dips and—presses his lips to the side, over the vein, dry, the heat just—

"Yeah," Barret says, thoughtless, and Cloud glances up at him hot-faced and then closes his eyes, licks instead, his lips dragging stutter-soft up the side of Barret's dick. "Cloud. You done this?"

He holds there with his lips just under the head, bangs hiding his face. Barret fits his hand around the back of Cloud's neck, something twisting so hard and vicious in his gut it almost hurts except that his nuts surge like he could shoot right now, no warning. He slides his thumb up over the soft hollow spot at the top of his spine, feeling the soft puffs of Cloud's breath over the head of his cock—quick, warm. "Wet your mouth," he says, quiet. Tiny space between their skin—he hears the slick noises, Cloud sucking his lower lip—and Barret closes his eyes tight but then opens them again, because hell if he's gonna miss this. "Gotta relax your jaw. Don't try to fit the whole thing. You suffocate, there'll be hell to pay."

"You'd bring me back," Cloud says, absent-minded, and Barret uses the grip at the back of his neck to pull him away—Cloud blinking up at him, startled—but he has to curl down and kiss the kid for that one, knocking his mouth open and really licking inside, pushing his jaw wide, feeling him—wet, yeah, slick and warm and good, and then he stands up again and brushes his thumb over Cloud's smooth cheek and watches him sway softly under that tenderness—what in the hell, every minute's like meeting a new merc—before Cloud licks his lower lip, and bolsters Barret's dick high, and bends to fit his mouth around the head.

Wet shock. Slick, hot—god, there are times Barret prefers this to pussy, of whatever gender. He's too big and most never offer, much less try. Cloud's tongue slicks smooth and strong under the head and Barret grips his hair, presses his hips hard back against the door not to fuck in and maybe actually cause an injury. Little grunt and Cloud pushes down another inch, pulls back, coughs. "Good," Barret says, like a dumbass. "That's good, baby."

"Don't call me that," Cloud says, but he must not mind too much because he licks a sloppy kiss there at the tip and tries again, sliding the tight ring of his lips down and down, the inside of his mouth—he sucks and it's the silk inside his cheeks and his tongue sliding and a hint, ow, of teeth, but with how hard he's trying even that's a kind of harsh hot thing that's swirling tensely at the pit of Barret's belly. Cloud switches hands, gripping with the bare right instead and sliding his left down to hold Barret's nuts, and he laps right at the slit, pressing hard, and Barret—damn, he's trying but he's mortal, isn't he?—fucks his hips forward, chasing it. Knocks into Cloud's throat, makes him yank back, coughing—and Barret does feel like a piece of shit, says, "Damn—sorry, sorry—" but Cloud, being a crazy-ass, says, "Shut up," and kneels up gripping Barret's hips and forces his mouth down. The angle's all off and he hasn't done this or at least hasn't done this with a cock as big as Barret's and he only gets maybe halfway down, but that's insane-making enough, Barret's cockhead threatening the pit of his throat and feeling that tight spasm, his hips pushing forward because he can't not under that demand, closed up in all that heaven. He's so turned around he tries for a second to grab with his right hand, forgetting somehow that it's been gone for four years, and ends up leaving his gun-arm laid heavily over Cloud's back, clanking against his iron pauldron. It's a mind-bending handful of seconds buried about as deep as anyone's managed in years before he remembers he's not supposed to kill the kid and he pulls Cloud away by the hair, his dick emerging into the horrible cold air slick and furious, calling him a fucking dumbass for not leaving it right where it belonged.

Cloud coughs once, slurps spit and air. Barret tips his head back and there are—fuck—tears in his eyes, his face red, his eyes furiously blue. Looking up like it's a challenge and like he's got not a thought in his head, all at the same time. Barret keeps his head still and pushes forward, his dick standing straight out from his hips, lets the cockhead kiss Cloud's mouth. Lets him lick at it, soft-pink and wanting. Pushes past, sliding the sticky-wet along Cloud's bizarrely soft skin, watching the fat dark of it smear along the pale cheek and past, dipping under his ear, brushing the soft ends of his hair until Cloud's lips are pressed to Barret's skin, Barret's nuts against his chin. Barret slides his own fingers against the underside of his dick, brushing Cloud's jaw. Cloud tips his head forward, forehead against Barret's belly. Kisses, careful, at his sack. God, if it were possible. If there were a dozen nights where Barret could hold his head just so and coax him and open his throat, feed in—all the way, past the constriction, in—

He can't wait. He spits in his palm and wraps his fist around his dick, and from lack of options—even crazed-headed as he is he's careful, careful, with the gun, nudging Cloud back with the muzzle against his collarbone—Cloud's eyes opening wide, darker, his jaw dropping—so Barret can feed the head in—just the head, jerking himself, Cloud watching and gripping Barret's hips and then his nuts and then just holding there, cupping Barret's sack and slurping and suckling and licking soft and sweet at the cockhead, this hot urgency in him, wanting it bad enough that he'd choke if Barret let him. Fuck, Barret could choke him. He wrings at his dick, that coil turning in and in and in on itself, tighter and hotter and clawing its way out of his nuts, and he should warn Cloud, should pull him back, should say at least—should say—except it's one of those things he knows, down somewhere deep past every other thing, that no, that this is going to be—that he will—

He bites his lip hard so he doesn't yell out. His hips jerk, once. He follows the pumping release, fisting up and up and up, drives—in—just barely, Cloud gripping his hips and then wrapping his hands over Barret's hand, holding it, letting him pump inside. Cloud's mouth opens and he gasps wetly and Barret watches the white shine on his lip and wrings his dick viciously to pull out another gob of it and then chases that right into Cloud's mouth, forces it back inside when he seems like he might lose it over his chin, and Cloud holds the back of his hand and closes his lips over Barret's thumb and sucks it clean, blurry-eyed, good. Fuck, he's good.

Barret stares at that, for a few seconds. Maybe for eternity. This insane fucker, acting like Barret's giving up the lifestream itself. His tongue pushing hard along the ridge of Barret's thumbnail. How he swallows, and gasps weird around Barret's wet thumb, and then swallows again. Then Barret's brain logs back in, or at least halfway, because he rips his hand away and grips Cloud by the bicep and hauls him bodily to his feet—fucks his tongue into Cloud's mouth for a stolen second to taste himself—bitter, god that's bitter, salt and bleach and Cloud's tongue—and then turns them around, slams Cloud back against the door and goes to his own knees, less gracefully but no less happy to do it.

"What," Cloud says, raw-voiced—god, god, because Barret fucked him there—and Barret says, "You gotta help, baby, can't do this one-handed," and Cloud stares down at him before he fumbles at his waist—rucking up the wide back-belt, peeling open his uniform, and there's—sweet, standard issue Shinra grunt white boxer-briefs with his little dick standing up so hard in them, pushing forward the cotton desperate enough that there's a damp spot at the tip, pink skin shining through the wet. Even kneeling Barret's too tall for this, though—he fumblingly helps Cloud push the trousers and briefs down to his mid-thigh and then picks up one leg, hauls Cloud's knee over his left shoulder to lift him higher—one boot thudding against his back, the other scrambling to brace on the stone floor—and it's awkward, yeah, but at that moment the bed feels a mile away and anyway he can just—"Oh!" Cloud says, as brainless as he's ever been. Barret slurps down, down, to the base—easy—while since he's had the pleasure but it ain't the kind of thing you forget. "What—Barret—"

Barret pulls off, kisses the inches of bare white thigh by his cheek. "Gotta stay quiet, you don't want the whole village coming to see," he says, and when he glances up Cloud's covered his mouth with his gloved hand, staring wide-eyed like Barret's something he never expected to see. Barret'd laugh at how fussed he is—wet-eyed and pink-faced and fluffy-haired as a chick—but it's more fun to grip his tight little ass with his good hand and push him forward into Barret's mouth. Stiff pole of it, leaking all over the place, salt and clean skin and again that strange metal flavor, a tang, somehow all off and weird and addictive all at once. Good mouthful, his nuts a sweet smooth package pulled up so tight to the base he seems ready to shoot, with thirty seconds' worth of decent attention. Barret wants to do him better than that, though, to give back even half of all that good—"Suck," he says, tapping two fingers against the metal back of Cloud's glove. A blink, confusedly hazy. "C'mon, now. My mouth's busy."

Slurped right in, after that. He ducks back down and laps at the smooth sack—truly, he'll never be over how the kid seems to be entirely hairless from the nose down—and kisses Cloud's belly and the knobby little turn of his pelvis where he's too skinny and bites real careful just under his navel, makes Cloud's cock jerk like it's on a damn lead up against the underside of his chin. His fingers are getting what he'd bet would be the gold-star VIP treatment at the Honeybee, Cloud sucking as eagerly as he did dick, and goddamn, if Barret were younger they'd have a real issue on their hands. Even so his nuts are interested, wanting another try.

"Good," he mumbles against Cloud's belly. Another jerk—his dick's pearling clear, oozing. Barret pulls his fingers out of Cloud's mouth and gets a stuttery little gasp, and then a choked noise when he applies them to the red dripping head, smears all the wet around. "Cover your mouth," he says, and Cloud doesn't quite obey but slips his own fingers inside, biting, and that works, too—well enough that when Barret slips his hand around and presses against his asshole the only sound is a chest-deep grunt, not something that'll get shouted to the village and the whole jungle, besides.

Cloud ain't a princess and he's so desperate he don't need coaxing; Barret rubs the wet around, feels him tight, flexing, and doesn't ask before he pushes his middle finger in, quick and all-at-once to the knuckle. Cloud jerks and Barret slurps his dick back in, sucks in little pulses to match his finger fucking in, and Cloud's naked hand fumbles to Barret's shoulder, grips his vest so tight Barret hears a stitch pop. Insanely hot inside. Maybe hotter than other people—those mako treatments, again?—and the ring of muscle clamping hard—and easy, damn, so easy, Barret scrubbing his finger along that front wall where all the good stuff happens and Cloud's breath going strange and high and whiny around his fingers, his thigh flexing over Barret's shoulder and his hips not knowing whether to push back or crush forward. Barret makes it easy for him, encourages the thrust, letting him rock between Barret's hand and his mouth. It feels nice, anyway, right, his lips tight, letting Cloud rock against Barret's tongue pushed flat and hard up against the base, his taste leaking all over 'til Barret's sure he'll only taste that salt-and-metal for days after. He can feel Cloud quickening, though, his tiny noises going deeper, his hips getting desperate, and he crushes his finger in hard and pulls Cloud all the way up against his face, his beard grinding against that smooth sweating skin, his nose crushed in against his belly, sucking, demanding, and—yeah, Cloud's breath stops and his whole body seizes and his bootheel bruises Barret's back and he—shoots, right up into the back of Barret's throat, quick jets that Barret swallows down right away before he pulls back, slurps soft at the head, gets those last few drops. Slippery as mercury.

Cloud's head is tipped back against the door. Fingers still in his mouth, his chest heaving. Barret kisses his cockhead, all flushed and wetly red, and his belly, and then, watching carefully, he tugs his finger out of Cloud's body and then presses back in with two. Thick—he knows, his two fingers are thicker than a lot of men's dicks—but Cloud swallows them up without a whine or a flinch, his body clamping tight but just—taking it. He missed his calling, Barret thinks, and then feels bad for thinking it but—not that bad, really.

"You're so good, baby," he says, meaning it about as sincerely as he's meant anything, and Cloud's eyes open up above and his head drops down, his chin against his chest, meeting Barret's eyes. Not protesting at all. Tilting his hips when Barret grinds his two fingers thick into that spot, his pupils huge and his lips open and everything about him seeming to say—go ahead. Go ahead, make me.

If only. Barret kisses Cloud's belly again, right at the root of his softening dick, and pulls out his fingers and then stands up, bracing against the door to do it. His knees crack, gun-shot loud. Cloud blinks at him, looking up of a sudden with Barret so close, and then gets one of those tiny, goofy smiles.

"Don't you say a thing," Barret says.

"Hm," Cloud says. He looks to the side, where one of the high windows is pouring in that syrupy late afternoon light. "Maybe we can get you a potion, later."

"Man, what'd I say," Barret says, and Cloud grins and then turns back and goes on his toes and kisses him, quick. Just this brief unselfconscious peck, not asking for another thing. He drops back to his heels and he's not smiling anymore but his eyes are soft, and Barret chucks him under the chin, gentle. Dumbass, crazy kid.

He zips up. Cloud gets his uniform back together. In less than a minute, other than how Barret's mouth tastes like cock and metal, looking around the bedroom, no one'd suspect a thing.

Cloud pulls his discarded glove back on, clicks his bracer back together. Twists his wrist back and forth to check the fit. Says, looking down, "You good?"

Barret takes a deep breath. He feels—he doesn't know. It's still this shitty day but it's not worse. His bones feel looser in their sockets and his brain feels somewhat clear and he doesn't—regret at least one thing that happened today. "I'm good," he says. Not exactly true but maybe there's not anything truer.

A steady look, sidelong across Cloud's shoulder. "Good," he says. A little soft. The tip of his tongue touches his lower lip and he swipes one gloved thumb across his mouth, like he's trying not to think about it. If he keeps doing that it's gonna be hell on Barret's composure. But then he settles his shoulders, and picks up that big-ass sword and lets it clank heavily into its place. Looks more like the badass merc he's meant to be. "I'm going to check on the others. If nothing's going on maybe we can rest here, tonight, go on to the reactor in the morning."

"Sounds good to me," Barret says. He opens the door—no one waiting in awkward silence in the rest of the house, thank the planet—and follows Cloud to the entry. Watches Cloud reach for the knob and then grabs his arm. "You—" Cloud lets himself be held still, looking over his shoulder. Barret clears his throat. "You meant it, huh. 'Bout having my back."

Cloud looks at him entirely clear-eyed. No weird tenseness or like he's thinking of ten other things or brooding on whatever dark-ass secrets he keeps locked tight. Just this kid—man, Barret amends—standing there with him. For a minute, steady as a mountain. He nods, once.

Barret swallows. "Hope you know it goes both ways."

A slow breath. "I'm counting on it," Cloud says. Means it, too.

Barret nods back, something settling low at the base of his spine. Something steel-forged, solid. He ain't got a lot of best friends left. He'll do what he can, for this one.

#cloud/barret #final fantasy vii #my writing #i'm doing this just for me and i know that #but goddamn. it feels so good. #also i wasn't gonna post this today bc it's w.w. #but i just saw the most INCREDIBLE fanart of this pairing #and it could almost be taken straight from this fic #so i just had to. i had to.

[zoeykallus]

Hello!! I have a angsty Suggestion! What if Jedi! Reader was caught being (sharing a kiss, mentioning said relationship…etc ) with their clone significant other by another Jedi member or an anonymous ratting them out? Maybe reviving a subtle punishment ? Suggestion: Maybe in one they managed to dodge the convictions but at a cost?

Aloha!

That in fact is an angsty idea. Well, the outcome would depend on who catches them, I guess... I picked some clones that came to mind in a scenario like this, hope that's okay:))

Oh dear, okay, let me try something ^^'

Hunter/Echo/Fives/Rex x Jedi!Reader HC's - Forbidden Love

Warnings: Angst/Hurt/Violence/Death/Fluff/Suggestive

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Summary: You are stationed on Kamino to help train the clones. At first, you are not really enthusiastic about it. But unexpectedly, you meet a clone who makes your head spin, and the feeling is mutual. You both know that what you feel for each other is forbidden, both by the Jedi Code and by the regulations of Republic law regarding clones. Yet you cannot let go of each other, leading to a situation that could endanger your careers and even the life of the clone.

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Hunter

He has his arms wrapped around you as you are involved in an intense, intimate kiss. You can't get enough of Hunter, even though guilt and fear of failure nestle somewhere in the back of your mind with each of your clandestine encounters. You're a Jedi, you should be above these things, but Hunter is so wonderful, passionate, strong, loving. He makes you weak, and you are only too happy to give in.

But your affection becomes your undoing when Jedi Master Shaak Ti catches you in this precarious situation. Hunter hastily lets go of you, and you quickly tug your robe back into place.

You hear the Jedi Master sigh.

"There will be repercussions," she says, sounding more sad than angry.

"Master please, I-"

With a simple wave of her hand, Shaak Ti interrupts you.

"You are a member of the Jedi Order, you know this kind of association with others is forbidden to us, and then with one of the clones. Do you have any idea what will happen to this clone if the Kaminoans find out?"

You shake your head silently.

Hunter knows, he turns pale next to you.

"I'm being decommissioned," he says quietly.

Shaak Ti sighs softly and says, "No, you won't. I'm not going to tell anyone about this. Not this time. I can only advise you to end this connection between you. If I catch you again, I'll have to pass it on, even to the Jedi Council."

You lower your gaze and say with a racing heart, almost breathlessly, "Thank you Master."

When you are alone again, you look at each other. The shock is still in your bones, you feel that you are shaking.

"What do you want to do now?" asks Hunter softly.

"I don't know," you say uncertainly, "but I don't want to part with you."

He smiles, "Then I guess we'll just have to be a lot more careful from now on."

Echo

You have found a quiet corner. Your arms are leaning around his shoulder, again and again you exchange soft kisses. Echo can't believe how happy he is, and so are you.

But you let go of each other, startled, when you hear someone clearing his throat to get your attention. As you turn around, your heart nearly stops. A Republican officer is standing there, looking directly at you. You don't know him by name, but you've seen him before.

Echo salutes hastily.

"Sir!"

The man crosses his arms behind his back and sighs.

"I have to say, I'm surprised to see a Jedi, of all people, cross that line with a clone."

An overwhelming sense of helplessness came over you.

"Well" he continued "I don't know what the Jedi do to their own kind, but I know what's in store for you, soldier".

"Sir?" said Echo uncertainly.

"Decomission."

Your heart gives an unpleasant leap.

"With all due respect," you say as calmly as you can "Are you really willing to condemn a capable soldier for falling in love like this?"

"Rules are rules," the officer says impassively.

You know what decommissioning means. Clones who broke rules were, depending on the offense, either redeployed, assigned to penalty work, or disposed of. Decommission meant disposal.

Echo next to you is eerily silent, he knows what he's in for, he's still in shock and can't believe what's happening right now.

Your gaze is silent over the surroundings, other than you and the officer, there was no one out here on the outside platform, no surveillance cameras. You're way too emotional, you know you're heading down a dark path right now, but you're not going to let this man take Echo away from you.

You reach out into the Force, grab the officer, smash him against the railing of the platform, knocking him unconscious, then you drop him over the railing into the depths and into the endless water below.

Your heart races. You have just deliberately killed this man. He was unconscious and would drown in the water. Echo rushes to the railing and looks down. The man is not to be seen, already disappeared under the surface of the water. Finally, he stares at you and his look is almost worse than the guilt you feel over this murder.

"What did you do?"

"I saved your life"

He shakes his head and says, "But not like that! We could have tried to run, to escape. Putting him out of action temporarily would have been enough!"

You realize with horror that he is right. You acted hastily, in panic. The thought of losing Echo had completely thrown you off balance. Maybe the Jedi rules weren't so wrong after all. A tear rolls down your cheek.

You swallow and look at him. Echo comes closer, his expression softening, he wipes the tear away.

"Mesh'la, I know you were panicked. But now take a breath, we need to focus, I will not leave you alone with this. We'll find a solution. Maybe running away is still a good idea."

Fives

Fives is a risk taker, he steals a kiss, a hug from you at every opportunity. You love that about him, but at the same time you have a bad feeling every time, because he is much too careless.

In fact, this risk-taking will be your undoing. You don't know who betrayed you, but you are called together to Shaak Ti's office. You are so nervous on the way there. You know something is wrong, something has gone wrong.

When you arrive at the office and Fives is already standing there, you see the worried look on his otherwise cheerful face. At the same moment, the door opens and Shaak Ti invites you in.

The Jedi Master paces in front of her own desk as she speaks, "I want to keep this as simple as possible. I have been presented with evidence that you both broke the rules, together. There is a reason why Jedi do not form romantic attachments, and why clone soldiers are forbidden to do so."

You swallow. You both remain silent, but your thoughts are so loud that you almost fear everyone could hear them.

"This relationship is hereby terminated," Shaak Ti said sternly, "Y/N, will turn themselves in to the Jedi Council and depart from Kamino later today, and very likely will not return here. Fives will continue to serve. We will handle this matter discreetly within the Jedi Order."

She sighs, finally stopping and looking at you, hands clasped behind her back.

"Fives will not be punished?" you ask cautiously, hopeful yet incredibly sad.

"No, he won't, because no one outside the Jedi Order will know. I see no reason for a Jedi's transgression to cause a very capable soldier to be mustered out."

Fives looks at you warily from the side, then back at Shaak Ti.

"This was not only Y/N's transgression, it was mine as well. Will they be punished severely?"

The Jedi Master says calmly, "That is not for me to decide, but for the Council to decide. I will go to Hangar 5B now, I expect you to follow me in five minutes at the latest, Y/N, I will personally escort you to the Council."

Once Shaak Ti has left the room, Fives says, "Okay, quick now, we need to find a shuttle and get out of here."

You shake your head.

"No Fives, I have to face the council and you are far too dutiful a soldier to turn your back on your brothers".

Fives looks at you pleadingly.

"But I don't want to be without you."

With a sigh, you lean your forehead against his and say softly, "My love will always be with you, at all times, no matter where you go"

"That's not enough, I want you by my side" he says in a brittle voice.

You kiss him long and heartfelt.

As your lips part, you say very softly,"Goodbye Fives, please take good care of yourself".

He looks after you, feeling helpless. This pain in his chest is brand new and very unpleasant. He whispers softly, "I love you…"

Rex

He is supposed to leave the planet soon, a new mission. You are hiding in one of the shuttles, the otherwise well-behaved Rex is making out wildly with you in the hold, his and your hands are everywhere at once, you are grabbing hungrily at each other.

You know you won't see him again for some time once he leaves the planet, all the more greedily you absorb his every touch.

"I wish you didn't have to go on this mission," you moan between wild kisses.

"So do I."

You don't have time for anything more than groping and kissing, but you wish it were different. But when you suddenly sense another presence near you, you pause, freeze.

"What's wrong, love?" he asks, kissing your face.

"We are not alone"

You hear someone clear their throat. Rex hastily lets go of you and jumps up, knocking his helmet off the crate next to him and it thumps loudly to the floor. You straighten up as well. Master Skywalker stands in the middle of the hold, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his look a mixture of reproachful and amused. You feel panic rising in you and can clearly sense that Rex feels the same way.

"Busy, Rex?"

"Uh, no, sir," the captain stammers a little beside himself.

Skywalker looks at you and sighs softly, "You two need to pay much closer attention."

Rex nods hastily, "Yes, sir. Will we."

"We're leaving in 20 minutes, Rex," Skywalker says, turning back around to leave the hold.

Puzzled, you look at Rex, "What was that?"

Rex laughs softly, "Well, I keep his secrets, he keeps mine."

"Oh," you say in surprise before Rex pulls you back close to him.

"Twenty minutes," he says thoughtfully "Can we make it?"

"There's only one way to find out," you say as you hastily begin to undress.

Rex chuckles, "That's my girl."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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#star wars headcanons #headcanon #clone headcanons #hunter #fives #rex #echo #clones #clonelove #x reader #hunter x reader #echo x reader #fives x reader #rex x reader #clone captain rex #captain rex #captain rex x you #captain rex x reader #bad batch hunter #clone trooper hunter #hunter tbb #arc trooper echo #clone trooper echo #tcw fives #arc trooper fives #star wars fives #fives x you #501st #shaak ti #anakin skywalker

[bloody-trio]

TW! BLOOD, DEATH THREATS, TALKS OF DEATH! DEATH!

The moon has set it, shining bright in the sky as the manor residents all slumber to prepare for another day of ruthless matches.

That's what the informant strived for, dragging his feet through the empty halls of the manor to make his way from his dear sisters room, he grunted. The corridor seemed so long to his sleep deprived eyes, fake glasses hanging from his shirt as he walked as slowly as possible to not make any sound.

That's when he heard something, a faint noise, something clicking and something sliding, weird, who's awake at this time? He knew of a few night owls but theyvwould stick to the library, the lounge room or maybe the kitchen, mayve even outside their rooms but here? No one should be here at this hour.

That's when he tought as a shadow loomed over him, only noticable because of the moonlight seeping from the open curtains as the only source of light, he turned around as he saw her, pale dead skin shining as those empty eyes glared at him with so much hatred he tensed up, heart almost stopping as Gabriel's mouth went agape at who was there.

What was a hunter doing here? Her of any of them? They never staid down for long, always coming back to haunt him. Ginger hair framed her figure, blood dripping from her missing arm and running down her missing leg, that same blue dress now stained with it.

"Mario Parker", Lisa spoke, a voice he once rememberd as soft and velvety now sour and raspy as she pronounced one of his many names, he just couldn't help but stare, he couldn't react and even if he could, what could he do?

Lisa Montag had alwaya been taller than him, even when alive but now? She stood a whole meter above him and he craned his neck up to meet her sunken eyes, gasping as she suddenly put her hand around his neck and holted him up into the air, now face to face with the one he killed.

"You bastard, look at what you've done to me." She spat, eyebrows furrowing in pure hate as she looked at him, gripping tighter.

"I trusted you, I trusted in you both! You stupid bitch! For what, why did you do it?! To get a bigger cut between you and your asshole sister? I WON THAT, IT WAS MINE! YOU DID SHIT, IT WAS ALL ME!" Laura now held him with her both "hands" the blood that formed her left one leaving a trail of blood running down his side, almost suffocating him even more.

"I—Lara'- Let me ex—" A squeeze to his neck "You knew to much—" More force came to him.

"And you decided killing me in cold blood was better than just stop being greedy and pay for silence? You knew I would accept, money is why I even let you into my life, Parker!" The hunter cried, anguish and despair in her voice.

"My hatred for you has bringed me back to life, you are lucky i'm not allowed to kill outside of this stupid games because if not i'd kill you here for everyone to see how stupif your limp body looks in the floor, you'd look pathetic just like you do now."

She spat, stopping the assault on his neck and dropping him to the floor beneath her, leaving the informants view black doted and gasping for air, before he could get back to breathing properly she stepped her pointed heel to his chest and pressed.

"I'll do it, don't you dare try and escape because I know you will, I know you better than anyone here. I'll follow you until you pay for what you did to me, for leaving me this" And with that, she dissapeared into what? He couldn't care less, he felt like he was about to pass out, and pass out he did, now laying bloodied on a hallway in this god-forsaken manor.

He did look pathetic.

#GEHEHHEHE #feel free to interact or not just if you wanna!!!!!! *bats eyelashes* #‼️bloody trio lore‼️ #³3⊡‿⊡³ “gabriel alvaréz || the informant #⑇ ◯ ⌒◯ victim 4 || the pageant queen #idv askblog #idv oc ask blog #identity v ask blog #identity v askblog #idv oc #🍊.talks!!!