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justpoliteconversations · 3 months

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Running Circles [Reader + ???!Link]

The Chain faces an abnormality, and the tired soul it was dumped on. Chaos ensues.

Just another self-serving throwaway for the pile. Can you guess which Link this is for?

Masterlist

TW: I'm not responsible for anything the tiny bastard does. Read at your own risk.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

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He was loose. Again.

In a moment of weakness you'd shut your eyes to rest and the little gremlin had slipped his harness and rolled his way out the room. A closed room, with one door, no windows and the key secured to your palm with leather straps.

With a tired groan you pushed yourself out of your bedroll, gathered the empty leash and harness around your wrist, took the key from its bounds and opened the door to...

A portal. Because of fucking course there'd be a portal out here in the middle of nowhere. Of course. That was just the story of your life these days.

You sighed, rubbed your sleep encrusted eyes with both palms and straightened your shoulders. You stood there for a few moments longer, stealing yourself for the chaos you'd surely find on the other side.

You just wanted five hours. That's all you ask. Five hours of uninterrupted rest. Hell, you'd be thankful for three.

No helping it though. The longer you waited the worse the situation would get. The man-boy-gremlin-(divine entity?) worked fast after all, and it'd be amidst for you to dally.

So begins another day. You entered the portal.

---

You were right. This was fucking insanity. There were lines of fire criss-crossing the battle-scarred land, ice pillars as far as the eye could see shining in the moonlight, broken weapons littering the ruined battlefield and whipping through the air on strong gales of wind. An honest to Goddess dire wolf was dashing though the chaos, fading in and out of the shadows with a sword in its maul.

Ah. But let's not forget the six(?), seven(?), no, 11 uncomfortably familiar looking men being rattled around like leaves in their plainclothes. Occasionally, they'd strike at the blur of unprecedented destruction running amok in their campsite when the opportunity presented itself.

And that familiar little blur had some sort of wand in his hand (you certainly hadn't given the little demon that), and was waving it around like a goddessdamned lunatic. In his wake, dust and embers and the glint of weaponry took flight in great glittering swarms, adding to the general mayhem of the situation.

Someone was screaming over the howling of the wind, but their voice was lost to the hurricane. A man fighting through the whirlwind of disheveled blue scarf face-planted into the ground with a startled cry, a small humanoid shape on his back before it was gone again in a swirl of movement.

A tall man with bright facial tattoos had jumped to the scarfed man's aid through the torrent of buffering wind, but not before the little agent of chaos had managed to snatch the scarfed one's sword off his back. Behind them, a man with heavy scarring was panting laboriously, drenched head to toe in stamina potion(?) and long hair coated in seed-like grains. One eye was sealed shut by some sort of glutenous substance, running down in great, blue blobs from his bangs.

The familiar cry of triumph drew your attention away from the trio, only to land on the spectacle that was four identical men being blasted across the clearing with a flick of the (magical?) stick. The sight of thier brightly colored tunics flashing over the (somehow still intact) fire pit drew a sigh from your lips.

Behind you, a boy in a lobster shirt whipped by with a half terrified half enthusiastic squeal, arms bound at his sides with his own belt and a deku leaf attached backwards at the buckle. A man in a white cape chased after, sweat pouring down his face and plastering twig laden hair to his forehead. His mouth was open in hard, labored pants, face flushed with the effort as he swat away any debris heading for the trapped boy swaying viciously in the gales before him.

At least the little bastard remembered your 'no-killing unless necessary' agreement. There was that, if nothing else.

The dire wolf was back (still carrying the damned sword), a shirtless, darker haired man mounted upon it with a red glowing sword strapped to his back in a leather harness. They were charging at the small figure latched on the tattooed man's back plates, while said man was struggling like a bucking stallion. The scarred one was trying to pluck the unruly little shit from his perch against the taller man's armor, aborting several strikes to avoid hitting the taller man by mistake.

The shirtless man astride the wolf bellowed in rage(?), confusion(?), delight(?) and dive tackled the unrepentant little leech, drawing his sword midair with a determined glint in his eyes. The wolf leaping right after, like a shadow at his heels.

The shithead dodged, of course. He always dodges. Though using the tall man he'd been harassing as a living meat shield was a rather ungentlemanly thing to do.

Wrong-footed, the shirtless man barreled into the scarred one with a painful thwack, sending them skitting across the field and unintentionally tripping up the caped man. The wolf followed shortly after, unable to stop, its bulk catching the tattooed one in the crossfire and slamming them both into the pile with wince-inducing force. The young, airborne one yelled down at them, but his voice was carried away with the wind that yanked him into the air with sudden vigor.

Ah. The little hell spawn was latched onto lobster boy's belt, the scarfed one's sword in hand, the wind stick between his teeth and a truly massive sword strapped to his back (where the hell had he got that from?) as they ascended up, up, up into the growing storm.

You finally noticed a pantless, screaming man clinging desperately to an off white glider far above the campsite, kept from simply blowing away by a long, dark rope made near invisible against the night sky. It was attached to a decent sized log, occasionally rolling when struck by oncoming debris and causing the man far above to curl ever tighter around the glider bar. The flash of his pale legs were the only indication of his movements so far into the darkness above.

The scarfed one had finally managed to right himself, and with a glance you could see the reason for his disorientation. The scarf wasn't just tangled around him, it had been half-hazardly tied around his face, neck and one unfortunate arm in several tight knots. He was further hindered by some form of red whip wrapped around his thigh, across his waist and into the loops of the scarf.

Okay. This had gone on long enough. With a great, near painful breath, you cupped you hands around your mouth and called. "LINK!"

High above the chaotic swirl of magic induced winds stopped and the familiar swoosh of misplaced air rang out in the sudden calm. Something falling (many, many things falling) caught your ear, and in the span of one breath to the next, he was before you. Him in all his beady eyed glory.

"HAA!" The irritating creature voiced at you, listlessly flat stare fixated on your tired eyes. You blinked, unimpressed. "HAAAA." He said louder, waiting expectantly for you to answer.

You sighed, tiredly, pulling your hand down your face once before taking another fortifying breath. You felt a tiny hand tug at your shirt, and when you looked back down he had tilted his head in question. He looked almost innocent, little ears perked up and curiously blank face almost cute in its simplicity.

The slow descent of once air bound hyrulians coming down to ground spoke otherwise, but it was whatever. He hadn't seriously maimed anyone, and that was an improvement. it was progress.

"Yeah. No one died, just like we agreed." You conceded, reaching out and ruffling his shaggy hair with a small, tired smile. A blush rose to his cheeks, a near smile of delight on his lips as he held your shirt with both hands. "You did a good job, buddy."

"Haaa!" He voiced with pride, pleased to have done a good job this time.

He turned, about to head off again, but you managed to grab him by the arm before he could escape. His previously happy smile dropped dramatically when he realized he'd been caught.

"Nope. I said you did a good job, but that doesn't mean you get to be off the leash." You said in reprimand, turning him this way and that to properly put his harness on as he half-heartedly struggled in your hold. He fought a little harder when you took the weapons from him, but he eventually relented when he saw your unhappy face.

Though that didn't stop him from frowning and stomping his foot in tantrum when you took the great sword from his back. That was it though, so you'd count that as a win in your books. He hadn't even threatened to bite you this time.

In the distance the dirtied, ruffled and clearly traumatized men were finally starting to pull themselves together. You paid them little mind though, instead plucking the pouting little hero from the ground and tucking him into your arms. He immediately hid his face in your shoulder, but didn't stop pouting. His little ears were pinned back angrily, arms crossed at the chest as he 'haaaa'd loudly in complaint.

You patted his back in comfort and he melted into it trustingly, burrowing himself into your hold with little huffs of equal parts annoyance and contentment. There was a commotion in the distance that finally drew your attention, ignoring the small man-boy-creature (divine agent of chaos and destruction?) as he began to fidget in your arms.

The tallest once looked panicked, the scarfed one (newly liberated from his bonds) just as much so. The pantless one was suddenly pointing at you, eyes wide and thin brows hiked high in shock as he begun to yell.

"That little demon's got it!"

Confusion settled over you, and then sudden, heart stalling understanding. You whipped your head down in panic, angry at yourself for not having checked his goddess-damned pockets.

You were met with the sight of a brightly lined, white-haired mask slipping onto the little hell spawn's smugly grinning face. His victorious little 'Haaa' lost to the sudden explosion of light and power flooding your senses.

Tense silence. When you regained your bearings, it was to the feeling of large, unyielding arms around your waist and braced under your thighs. Holding you securely to a broad chest and even broader shoulders.

A glowing white stare met your confused gaze when you finally opened your hazy eyes. Those unblinking, otherworldly eyes were set into a handsomely stoic face, complete with thin, down-turned lips and a straight nose. Ominously similar tattoos lined either side of the unknown man's face and crest down his forehead.

Someone was yelling in the background. Several someones.

"Hn." The unknown man hummed monotonously, still staring at you with those seemingly listless, blank eyes. So very familiar.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. Deeply.

'Fuck me. Not another one.'

---

Back to the shadows.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #not so mystery link

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silentsamlikesham · 5 months

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Sanji injured his hands and is struggling to get things chopped in the kitchen. Who better to help than the ships swordsman?

Wordcount: 2,349

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The wood creaks as the ship sways. The ropes of the hammock dig lightly into Sanji’s back as he stares at the lines in the wooden ceiling above him. It’s a daily discomfort, one he doesn’t even notice anymore when he’s tired. But now, he’s wide awake.

The boy’s room is always dark, no matter the time of day. It’s clear to Sanji though that it’s morning. His mind has woken him up as usual, pushing him to go get breakfast ready. For once, the routine is a bitter one.

He runs a hand over his face, wincing at the motion. He lifts his left hand up, framing it against the wood. He stares at the purple bruise across the back of his hand in disgust. It hurts to flex his fingers, to close his hand into a fist, to hold a fucking knife.

He brings his other hand up, glaring at the brace on his middle and ring fingers. His middle one had been dislocated. He can still see the sly grin on the pirate he’d been fighting, his cruel smirk as he realised Sanji’s weakness…his hands.

He’d caught the chef by surprise, smacking an iron bar into the side of Sanji’s head when he’d been distracted by a scream of pain from Nami. He’d crumpled to the ground, already placing his hands flat on the deck to push himself back to his feet, to kick the asshole into oblivion. The world had seemed to stop, the foot coming into his view in slow motion as the oaf had cracked his boot down hard, crushing Sanji’s hands in one stomp.

The pain itself was nothing, the guttural scream from Sanji had come from a place of pure panic as he thought his treasure had been crushed, destroyed. He could feel the dread in his chest, an immeasurable force that had winded him, throwing him into despair in the middle of the battlefield.

Sanji likes to think he would have gotten through it. That he would have beaten the guy despite his state. But he’ll never know, because seconds later Luffy had rammed into the guy at full gum gum rocket speed. He wasn’t sure if his captain had seen what had happened or if it was pure luck that he ended up colliding with the enemy.

Either way, Sanji was once again grateful for his captain. Even if watching the enemy pirate fly off the ship had been bitter-sweet, it was satisfying enough.

Chopper did his best when the fighting ended, examined Sanji’s hands with careful hooves. Worry had been building in Sanji’s throat like a bubbling poison, he could feel his breathes coming shallower and quicket until Chopper had looked up at him with a small smile.

“Nothings broken, Sanji! Although…they may hurt for a while…I’m sorry…”

Sanji ignores the pain of his hands as he pulls a cigarette out, lighting it in his hammock and watching the smoke swirl upwards. He lets himself get a couple of draws in before he forces his legs over the edge of the hammock and jumps softly to the ground.

He’s just going to have to suck it up and use the bruised hand as well as he can to chop. It’s not like he can make it worse, it’s just going to hurt. Although it had been enough last night, trying to prep for dinner. His shaky hand had left his vegetables uneven and ugly in his eyes and it had taken him far too long to get ready. Still, he’ll make do, he must. He has a hungry crew to feed after all.

He gets changed quickly, not bothering to throw a blazer on after going through the agony of buttoning up his shirt. Putting on his shoes is probably the worst of it though, and as soon as he’s in the hallway he lets himself angrily stomp to the kitchen.

He pulls the door to the galley open, surprised that someone has already lit the lanterns in there, as the sun still hasn’t risen this early in the morning.

He freezes in the doorway, blinking stupidly at the silhouette of the person standing against a countertop at the other side of the room. No one is ever up before him,

“Morning, cook.”

Zoro looks like he’s been napping where he stands. His eyes blinking blearily open, trying to focus on the blonde as Sanji shuts the door and marches towards him.

“What the hell are you doing here, Mosshead? I swear if you’ve touched anything in the pantry-”

Sanji is already rolling up his cuffs as he makes his way to stand in front of the green-haired idiot. He tries to hide his flinch as his hands slip on his sleeves, a simple motion so frustratingly difficult.

“Relax, Curley.” Zoro doesn’t seem phased by the aggression. He just yawns in Sanji’s face, undisturbed by the way Sanji is swinging his hip, rearing up a kick.

“I thought you might need someone helping you with sousing or whatever…” The swordsman looks away from Sanji as he speaks.

If Sanji had been shocked at the doorway, he’s floored now. He’s pretty sure his brain has short-circuited somewhere, the lightning flashes in his brain overflowing with static as he tries to piece together what the blush on the other’s face means.

“Sousing? Do you mean a fucking sous chef, you moron?”

His words are harsh, but there’s no bite to them. Sanji is struggling to close his mouth, just gawking at Zoro as the he begins to fidget under Sanji’s gaze.

“Whatever.” Zoro shrugs, like it’s not a big deal, like anyone can be a sous chef.

Sanji tsks, taking out another cigarette to calm his nerves as the scene become unbearably uncomfortable. It’s so out of character for Zoro, it’s freaking Sanji out.

“A sous chef is a serious role in a kitchen, Mossy. You wouldn’t even keep up as a porter.”

Sanji can practically see the red tick on the back of Zoro’s head as he whips his eyes back to Sanji’s, glaring at him again. At least that’s more normal for them.

“I’m not here to wash dishes.” He hisses, surprising Sanji. Surprised he knew what a porter did in a kitchen.

“What do you want then? I need to start on breakfast, and I’m not in a mood to play make believe with whatever weird fantasy of being a chef is brewing in that moss brain of yours, Marimo.”

“Being a chef? Shut up.” Zoro yells, his cheek bright red at the comment. “As if, why would I need to know how to cook when you’re more than willing to do it? I just noticed how shitty you were at cutting stuff for dinner last night, and figured you needed some help.”

Ah. So that’s what this was about. What an asshole! Underestimating Sanji…

“As if you’d know what well cut vegetables were like if they slapped you in the face and decorated your swords.” Sanji barks, his leg flying up and down towards Zoro’s shoulder, intent on dislocating it.

Zoro’s eyes widen for a brief second before he brings a hand up to catch Sanji’s ankle, his grip like iron as he holds Sanji’s leg in place. The blonde hops briefly on his other leg, getting comfortable in his stance as he tries to push his leg past the hold.

“As if I’d ever need your help.” Sanji spits, shame burning in his gut at the thought. He wasn’t helpless, he could do this. He doesn’t need Zoro’s pity.

“I don’t need to say shit, Ero-cook. You know I’m right.” Zoro grins, knowing the best way to get through to the idiot cook is to have him accept what Zoro is saying, rather than make him admit Zoro is right.

He pulls at Sanji’s ankle, forcing the other to follow the tug until he’s leaning closer to Zoro, forced to look him dead in the eye. Their bodies are pulled against one another, Zoro relaxed while Sanji is all tense lines. His body straining to remain upright in this position, despite his flexibility, it’s not the easiest.

“Let go.” He hisses, wondering if he can manage to swing the other leg up in this position, but worried Zoro would drop him and any support he has the second his grounded leg lifts.

“Let me cut.” Zoro counters, looking the cook up and down in his compromising position, enjoying the flush of anger that colours Sanji’s face at the move.

Sanji weighs up his options. He can either tussle with the idiot for the next few minutes, he’d obviously win, but it would take time. Sanji isn’t really willing to have breakfast served late to their captain, not with how restless the captain has been while they’ve been searching for a new island.

On the other hand, the thought of letting anyone, of letting Zoro touch his knifes…it’s not a pleasant feeling. A chef’s knives are sacred to them. He spends hours with them, relying on them, looking after them. Sanji’s eyes flick to Zoro’s katanas…well, maybe if someone was to understand...

“Fine.” Sanji sighs, the fight leaving him as he feels himself getting antsy to have everything ready in time.

Zoro tilts his head, dropping the other’s leg as promised. He didn’t think the chef was going to give in this easily. Then again, Zoro knew from the start Sanji did need the help. The idiot is just being prideful about it.

“But you’re going to do exactly as I say, Marimo. No backtalk when it comes to kitchen work.” Sanji points a finger at him, ignoring the pain as he locks eyes with Zoro with the sharpest look he can muster.

“Whatever.” Zoro agrees, not wanting to start another fight.

Sanji turns, ignoring the response as he heats a pan on the stove, pouring a generous amount of oil onto it before he takes out a chopping board, grabbing onions and bell peppers from the pantry and leaving them beside the wooden block.

He can feel Zoro standing behind him like a shadow, watching his movements with interest as Sanji hovers a hand over his block of knives. He swallows back a nervous lump as he picks one up.

“Dice them, you know even little squares.” He passes Zoro the knife, holding the handle out to him.

Zoro rolls his eyes, trying to hold back his exasperation as he mutters a quiet “I know what diced means.”

Sanji chooses to ignore him as he goes to find some eggs. Not trusting himself to watch Zoro without grabbing the knife out of the oaf’s hand and doing it himself. He tries not to flinch as a rhythmic beating fills the kitchen, the sounds of the knife hitting steadily off the wood as Zoro gets to work.

Sanji focuses on breaking and whisking the eggs. The task isn’t easy on his hands either, but it doesn’t require the same amount of precision and force as chopping does. When the eggs look well whisked and fluffy, he turns to see Zoro is leaning against the counter.

The onions and peppers lay waiting in a bowl that Sanji had left beside the chopping board. They’re well cut, the pieces almost in perfect uniform to one another. It’s both a relief and extremely annoying that the swordsman is actually good at it.

“Not bad.” Sanji comments as he takes the bowl and pours the contents into the pan, the kitchen filling with the sound of sizzling oil. Sanji focuses on spicing things as Zoro quietly washes the knife and places it back in the block.

There’s a weird warmth in Sanji’s chest from the gesture. He ignores it by barking at Zoro.

“You can set the table if you’re just going to stand around.”

He misses the eye roll he receives in response.

By the time Sanji has the eggs scrambled, Zoro has set the table and placed the last of their bread onto the table, surrounded by butter and the different jams that Sanji liked to lay out.

It’s not long before the rest of the crew wake up, strolling into the kitchen in various moods and energy levels as they all get through the morning at their own pace. Sanji smiles as he serves coffee to the ladies and dishes out breakfast to everyone.

Luffy comes bounding in demanding the bacon that Sanji had put on last, knowing it was best hot and ready to go for the nutcase.

He barely spares a glance at Zoro throughout the meal. It’s only as everyone disappears from the kitchen table, plates piling up and ready to clean, that Sanji notices it’s Zoro carrying them over to the sink for him.

It’s Zoro that stands at his side again with a towel, taking the cleaned plates and drying them before stacking them to be put away.

As Sanji carefully dries his hands, gently patting around the bruise and doing his best not to jostle his brace, he finally looks at the swordsman who has just shoved the dishes back into their cabinet.

“Oi.”

Zoro turns to look at him, his eye twitching uncertainly like he’s waiting for Sanji to yell at him.

“Thank, Marimo.”

There’s a pause. An unusual silence, a tension clenching the air between them. A weight to a simple word that neither of them really know how to hold.

“Don’t mention it, dart-brows.” Zoro shrugs, his hand grabbing his hilts on reflex before he leaves the room.

Sanji lets out a held breath as the door closes, slumping against the sink as he’s left alone.

Is he going to have to go through this again at lunch?

His hearth thumps insistently against his chest, almost as wild as when he gushes over the ladies on the ship.

He did not need this; he thinks bitterly as he stares at his hands.

He has enough to worry about now than thinking about Zoro’s hands clasping his knife-

Nope.

No, he’s not going there.

He needs a fucking cigarette.

#one piece zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #zosan #one piece #zoro x sanji #zosan fanfic #fanfic #vinsmoke sanji #zoro #hurt sanji #caring zoro #sanji hurt his hands #soft boys

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dailydragon08 · 4 months

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Homecoming

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader Summary: Although you're skilled in the ways of the Force and use that to your advantage in your medbay job, you always thought Luke Skywalker would be the one rescuing you, not the other way around. Warnings: reader gets shot with a blaster in the arm and leg, but injuries are not described in detail. Canon-typical violence. Reader has been separated from their family at age 10, but kept what exactly happened to them vague for self insert purposes. A/N: "Remnants" is a series of one shots in no particular order about the budding relationship between you and Luke as he trains you in the ways of the Force. Remnants!Reader and Luke's first meeting. This is my first fic in a while and my first time writing action, so please bear with me! Hoping to get back into writing more frequently now. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated and my Remnants masterlist can be found linked in my pinned post on my blog! Enjoy!

“Careful,” you said as you helped yet another rebel soldier onto the transport heading back to Home One, where you were typically stationed in medbay. But today, someone needed to be on the ground to give first aid to any critically wounded soldiers so they could survive the trip back to base—and that someone had been you. Not out of any obligation. But something felt like it had been pulling you to the dusty plains on-planet, and you were never one to refuse a call from the Force.

A nearby explosion made you jump as the soldier ducked into the small ship. The pilot leaned out the door to shout over the racket, “You coming back as well?”

“I—” There it was again: the pull from this morning. The world stilled as you instinctively let yourself sink further into the Force. Time slowed and you were aware of all the souls on the battlefield, felt their fear, helplessness, rage, as particles of dirt and dust flew everywhere. They seemed to whiz by in slow motion so that you could see every facet of the tiny pieces of debris and in the middle of all the chaos, one particularly powerful presence about to knock on death’s door. They were close and felt different from the others—easier to grasp and hold onto. You’d felt this presence at rebel functions and on Home One before, and just like every time before, it somehow reached back until you were intertwined inexplicably before everything suddenly snapped back.

“Um, hello?” the pilot waved his hand in front of your face. “You coming back or not?”

You blinked. “Sorry. No, I’m staying here.”

“This may be the last transport for a while.”

You felt the presence reach out to you again like a soft hand smoothing over your shoulder and shook your head. “No, I’m staying.”

Another boom and several screams echoed in the distance as he shrugged. “Your funeral.”

You barely waited for the ship’s door to close before tightening the strap of your medical bag and sprinting towards the source of the connection, trying to keep it as steady as possible through the Force. Of course, the one day you left your grandfather’s old lightsaber in your quarters was the day you might need it. Typically, it came with you everywhere, but it was left behind in your rush to play field doctor. Your parents had taught you what they knew of the Force before you’d been separated from them at age 10 and your savior and adoptive father, an old clone that had somehow escaped conversion during the Purge and joined the rebellion named Rex, took over your combat training.

You weaved between the alleyways of abandoned stone houses in pursuit of your goal, hiding behind fallen objects and receiving cover from your comrades as Stormtroopers continued their assault. Although the emperor and Darth Vader were dead and the empire was fractured, small remnants remained here and there, trying to reorganize and reclaim power through their moffs’ and superior officers’ orders.

A blaster shot grazed past your shoulder enough to tear through your jacket. You hissed through your teeth, but otherwise ignored it. The feeling of the presence reaching out through the Force, like a soft hand on your shoulder, came again. The touch was just as gentle, but came with a new sense of urgency, and you quickened your pace as the sounds of battle continued to ring around you.

The presence grew in strength as you reached the end of the maze the neighborhood created. Just as you began to slow your pace so as not to run straight into a crossfire, a Stormtrooper jumped out from behind a nearby dumpster and pulled you down with him. You both writhed on the ground as he wrapped an arm around your neck and his legs around yours, boxing you in. You began rocking your body violently in an attempt to free yourself, managing to free an arm in just enough time to move his blaster away from your neck. He fired just as you moved, getting you at close range right in the calf. You cried out in pain, taking a deep breath before bringing your head forward, then whipping it back as hard as you could.

You winced as the trooper cried out, but didn’t indulge the pounding in your head as his arms fell to his sides. You stood, grabbing his blaster out of his hand and bringing the butt down hard on his helmet. He grunted before going limp. You nudged his foot with yours and when he didn’t move, held tight to the blaster and crouched by the opening to the plain ahead.

Several crashed ships, dumpsters, and debris were scattered over the dirt with a large circle of Stormtroopers and Darktroopers nearby. The presence felt so close that you knew your quarry was in trouble in the middle of it. But this was away from the main fight, and the only other rebels that had been here before were all either unconscious or dead on the ground.

A mechanical beeping nearby caught your attention and you looked just in time to see a Darktrooper round a fallen x-wing. You barely scrambled inside the lid of an overturned dumpster before it began shooting at you. You heard it thunk closer and held your blaster close to your chest. Another softer, more timid set of beeps and whistles sounded just in front of you. You jumped, pointing your blaster toward the sound only to find a little blue astromech wobbling on its legs in front of you.

You breathed a sigh of relief as the Darktrooper continued to descend. You could feel the shots of its blaster shaking the dumpster and leaving searing holes you did your best to avoid. Turning to the astromech, you whispered, “You go around back and electrocute him while I distract him?”

The droid chirped before whizzing out of the dumpster, hugging the side closely. The Darktrooper was close enough now that you could hear the whirring of its ankle joints. You took a deep breath through your nose and blew it slowly out your mouth before squaring your shoulders and whipping around the corner, blaster at the ready.

The imperial droid was barely inches from you as you raised your blaster toward its head. Before it could adjust its aim to shoot you, blue electricity engulfed its frame and it twitched and shook. You scampered back several steps as its head spun in circles, watching it fall to the ground with a solid thud to reveal the astromech. It chirped and beeped cheerfully before wiggling back and forth.

You gave it a small smile and pat on the head. “Good work, buddy—whoa, hey.” A small claw shot out of the droid’s side and grabbed onto your jacket, slowly pulling you towards the x-wing and closer to the circle of imperials.

“Is your master in that circle?”

The droid wiggled his body in what could’ve been a nod, but a Stormtrooper turned to face you before you could reach cover. “Hey! Over there!”

You cursed before diving behind the x-wing as the droid squealed in terror and sped after you. The ship provided decent cover for the moment as blaster shots rained down on you (and some even went far past you; typical Stormtroopers, but you weren’t complaining).

“How are we gonna get out of this one?” you grumbled before peering around the x-wing.

You groaned and pulled back as something small caught the sun's light and blinded you. You risked another look and saw a small, silver cylinder only a few feet away from you in the dirt: a lightsaber. You frowned. It certainly wasn’t yours. And the only other person you knew of in the rebellion who owned a lightsaber was—

Oh. Oh. Now you definitely had to save him.

You turned to the droid beside you. “So that makes you R2?”

The astromech whirred excitedly and if the situation wasn’t so dire, you would’ve laughed at how it seemed proud and excited to be recognized.

You glanced at the lightsaber on the ground again and saw half of the imperials coming towards you while the other half stayed closely huddled around a figure clad in black. Two Darktroopers kept a firm grip on his arms, twisting them behind his back before forcing him to his knees. You made eye contact and felt him reach for you again through the Force, this time with an urgent, unspoken plea to run while you still could.

Closing your eyes, you tuned out R2’s urgent whistles to sink into the calming nature of the Force. You could feel the man’s presence even more clearly now and felt his fear—not for himself, but for you. Not just surprise, but a sort of awe and relief rolled through him in waves at finding someone who he could not only reach for, but who could reach back. You sensed he’d lived his whole life as if he was invisible in the Force and could watch the goings on, but never join. It was like constantly waving at passersby and having all hope squashed of someone ever waving back—until now. He seemed so elated to find someone like him that you were sure it affected his ability to withhold these strong feelings from your connection. You hadn’t even been properly introduced, but he was already cherishing your connection—and fearing whether you would survive long enough to be introduced.

Focus. You honed in on the world around you and time again seemed to slow to a crawl. You locked all your concentration on the weapon in front of you, feeling the Dark and Stormtroopers’ feet move ever closer until they were only a few steps away from what might be your only saving grace. Grab the lightsaber! you thought you heard one shout.

You remembered the Jedi phrase your parents taught you. “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.” Taking one final deep breath, you let your hand leave the cover of the x-wing to reach towards Luke Skywalker’s weapon.

R2 let out a started beep as the lightsaber zipped into your hand and you ignited the green blade. You took a split second to admire the detail on the hilt before slinging the blaster’s strap over your arm and stepping out into the fray.

You easily batted the blaster fire away—just as you’d practiced for years with Rex and your grandfather’s lightsaber. Several of the shots successfully deflected into the troopers, sending them sprawling on the ground. R2 carefully zipped around the battlefield and incapacitated as many Darktroopers as possible, leaving you a clear shot to Luke.

You slung the blaster off your shoulder and threw it as hard as you could, using the Force to guide the weapon onward. Dust that had kicked up from the fight made it hard to see, but you could sense precisely where everything was through the Force and used it as your guide. You slingshot the gun into the heads of the Darktroopers who were holding Luke hard enough to make them stumble and let go. He took his opportunity and grabbed the gun from where it fell as you continued to deflect fire and cut through armor and mechanics alike.

Although you’d gotten plenty of Force training from your parents, which you’d continued via your grandfather’s journal after you’d been separated, and combat training from Rex, you’d never been in the thick of battle like this before. At least not fighting. You had shot and killed several Stormtroopers before, but always from a distance. Never like this—never close enough to hear their hiss of breath as they fell or the mechanical whirring of a Darktrooper malfunctioning. It was anxiety, relief, and guilt all at once, as well as anger toward the people who had made this conflict necessary in the first place.

Again, you felt a cooling, calming presence wash over you, reminding you that everything would be all right, and you reached back just as gently, even as you both saw to the enemy. The green saber in your hands slashed through the closest Darktrooper, cleaving it straight in two before a low, mechanical growl sounded behind you. You spun, unsure if you could raise your defense in time, but a sudden blaster shot clean through the head rendered it useless. You stepped out of the way as it crashed to the ground.

You urgently looked around, adrenaline pumping wildly, before realizing the only sound you could hear nearby was your own heavy breathing. All the troopers lay scattered on the ground around you with no more in sight who could pose a threat. You sheathed the saber’s blade, taking comfort in the soft whoosh it made, before closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing. In the sudden silence, a steady wind whistled across the plain. By force of habit, you reached out to check that Rex was safe and finally let yourself fully relax when you sensed that he was.

The familiar presence reached out to you again, this time from just in front of you. Although this battle wasn’t the first time you’d sensed it, you’d never had a chance to feel just how strong and solid it was. It was light like air, but somehow also steady and unwavering, with a twinge of darkness but a steadfast choice not to give into it. Even though you’d just now really met, it had the comforting sense of coming home to an old friend and it was hard not to already feel a level of affection for him because of it. You could feel his affection and curiosity flowing back to you in equal measure. It made you almost afraid to open your eyes in case this homecoming within the Force was all a dream and would melt away.

A warm, rough surface brushing against the back of your hand forced you to finally look. The hero of the rebellion stood in front of you, his fingers gently brushing the hand still holding his lightsaber. His eyes were even more blue than the sky above you, but somehow the icy color still held a warmth and concern unlike any you’d ever seen. He made himself so open and after all the stories about what he’d lost and how many imperials he killed, it was shocking in a way that made you want to protect him at all costs. His face, although worn and scarred, held so much depth and kindness and you wondered what kind of hell he’d gone through to come through war with so much love to give still—and you could sense exactly how much he still had in him through your bond, and how excited he was to maybe share some of that with the first Force-sensitive person his age. There was a weight to him, but it somehow felt settled, as if he’d accepted himself as he was and the heaviness as just another part of him. His signature held a bittersweet taste: half melancholy, half hope for a better future.

It didn’t help your gawking that he was strikingly handsome—strong jaw with a jacket and pants that fit him like a glove and showed off his toned physique. Not to mention the actual glove on his right hand and the fact that he’d made sure to touch you with the uncovered one for skin-to-skin contact. The wind brushed his brown hair over his forehead and you couldn’t help but notice how tan his skin was and how calloused his hands were. You thought you remembered whisperings of the rebellion’s Boy Wonder who blew up the Death Star starting out as a clueless moisture farmer from Tatooine, but got too lost in the planes of his face to focus.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his hand still gently brushing yours and pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, surprised to sense him having a similar struggle through the Force. “Here’s your lightsaber back.”

He took it from your hand, letting his fingers linger against yours for what felt like a deliberately long moment before reattaching it to his belt. “Thank you for the help.”

“You seemed like you could use a rescue.”

He smiled and you had to remind yourself to breathe at the sight. “Yes, I got a bit caught off guard with the sheer number of them.”

R2 suddenly whirred and rolled over to stand by his master’s side, beeping excitedly. You both chuckled at his antics as Luke put a comforting hand on his dome. “I’m Luke—”

“Skywalker,” you finished. “I know.”

You regretted saying anything as he gave a stilted nod, suddenly bashful and very interested in his shoes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s all right.” He met your eyes again and gave you a small smile. “You work in medbay, right? You’re Y/N?”

You tried your best to hide your elation that Luke Skywalker knew who you were, but he undoubtedly picked up on it through the Force. “Yeah, I was on field doctor duty today, but…felt you and that you needed help.”

“I felt you too…” he paused, seeming unsure, before continuing. “I think I’ve felt you several times throughout the war, actually, but could never put a finger on exactly what I was feeling. I guess I never realized another Force-sensitive would feel different to me than someone who isn’t—minus my masters, of course.” He hesitated again. “It…feels good to find someone else who knows the ways of the Force.”

Now it was your turn to inspect your shoes bashfully. “Yeah, it does for me, too.” As you felt the last of the adrenaline leave your body and your eyes landed on the blaster wound on your leg, pain suddenly came pounding to the surface, as did the graze on your shoulder. You weren’t sure how you’d managed to fight as well as you did with injuries, but adrenaline could be a funny thing. The burning, however, was not so funny.

“Are you hurt?” Luke asked, closing the distance between you and gently touching your intact shoulder. You could feel fear stab through to color his Force signature as he frowned, following your eyes to your leg and wincing.

“I’m all right—”

“Anywhere else?”

You sighed, somehow knowing you’d be unable to lie to him. “A shot grazed my arm, but I’m okay—”

“Here, um—” He paused as he looked around. “Where’s somewhere you can sit…”

R2 tittered as he dragged an overturned wooden crate over with his retractable claw.

“Thanks, buddy,” you said as you flopped down harder than you meant to, moving your medical bag to sit on the ground next to you. You opened the flap and began to dig, but Luke’s hands, which dwarfed your own, stopped you.

“Please, let me—unless you’d prefer to do it?”

His blue eyes were pleading as he stared up from where he’d crouched in front of you, leaving you unsure how anyone could say no to him. “Um, no, if you want to…” You gestured awkwardly to your bag. “Do you need me to talk you through it?”

He chuckled. “Oh no, I’ve had to do this for myself many times—I mean, you work in medbay though, so of course, if you’d prefer—”

“Um, no, you can go ahead.”

“You are the expert, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

You both stared awkwardly at each other for a moment before laughing and quickly looking elsewhere. As he dug through your supplies, you could see a slight pink tinting his cheeks, filing the image away deep in your mind. The fact that you, of all people, had made him blush felt like something to be proud of.

As he cleaned and bandaged your leg and arm (you didn’t think it warranted a bandage, but he insisted), you told each other of your upbringings, stories from your time in the rebellion, and even sat there for several minutes after the dressings were completed to talk about hobbies and music preferences before your wrist comm beeped.

“All right there, soldier?” Rex’s voice floated through the speakers.

“Yeah,” you answered back. “Minor injuries, but I’m fine. I’m with Commander Skywalker and R2-D2.”

“Skywalker?” Rex asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“Y-yeah?” You frowned at Luke, but he simply shrugged, looking just as confused.

Rex cleared his throat. “Ah, well, good. The final transport just landed for stragglers. Can you make it here, or need us to come pick you up?”

“I think I’m good to walk.”

Luke gave you a look and although you realized you were looking at your superior, you couldn’t help pulling a face, using your forefinger to pull the tip of your nose up to show him just what you thought of that. He snorted and seemed surprised by the sound that came out of his own mouth, turning his head to smother his laugh as Rex gave you the coordinates.

“We should be there in 10-15 minutes tops.”

“Copy that, kiddo. See you soon.”

R2 twittered next to you.

Luke chuckled. “He says you can ride him back to the ship if you want.”

You smiled, but shook your head. “It’s not too bad. I’ll be fine, but thanks, R2.”

Luke helped you stand, keeping his hands on your upper arms to steady you.

You swallowed nervously. “I know you technically are a commander, so sorry if any of that,” you gestured vaguely towards where you’d been sitting, “was, um, out of line or anything.”

Luke’s face fell and he shook his head, rubbing your arms gently. “No, no, please. We’re Jedi. We have to stick together. There’s no rank here.”

“Well, I mean, I’m not technically a Jedi.”

“I could teach you if you’d like. It seems like you have some to teach me as well.”

You smiled and nodded. “I’d like that.”

He sighed in relief, as if he thought you might refuse. “Promise you’ll lean on me if your leg gets to be too much on the way back?”

You nodded, hoping you didn’t appear too smitten as he stayed close and kept a hand on the small of your back the entire walk back to the ship.

#luke skywalker #star wars #luke skywalker x reader #star wars x reader #luke skywalker imagines #star wars imagines #star wars fanfiction #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker fluff #star wars fluff #luke skywalker angst #star wars angst #luke skywalker x fem!reader #luke skywalker x jedi!reader #star wars remnants #my writing

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tmntxthings · 8 months

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一∑ Ping! You’re Dead。・゜・

author’s note: this is @marwhoa ‘s fault for sending me this tiktok

warnings: major character death, description of wounds, blood, angst, grief, bad future, short oneshot, unedited

song inspired: “ Not Allowed by Kapa Boy ”

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Leonardo had no thoughts as he ran. He had no thoughts as he fought his way towards Casey Jr. His body moved without it needing any prompting. There was no time to waste on something like thinking.

A battlefield with the Kraang was never pretty. The ground was littered with bodies. Leo didn’t think about the allies he had to jump over. Something a turtle just gets used to. Losing people. Losing hands. Losing brothers. Losing battles. Losing the war.

Leonardo bit down, clenching his teeth together as he sidestepped a deformed kraang. It had too many bodies, all writhing and conforming into one monstrosity. Leo didn’t have time to deal with it. He had to get to Casey.

“Donnie take care of big ugly behind me and then meet at Casey’s ping pronto.” Leo spoke, voice hard. He didn’t have to pretend around Donnie. Leo was worried and sugarcoating his tone didn’t mean anything anymore. There was only so much you could hide behind a flashy smile. People knew they were losing the war. Donnie knew. So Leo didn’t bother with the niceties.

“Roger roger.” Was called out from his purple brother. The wrist tech brightening the signature color as the words came through before going back to the tracker that Leo had been following. Casey had sent out a distress signal.

Leo never liked letting Casey go off on the battlefield alone. But it was hard to juggle a multitude of other responsibilities, keep himself from being killed, and watching out for his little human. Especially when that little human made it harder by going off on his own and always guaranteeing that he could handle it.

Teenagers!

They think they can do anything! They think they’re invincible! Leo’s left shoulder ached as a reminder that was far from the truth. No one was safe. Maybe once upon a time, twenty-so years ago. But not anymore.

Leo pushed himself harder, breaking through a thick cloud of dust and finding himself further away from the battle. Why was Casey’s ping so far out? What was he doing over here?

Leo took one more glance at the screen before looking back up. Casey should be right over—

It was then that Leo clocked in on the crumpled form on the ground.

No.

No. Nononono.

A mad dash brought Leo closer and down he went, onto his knees. Dropping his weapon and pulling Casey’s body in close. Cradling him.

“Casey?! No no. C’mon Case, say something!”

“S-sensei!”

Leo hugged him tighter. He smelled blood. Pulling back only enough to really assess the injuries, Leo saw the incomprehensible. Long gashes down Casey’s middle. His little human was gasping, groaning, making noises of pain and suffering that antagonized Leo further. It put him in a useless position.

“That’s it buddy, keep talking. Tell me where it hurts.”

But Casey’s eyes only got bigger as he struggled to breathe. Leo frantically started holding down the wounds. But he was missing something. The way Casey could hardly breathe had Leo finally tearing away the black fabric that covered Casey’s neck. A staple in his little human’s get-up.

It had been covering Leo’s worst fears. A fatal wound to the neck. Blood gushing. Red stained Leo’s hand as he tried to stop the inevitable.

“You’re gonna be fine Casey. You hear me? Just fine! Donnie will be here any minute!”

Leo was babbling. Tears welling in his eyes and running down his face as Casey started convulsing completely. Then going still. Limp.

“No! Nononono!”

He heard Donnie land behind him. Coming out of the air with his battleshell. Leo turned to his brother, pleadingly.

“Donnie help me!!” He cried. Frustrated, screaming painfully, as he shuffled forward on his knees still holding Casey close.

“Leo…” Donnie had a look of disbelief on his face before a complete shutdown.

No.

There had to be something.

This wasn’t right.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

Casey was supposed to survive. They were piecing together a plan for Casey to survive, to live, to have a world he deserved.

He couldn’t. He wasn’t. No!

“Casey?”

Leo whimpered, his head going down to scrub his snout on his little human’s cheek. One robotic arm carrying his body weight, while the other hand still held onto the neck wound. The one that had stopped gushing. The hand that no longer felt a pulse.

Casey was gone. There would never be a reply. Donnie couldn’t help. And Leo continued to lose. Losing people. Losing hands. Losing brothers. Losing battles. Losing the war.

Losing Casey.

It was too much to handle.

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breannasfluff · 7 months

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Too Little, Too Late - P1

Whump Rating: 5/5

This is a 3-parter over the next few days, with an eventual happy ending!

TW: MCD, blood, burning, impaled, throat injury, injured Wolfie. Look, it’s not pretty. But it’s definitely whumpy. I will point you back to that happy ending note.

“Just hold on.” Hyrule presses his hand to Warriors’ stomach, swallowing hard. Blood squirts between his fingers; hot and precious. It’s something that should be inside the captain’s veins, not spilling into the mud and grass. “Just a little longer.”

Why is he out of magic? Why can’t he heal this? But the overextended feeling is familiar and damning. Until he gets a magic potion, he has to rely on basic medical supplies. And right now, in the middle of battle? That means keeping pressure on the wound.

Warriors coughs and more blood squirts. This isn’t working. His body is pumping it out faster than Hyrule can keep it in.

“Hold on, hold on, Wars. I promise, help is coming.” He glances up, eyes darting around the battlefield. Please, please let his words be true.

Yet no one is coming. The others are locked in battle or injured themselves, limping away from the fight. Hyrule is going to have to check on them soon. But first, Warriors—

He looks down and freezes. Cooling blood coats his hands; slippery and metallic. Warriors is still, eyes staring sightlessly past him.

“Warriors? Hey, captain?” The traveler removes a hand from the wound; it’s not spurting now and he refuses to acknowledge why. “Hey, hold on, okay?” He presses his fingers to Warriors’ neck, but they slip with blood.

With a frustrated growl, he wipes them roughly on his tunic and tries again. There’s no heartbeat to greet his fingers.

Warriors is gone.

Hyrule drags himself away because maybe he can save someone else. Warriors can’t just be—gone, yet he is. Maybe, maybe, maybe—

But all the maybes in the world won’t save him. Numb, he turns to rake his eyes over the battlefield.

Wild’s scream decides his direction. He sprints in the direction of the champion, pulling his sword to swipe at the bokoblin attacking him. The force of his swing separates the head from the body and it bounces to a stop. The traveler shoves the body out of the way and falls to his knees by Wild.

The hero blinks up at him, numb. His throat—Hyrule sobs, already trying to lift his hands to heal. There’s no point; he’s got no magic left.

The bokoblin attacked with teeth and Wild’s throat gapes through bloody flaps of skin. Air whistles through the holes; he can’t breathe.

“Wild—” His eyes are full of tears as he meets his friend’s eyes. “I…I’m sorry.”

Wild tries to say something; a terrible, raspy gurgle is all he can manage.

“Please—please!” He swipes at his wet eyes, clutching Wild’s hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I don’t know what to do!”

The champion lifts a hand and manages to spell a single word. H-E-L-P. Then it falls limp on his chest. The gurgle of air stops. His chest doesn’t lift again.

Hyrule finds Sky pinned to a tree. The chosen hero manages a whimper when he meets the traveler’s eyes. “Rulie…help me.”

“I…” Hyrule stares. The Master Sword is plunged through Sky’s upper chest. It glows; the same burn when it’s raised against her masters. The monster that did it lies to the side; hands and arms charred.

Hyrule reaches for the blade, even though he can’t touch it. Warning heat sears his palms and he glances at Sky again.

“She…” he coughs and blood spills from his lips. “She’s burning me.”

“Right. Let me—” Hyrule doesn’t finish, just steals himself and wraps his hand around the hilt. The sword burns. More than burns; it’s like gripping a live coal. He jumps back on instinct, shaking his hands to try to remove the stinging heat.

“Why won’t you help me?” There’s only betrayal when Sky looks at him. “Why?”

“I’m trying! The sword—it burns!” That shouldn’t matter. He can deal with pain to help Sky, right? He’s already lost two heroes.

Stealing himself, he grabs the sword again and yanks. Impossibly, it slides deeper, rather than out. Sky screams and he keeps on screaming, even when Hyrule jerks his hands back. The sound rises to a shriek and the sword glows so bright he has to look away.

There’s a whump, a burst of heat, and when Hyrule looks back, Sky, the blade, and the tree are on fire. Skin blackens and curls away, revealing red muscle beneath. The chosen hero’s mouth is open in a soundless scream.

Hyrule stumbles back, then turns and runs.

He finds Twilight in the bushes; only he’s transformed. Wolfie. The wolf whimpers when he sees him and tries to pull himself forward. There’s something wrong with his back legs.

“Shh, shh, let me see.” Hyrule pats the great furry head and moves around to check what happened.

The hamstrings on his back legs are cut. Blood stains the grass in a smeared trail, showing where Wolfie tried to drag himself off the battlefield.

Hyrule dives into his bag for bandages. While it’s bleeding, it’s not life-threatening yet. Maybe. If he can get the backs of his legs bandaged; if he can get Wolfie to transform back into Twilight—he can save him.

“Hold still, let me help.” He wraps the bandages around severed muscles; shutting out the whimpers of pain as he pulls it tight. “I know Twi, I’m sorry. But I’ve got to stop the bleeding.”

There’s a sound in the bushes and he pauses for a moment, looking up and around. Then he turns back to the other leg. “Just a little more, I’ve almost got this.”

The bushes rustle. Again, he looks up, but there’s nothing there. Just a few more passes and—there we go. Hyrule ties the bandage off and takes a shaky breath. It’s not enough; never enough, but at least he’s saved one of them.

“Ok, let’s get you—”

A lizalfo explodes from the bushes. Wolfie pushes off the ground with an animalistic scream, jaws wide.

The lizalfo slashes at the wolf as his mouth closes on its throat. Gravity aids his teeth in ripping it open and Wolfie slams into the ground. The lizalfo gurgles, stumbles a few feet, and falls to the ground.

“Wolfie!” Hyrule trips over his supplies as he falls next to the wolf.

The jump used the last of his energy. Dull eyes meet his and red-tinted foam bubbles at his mouth and nose.

Twilight gave his life to save Hyrule.

#just hold on #tw blood #tw injury #mcd #eventual happy ending #whumptober2023 #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu whumptober #breannasfluff #mywriting #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu wild #lu sky #lu twilight #lu wolfie

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luvrsux · 8 months

Text

a/n: take this until i’m done writing requests and other fics luvs ♡

ONE PIECE HEADCANONS #2

Overwatch Mains!

❝ giving each strawhat + more an overwatch hero they'd play. comment on suggestions i should do! :3 ❞

MONKEY D. LUFFY - Tracer

╰┈➤ I feel like Luffy is so simple enough to play the icon of Overwatch. Luffy was so baffled to see that she was able to teleport and immediately fell in love with the kit. Considering Tracer is also a flanking character, he'd be in the middle of the enemy team causing havoc. Will NOT touch support

Luffy: WOAH SHE CAN TELEPORT???? THATS SO COOL

Other Choices: Reinhardt as Tank, Junkrat as second Damage

RORONOA ZORO - Genji

╰┈➤ This is such an obvious choice, there's no need to explain. He rocks the Sentai skin on Genji or just his regular no-skin outfit just for the green. He's the only hero he has with gold weapons and the highest ranked. He insta-locks this man whenever he's playing.

Sanji: Do you play anyone else Mosshead???

Zoro: Just shut up and heal me if you want to win, cook

Other Choices: Doomfist as Tank

VINSMOKE SANJI - Cole Cassidy

╰┈➤ I feel like Sanji connects with Cassidy's charm and smoking habits so he plays him often. He knows Cassidy is the lover boy of the Overwatch community and everyone obsesses over him so he took that as an opportunity to main him. Sanji's second-best class is support but only really pays attention to Nami's health. Won't heal anyone else (especially Zoro) unless they're shouting at him.

Zoro: SWIRLY BROWS, CAN YOU HEAL ME? IM AT 20 IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT

Sanji: WELL MAYBE IF YOU STOPPED JUMPING SO MUCH ID HEAL YOU. LET ME HEAL MY SWEET NAMI FIRST

Zoro: I DIED ANYWAYS I HOPE THEY KILL YOU

Other Choices: Mercy and Ana as Support

GOD USOPP - Widowmaker

╰┈➤ This choice is so obvious. Widow is a sniping character, and so is Usopp. He is a menace to Widow and doesn't even know it. He likes how Widow isn't meant to be on the actual battlefield but more on the sidelines picking off the enemy teams. He screams like a bitch when someone flanks behind him though.

Usopp: Okay, I killed their supports we should be good- *A Tracer comes up from behind* LUFFYYYYYYYY THERES SOMEONE ON MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Luffy: Oh sorry Im in spawn :p

Other Choices: Lucio as Support, Hanzo as second Damage

NAMI - Kiriko

╰┈➤ Nami definitely loves Kiriko for her more angsty personality that no one likes. She'd rather help in the backlines than deal with fighting up front, but she puts the kunais to WORK. Sanji is always on her tail and targets anyone who tries to or manages to kill her.

Nami: Dang it, I died. Try to hold out a little longer guys-

Sanji: WHO DID IT NAMI????? ILL KILL THEM FOR YOU MY SWEET

Other Choices: Brigette as second Support, Ashe as Damage, D.va as Tank

TONY TONY CHOPPER - Mercy

╰┈➤ Chopper will mainly play any support but Mercy is his top choice. He tries to revive anyone he can even in the tightest of situations. He is the best healer you can get, but he can also be a great tank. But our lil baby gets stressed...

Chopper: IM COMING LUFFY DONT WORRY

Zoro: Chopper, can you damage boost me?

Chopper: YEAH IN A SEC-

Sanji: Chopper revive! That Zenyatta is so low!

Chopper: IM TRYINGGGGGGGG

Other Choices: Orisa and Wrecking Ball as Tank

NICO ROBIN - Moira

╰┈➤ There is no possible way Nico doesn't play Moira. I feel like she's more DPS Moira than anything but still upholds good support for her team.

Other Choices: Sombra as Damage, Lifeweaver as Support

FRANKY - Reinhardt

╰┈➤ Franky is 100% the crew's Tank main. He knows every tank playstyle from top to the very bottom but his favorite is of course the loudest one there. Franky is the most reliable tank you can get. He insta-locks Rein and adores him to the very end.

Sanji: I think you should switch, Franky they have a few counters-

Franky: Ill still kick their asses, I dont care Im playing Reinhardt

Other Choices: Bastion as Damage

SOUL KING BROOK - Junkrat

╰┈➤ Brook finds ruining people's day by playing the most annoying character on the roster the funniest thing ever. He laughs when Junkrat laughs manically. It's such a fitting choice for his personality

Other Choices: Reaper as second Damage

PORTGAS D. ACE - Solider: 76

╰┈➤ He is such a straightforward person enough to play Solider but be dope good at it. Ace would be the type of person to get ahead of themselves and over-extend though.

Sabo: ACE ACE YOURE OVER EXTENDING I CANT HEAL YOU-

Ace: Huh? *dies* Oh my bad

Sabo: Ill get off right now.

Luffy: BAHSKAKAHAIAHA WHY HE DIE LIKE THATAHSAA-

Other Choices: Torbjorn for second Damage

SABO - Baptiste

╰┈➤ Sabo is definitely a good damage support hero. He loves Bap for his sweet personality yet dark backstory similar to his own. He can't stand playing with 2 reckless damages every time though (Luffy and Ace)

Luffy: Saboooooo why didn't you heal meeeeeee :(

Sabo: YOURE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MAP IM SORRY???

Other Choices: Zenyatta as second Support, Echo as Damage

TRAFALGAR D. WATER LAW - Ramattra

╰┈➤ I see Law playing the most complex Tank in the game but Law can play almost anyone on the roster if he feels like it. He barely gives out any callouts unless he is raging like crazy

Luffy: Imma go in and kill everyone

Law: ...

Zoro: I need help over here not gonna lie

Law: ...

Sanji: I think Im gonna switch-

Law: CAN THIS SYMMETRA STOP PLACING TURRETS ON OUR SPAWN OH MY FUCKING-

Other Choices: Reaper as Damage, Mercy as Support

EUSTASS KIDD - Roadhog

╰┈➤ Kidd is definitely a one-trick and only for the most annoying tank in the game. Killer is definitely his pocket healer and will yell at anyone who comes after his skills in the slightest

Law: Kid please pick another tank, you're doing terrible

Kid: WHAT??? FUCK YOU SAY

Luffy: YOU SUCK

Kid: I COULD BEAT BOTH OF YOU IN A 1V1 RIGHT NOW-

thats all! i hoped you enjoyed the little dialogues hehe

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rakatan · 3 months

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the thing about comparing anakin and elzar is…we’re doing it wrong. their minor parallels don’t serve to highlight their similarities but rather they serve to emphasize their significant differences.

upon reading that elzar has yet to reach masterhood naturally our minds will gravitate toward anakin. it gives us the readers something to base elzar against while we watch his character unfold. elzar’s continued knighthood is surprising due to this innate comparison. he’s not too young, he’s not inexperienced, he’s not troubled, he’s not being manipulated into the council by the chancellor…elzar is simply not the easiest to work with. that’s all. his sporadic explorations without explanations lead his fellows to find him difficult and to the council, that reason is enough. while anakin’s masterhood being delayed is understandable, reasonable, and not unfair, elzar’s is. the difference here emphasizes that even within the jedi, those who do not fit into perfected molds are often inherently punished for doing so.

he thought it was unfair. he didn’t care about other jedi’s paths through the force—why should they concern themselves with his? he just wanted to follow his road where it led.

their reactions to this delayed masterhood also differ. this mistreatment irritates elzar since none of his innovations put others in harm's way, but his willingness to fail outshines the incredible knowledge he contributes to the order. and although he might disagree with the council’s decision he will still abide by them and listen to their judgment. it again emphasizes that elzar is older and has a level of emotional maturity that anakin was never allowed to reach.

when we learn that elzar and avar had a romantic relationship in the past our minds also jump to the forbidden relationship between a jedi and republic senator. especially considering one of elzar and avar’s first scenes elzar suggests retirement on the same island anakin and padme got married on. elzar’s differences from anakin are highlighted again when we watch him let go of avar in the epilogue of light of the jedi. elzar loves avar and he always will, but his attachment to her at this moment was not consuming him completely. avar reaches out to hold his hand and he reminds her that “we are jedi,” she invites him to dance and he declines until later, elzar describes his emotions with intensity but elzar also lets go. their relationship was never dangerous and the emotional intimacy they do maintain is enough for him.

avar was a friend. a fellow jedi master. they’d agreed long ago that’s all they would ever be. and it was enough. truly, it was.

the most common comparison i see drawn between these two is the usage of the dark side. understandably so, elzar is one of the only jedi in the high republic to tap into the dark side but the reason why he does differentiates him from anakin and even his closest peers. elzar doesn’t use the dark side to take lives, he doesn’t use the dark side to appease his own selfish desires, elzar uses the dark side to save a group of jedi. in his typical fashion elzar finds solutions and at his lowest point, in the middle of a battlefield, elzar sees that he can use his emotions to save lives. the build-up to this moment was written incredibly well, it combines elzar’s innovative mind, overly compassionate heart, and the emotional anguish that has been plaguing him for months. in contrast to other jedi and anakin, elzar has pure intentions even though his actions may not result in the best of outcomes.

"we have a jedi who does flirt to the dark side and realizes what road he's going down, where instead of embracing it, goes to a friend and says, "i need help." we didn't want elzar to be anakin 2.0." - cavan scott

the generalizations between these two often do their characters a disservice by ignoring their defining differences. differences that are intentionally being highlighted to further the contrast of each era and the contrast of the two as individuals.

#elzar mann #the high republic #eye of darkness #eye of darkness spoilers #i mostly talk about elzar here because anakin has been talked about extensively

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stardustandash · 2 months

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Last of the Febuwhump fics is here! Prompt is Killing in Self-Defense. Pre-Jedi Fallen Order & kinda dark, I hope u like it!!

Words: 2000

Tags: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Emetophobia, Child Death

ao3 Link

Is It Justified?

The village is dusty, dirty, and silent. It feels lonely through the Force. Cal doesn’t like it. Every whisper of the wind, every creak of a door in its frame, puts Cal on edge. He drifts father and father behind his men. Twitch and Sunny are bickering back and forth in front, and Arson, Nix and Patch flanking them on parallel streets. They were droid hunting after the big battle, or they were supposed to be. Cal suspected Master Tapal had assigned Cal and his squad this task since it was so far from the battlefield and gave them little opportunity to get into trouble. The village, though on a Separatist planet, had been abandoned before the battle started, and Cal didn’t know what use droids would have for it, aside from some cover. But it wasn’t as if they needed to stop for healing or rest. Any droids would be long gone back to the Separatist stronghold Master Tapal had gone to investigate.

Still, Cal can’t help but be on edge. There’s something he’s missing. His hand drifts towards the hilt of his lightsaber, the cool metal of the grip a comfort. At least he isn’t hanging off of Sunny’s arm on missions anymore. He’s twelve, almost thirteen. Too old to be scared by empty villages and the wind. Master Tapal had even said that he was thinking of letting him lead his squad on his own mission on the next campaign. If he got scared now, then he’d never get to prove himself.

The Force pulls at Cal. A stinging wrongness that adds to the unease. Neither Twitch or Sunny seem to feel the same as their blasters hang loose in their grips to the point that Cal should say something about attention or duty, but finds the words stuck in his throat and taken by the wind.

Cal feels the Force nudging him towards a narrow path between the houses. There’s something there. He glances ahead to Twitch and Sunny and debates whether he should say something. Even before the thought finishes forming his ears turn red with embarrassment. He can handle whatever it is. He has to. It’s probably just some kind of rodent or a pet left behind. He creeps towards the space, one hand on his lightsaber and halfway to unhooking it. There’s a small sound of something rustling or shifting and Cal swallows down his fear and jumps out of the space into the street beyond.

A girl stares back at him. She only comes up to his shoulder and her head is a mess of dirty blonde hair. A battered brown stuffed toy dangles from her hand, so ragged at this point Cal can’t tell what it is supposed to be. She looks up at him with fear in her eyes and Cal is so taken aback he almost ignores the warning in the Force.

The Force screams, and Cal turns with his lightsaber in hand to meet the threat. A man stands towering over him with a knife in hand. Cal doesn’t think, he just reacts. The green blade of his lightsaber appears on the other side of the man before Cal even realizes he’s run him through.

The girl screams. It’s wordless at first but it eventually forms into anword Cal can recognize: “Papa!”

Cal’s stomach drops. His lightsaber falls from his grasp. The man lets out one last, groaning breath as he collapses, still and unmoving.

The girl rushes to her father’s side with tears running down her face. Cal’s mind is both blank and chaotic. He steps forward, wanting to offer apologies or comfort or something to the girl. He’s so off guard he doesn’t see the glint of metal nor feel the warning through the Force. He only sees the girl’s face harden as she throws herself at him. She tackles him around the middle, and Cal is taken aback at the movement. She’s wrapped him in an odd sort of hug, except her fist is uncomfortably trapped between them. When she staggers back Cal can see the blood on her hands. Her father’s blood. Guilt settles uncomfortably in his stomach. He killed someone. He killed a girl’s father right in front of her. The guilt burns in his stomach. Cal presses a hand against it and tries to take a shaky step forward.

“I’m sorry,” says Cal, voice weak and wet. “I’m sorry.”

The girl raises her bloody fist and Cal sees the glint of metal. At the same time he becomes aware of the wetness on his fingers where they are pressed against his stomach. It takes his mind a minute to connect those two things. Cal’s knees go weak and he stumbles, not quite sure where he’s trying to go. It doesn’t matter, as he doesn’t get more than one shaky step before he’s falling to his hands and knees. Distantly he registers the sound of blaster fire and a soft thump just as his arms give out and he faceplants onto the dirt.

There’s the sound of duraplast boots running towards him and then there are hands flipping him over and Cal’s looking up at Sunny. His helmet is off, Commander Gamut would yell at him, but Cal is glad that can see Sunny’s face, even if it’s twisted in worry. The others stand around them with blasters ready. Arson has one hand on the side of his helmet and Cal can hear him faintly as he comms out.

“General, Commander Gamut. We have a situation in sector two-three-five. Commander Kestis is down, we need a medic immediately.”

Cal can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but he feels the clones around him tense.

“I don’t know if we have that kind of time, Sir,” says Arson in a tight voice.

“Don’t pay attention to them Cal, you’ll be fine,” says Sunny as he pats Cal’s face. “You didn’t get stabbed anywhere important, so you’ll last long enough to get medical attention.”

“Sunny, not helpful,” growls Twitch.

“What?”

Cal blinks. Sunny is getting a little blurry and his eyes slide past him as his neck goes limp. There are two unmoving lumps in his vision. One is small, with a smudge of blonde hair. The girl. Cal remembers the sound of blaster fire and a sick feeling rises in the back of his throat.

“Hey, hey, eyes on me, kid,” says Sunny. His hand cups Cal’s face and turns him away from the unmoving bodies.

“I got a stim,” offers Patch. “Won’t do much but it’ll keep him going until a medic can make it to us.”

“It won’t hurt,” says Nix.

There’s a pinch, then a cool sensation slides over Cal. Everything snaps into clarity and Cal’s thoughts start screaming as his stomach starts burning worse than anything he’s ever felt. He groans and tries to roll, but hands stop him. Twitch and Sunny are holding him, their hands burn against his cheeks and his stomach.

“Let me up,” Cal begs. “Let me up.”

“Not a chance, Commander,” says Twitch.

“The General and Gamut are on their way to our position,” adds Arson. “You just focus on staying alive for now.”

Cal feels the dampness in the corner of his eyes and tries to blink it away. His stomach is burning and all he wants is his room on the Brave, with his soft, non-regulation blanket and his stuffed tooka and the feeling of a thousand lives around him in the Force.

“Oh, you’re alright kid. Don’t worry. We’ll get you patched up in no time. And if not, well, it’s not like you’ll have to worry about it,” says Sunny as he thumbs a tear from Cal’s cheek.

“Not helping!” says a chorus of similar voices.

Cal almost smiles through the pain, but his eyes once again fall on the still bodies next to them. With the stim in his system Cal can see the blackened holes in the girl. Blaster bolts. They’d killed her. To save him, yes, but they killed her. Revulsion burns in his throat and his stomach heaves. Twitch barely manages to get Cal onto his side before he vomits up what rations he’d had for breakfast and a spattering of blood. He coughs, then gags again as the movement tears at the bloody hole in his stomach. Tears are streaming down his face in earnest now, whether from the pain or the sorrow at being the cause of two needless deaths, Cal can’t tell. The brief bout of clarity from the stim is wearing off and his thoughts are starting to go fuzzy around the edges again.

He can hear Twitch and Sunny murmuring platitudes to him but he can’t focus on the words. Everything is too much. Too loud, too painful, too sad. Even the hand rubbing his back feels like its grating his skin, yet he doesn’t want it to stop. The smell of bile burns in his nose from his own sick and Cal wiggles as far back as he can from it while trapped in place by the two clones.

Cal tries to collapse into himself, to try sinking into that meditative state where the world feels far away. What he probably does is pass out for a while as he comes back to reality with tears staining his face and a familiar comforting presence in the Force blocking out everything but the feeling of safety. Cal reaches out blindly until his hands feel the soft, worn fabric of Master Tapal’s robes and he clings to them with all the strength he has left. Master Tapal pulls him into his arms, and when Cal’s brain catches up to his body being maneuvered, he is held tight against his Master’s chest where he can hear his heartbeat and feel his Master’s support through the Force.

“It is faster if I take him to the medics than wait for them to arrive,” says Master Tapal. Cal feels the words rumbling through his chest rather than hearing them with his ears.

“Sir!” a chorus echoes around him.

Then they are moving. The motion doesn’t hurt or make Cal sick. Instead it soothes him like the rocking of a boat. He turns and tucks his head into Master Tapal’s chest. The guilt is still eating at his stomach, as if the knife pressed it into him and it’s spreading from the hole it left behind.

“Peace, Padawan,” Master Tapal murmurs.

“I killed them Master, and they didn’t have to die,” mumbles Cal. The words are no doubt muffled by the fact that Cal’s face is pressed into his Master’s robes and thick with emotion, but he knows Master Tapal understands anyway.

Master Tapal walks on silently for a minute. Cal frets internally in the silence. What if Master Tapal doesn’t want him anymore because of what he’s done. What if he’s done so much wrong he can’t be a Jedi anymore.

“They are dead because of you, yes,” says Master Tapal slowly. “They did not have to die, and their deaths are a tragedy. It is good that you feel this way. However, they attacked you, they hurt you. If it is a choice between you and them, I want you to pick you every time, Padawan. The only way to hold the line against the darkness is to be the line. If you die, the darkness wins.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I will give the same talk to your men as well. When you are better, we will also meditate on this topic.”

Cal nods against Master Tapal’s shoulder. The words haven’t done much to ease the sick feeling in his stomach, but he’s also too tired to focus much anymore. The arms holding him tighten around him and the swaying cadence of Master Tapal’s steps increases. He sinks into their warmth and the comfort offered. He doesn’t feel better about anything, but at least his Master is here, and Master Tapal always knows what to do.

#jedi fallen order #cal kestis #jaro tapal #fanfic #fanfiction #febuwhump #j:fo

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mychlapci · 7 minutes

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Rodimus giving birth painfully at the worst time possible and with no help whatsoever.

Its in the middle of battle and he’s in too much pain to move, his tank is painfully stiff and swollen and he’s in so much pain but his fluids haven’t even broken yet and there is so much pressure all he can do is vent heavy and huddle under the shelter hoping the wrong bot doesn’t find him.

Best part about it?

He wasn’t even in this battle.

He was on a civi huddle trying to get to safety because he left after finding out he was sparked.

Sires?

Deadlock and Ratchet who don’t even know.

He’s literally got the worst luck because bombs are falling and soldiers are offlining and bullets are flying in the space he’s in and crawling only did so much his tanks are too heavy on his frame and half his spoilers been blown off while the other half is leaking energon hanging by a thread.

This mech is in serious trouble because he feels his sparklings moving and its making everything worse and the siren for clearing the battlefield sounds and he knows he’s really fragged because that means they send out a large bomb and what do they do?

Drop the largest bomb that caves in his shelter and guess who just so happened to fall in protecting each other?

Deadlock and Ratchet who have no idea he’s behind them as they check each other over and talk quietly so relieved they survived as they mention it’ll take at least two days to remove the rubble so they can escape.

And guess whose frame wracks with pain as their sparkling readjusts and kicks them too hard and makes him fail at stifling an agonized scream thats muffled from him biting into his arm?

Deadlock and Ratchet have the most distressed, out of frame mind zapping shock of their life cycles seeing Rodimus like that.

Your thoughts/the rest?

Ooh poor Rodimus (Hot Rod?)... but he was lucky that a bickering Deadlock and Ratchet ended up in the rubble with him. For a moment they’re too busy fighting and pointing out whose fault it was that they ended up here and how long it’s gonna take them to get out thar they don’t notice that there’s someone still alive in the mess. Hot Rod squealing out as his forge clenches alerts them to his presence very quickly…

When they realize it’s Hot Rod, their shared… friend, they rush to him and no matter how hard he tries to hide his pregnant belly from them, his water finally breaking tips them off. I don’t think they realize they’re the sires at first, but when Ratchet scolds him for not coming to him when he got sparked and Hot Rod tells him he didn’t want to hang a sparkling on his shoulders it clicks.

Deadlock is more stunted. Ratchet knows what to do, but Deadlock does not. I think he only jumps to action once Ratchet orders him to help him get Hot Rod out of the rubble and onto a more comfortable surface. Hot Rod was very lucky to have been found by them. Ratchet can patch him up and help coach him through the birth. He can already see that Roddy’s been straining himself, forcing himself to push when he does not need to. Thankfully his water finally broke and it’s gonna be significantly easier from now… Hot Rod clings to Deadlock as Ratchet helps him coax out the sparkling, scolding him for not telling them, for keeping this to himself, for trying to move through an active war-zone when he knew he’s that far along. Because of all the stress and the fighting still going on outside, Hot Rod has a very hard time giving birth, but at least he can scream into Deadlock’s chest this time around <3

if it’s going to take at least a couple days to clear out the rubble they know they’re in hot water. Hot Rod’s sparkling comes out alive but barely holding on and they don’t have enough fuel for the four of them… Everyone has to pitch in to keep the little one fed, which slows down the progress. Hot Rod’s injuries and the fact that he’s only recently birthed a sparkling mean they have to drag him out and help him walk across the empty battlefield… Hopefully, they can reconnect with an autobot squadron soon, and as for Deadlock… he’s going to stay with his sparkling for as long as he can, for now.

#valveplug #birth #birth mention #pregnancy mention #texty

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sharkfinx · 10 months

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Childhood Memories.

Far from the mainland of Kirigakure, deeper in the mist where the rays of sun would only reach in the hottest of the summer days. Wood platforms stand floating in the sea as the waves are peaceful at that part of the country. Some houses are connected by bridges, others seem to only lead to nothing at the first glance. Not all Hoshigakis liked to be dry all the time, some structures stood deeply at the sea’s bottom.

Bubbles emerge at the corner of one of those platforms as one boy jumps from the water. Holding a red crab over his head and with quick steps enter one of those houses.

"Mamaaa Mamaaa! Can I eat this??" The little boy exclaims to a taller figure, already nibbling on one of the crustacean’s legs. His mother stands almost two and half meters tall, their head resembles more a shark than the rest of their body. Their hands are busy sharpening a dagger in a grindstone in the middle of the kitchen.

"Oh dear, you'll ruin your appetite…. you better give it to me, nee." Her voice differs from her appearance, it’s a soft and monotone tone. She takes the little animals from the kid's hands and daggle it over her big jaw full of teeth. “Not fair! Not fair! Mama maaama!” The tiny boy can’t do anything besides try to reach it with his tiny hands. As the crab was falling inside their mouth, a spear came flying and hits it. Crashing the little one over the bamboo’s wall. Another figure, smaller and more human..if it wasn't one single gill under each one of her cheeks and the blue grayish skin. She shakes her head negatively toward the two. At their back there’s a giant piece of squid that is wrapped with a net. It’s already sliced up as if it was torn apart with precision.

“Eeehh? You’re taking the prey from your own kid? I’ll pull all of your teeth out.” The woman enters the kitchen soaked in water, twisting their long blue hair over the floor. It doesn’t seem to matter as the wood didn’t seem to absorb it. That house is adapted for that type of living. She tosses her caught at the other’s muzzle. “--- Again?” The giant answered with a scared voice, rummaging through kitchen’s silverware. A large ceramic board is placed in the sink, as it starts to prepare the dinner. “—don’t be so dramatic, my love. You act as if they wouldn’t grow back… besides you forgot to bring the kelp I asked twice that week. It’s your own fault.” She gives light taps over her wife’s shoulder before placing a hand over her own mouth that had the same sharp teeth. “Kekeekekeek ~”

“No no.. you have to be more elegant, Kii-chan.” The smaller woman has a bamboo sword in her hands, circling the kid that stands still, balancing rice bags over their head and shoulders. At the slight movement, the mother gently taps her sword at his ankle, fixing his posture. “Mizukages can’t have rude soldiers by their side. We’re Hoshigakis—We are their blade, their hand, their strength…. Outside the battlefield we must be pristine, educated and — “What happens if I’m not?” The boy interrupts her, with a mockery grin. “I’ll bite your head off and have another son. Kekekeke~” She smacks the top of his head with the bamboo sword, rolling her eyes. “Ouchy! Moooommmm! You’re always saying that…” He feels his feet sinking for a second—immediately controlling his chakra to stay over the water. “Kii-chan, focus. Go on, again.” “I’m Hoshigaki Kisame, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He places a hand over his chest, bowing elegantly… it’s all perfect until a bag of rice falls from his shoulders. Silence. The little boy shrugs with a guilty smile but his mom doesn’t forgive. He runs but she’s faster and as soon after catching him, affectionally nimble on the boy’s head as he laughs wholeheartedly.

The taller Hoshigaki and her kid are wearing matching aprons, the kitchen is big enough to fit them. Completely adapted with all tools that were handcrafted for her big claw hands. While the mom gouges the fishes from a basket, the little boy, standing over a chair, helps her by cutting vegetables. “ — I was from the fifth squad of soldiers while your mom was from the first division. She didn’t really want to retire, neee.” She talks in a dreamy manner, holding one of the fishes to her cheek. “Who would? Standing side by side by the third. She was so fierce, so strong… What an honor. Be their blade and listen directly to his orders? fighting non stop, the bloody org—” Kisame is unsure if his mom’s passion is directed to the Mizukage or to her wife. Maybe both? But his ears perked when she suddenly stopped. “Bloody what?” His ears work too good for his own good. “ Nothing, nee.” Her face is dark blue. She gets one of the fishes that wasn’t cut and slices their head off. Turning it upside down on a cup as she waits for the blood to pour. Pushing to the boy that quickly forgets his question and starts drinking as if was a juice. “Then then?” “Well… We were training as usual. The first division is responsible for training the rest of the soldiers… and then It was my turn. I knew I wasn’t going to win, nee ! but I tried my best. In the end, I had one broken arm and one rib. My dorsal fin was bleeding out because she almost tore it off. Then she grabbed my face and said; What a pathetic girl you are, Kekekeke. ~” The fish on her claws is smashed to bits as she fangirls in a completely passionate voice. “Took me 5 years to be able to defeat her so we could marry. So many broken bones.. Would do it all over again! nee nee ~” “But pathetic is ...! That’s an insult! That's rude! nee?” Kisame watches his mom pathetically hides her embarrassed face. “You won’t understand! You’re still a little pup, dear. Now enough talking! Finish cutting those before we both get our eyes pulled off, nee.” She cleans off the bits of fish with water from the sink as they both return doing their chores.

It's graduation day. The friendships that were made in the past years were sliced off at every dance of sword that crashes at each other. Bodies cover the floor; Kids, young adults and others. All of the silenced voices had only one goal: to be a shinobi. Their only bad luck is to have a Hoshigaki at their class.

As his sword goes back to the shelf, the last one standing is covered in so much blood that his blue skin can’t be seen. It’s the first time Kisame has the scent of human blood. The ecstasy that only a winner can feel. From the top of the stairs a man stands taller than others, his expression unchanging upon the carnage. He stands from his chair—walks by the long stairs that take up the center of the stage. His long dark hair adorned with pears, his face calmer than death itself. The elegance, his manners. As he walks, others bow in respect. Until they’re face to face. His mothers talked about this man but seeing him was another completely experience. As if an angel descends from the heavens to meet him. A power that he can’t comprehend looks down, silently. The 10 year old boy places a hand over his chest, looks down and finally takes a knee. “I’m Hoshigaki Kisame, it’s an honor to meet you. Mizukage sama.” Perfectly acted at every bit, when given the order he opens his eyes again and stands up. He watches those hands so affectionately place the Kirigakure’s bandana over his forehead. Eyes never blinking staring at the figure, their straight hair that falls over their shoulder so gracefully, their delicate eyelashes and compassion. “Honor your village and the ones before and after me. Congratulations. Hoshigaki Kisame.” The little boy’s heart burst. It’s instincts, an automatic imprint that happens to every single one of his kin. He’s not nervous, but there’s something in his chest that burns passionately and he finally understands his mothers’s feelings. A loyalty uncompressible to anyone other than Hoshigakis. “What a monstrous chakra he has.” The mizukage places a hand over the spiky blue hair of the graduate and gently pets. “He’s a single child after all. Kekekeke..”

Hoshigaki’s families rarely had a single child, the usual was six at the start as the number go down as they share that aspect with their animal counterpart. Three was the normal.. but one?

“I guess he didn’t even spare his own siblings, nee.” “A monster, indeed. The monster of our hidden mis---” Their conversation is interrupted by a loud, deep purring that comes from the kid. All eyes turn to Kisame as he is grinning, eyes closed and nuzzling the Mizukage’s hand with his head. His mothers shake their heads, tapping his own forehead. The mizukage almost form something that resembles the smallest of the grins. He doesn’t smile—since that died a long time ago when someone was taken from him.

The three of them are walking under the moonlight, Kisame is over the shoulders of one of his moms, staring without stop at his bandana. “Ooooo! Smells like him!” He lowers it down as both of his moms give a sniff. “ It does! Isn’t that incredible? neee. Kii-chan!” The one carrying Kisame smiles happily afterwards. “I’m soo jealous! I was graduated by the second’s… His scent wasn’t as good.” “Someday…I...—would be nice to work for the Mizukage sama, nee ~” The kid nuzzle his mom’s head, taking a big yawn. “Kekekeke ~ It was inevitable! It's our instincts. The Mizukage represents our village and its people, ….Our connection with them runs in our blood. Kii-chan. When we shared our first meal—and our ancestors launched themselves into the land and lost their skin. The first accepted us as their kids.... but the third accept us as we are. Bloodlust and all. It’s our sacred purpose. As they are the only ones that can handle our feral kind of love.”

He listens closely to his mother as her image mirrors under the sea at her feet. The bandana is tied back to their forehead and he promises to not forget what it represents.

#| drabble #// *taps on the mic* and then he goes and fucking forget it #// 🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️#// I needed this for actually be an prior thing for another thing but i think would be fun to share #// shrugs accept his as an HC type of thingy #// i spend the evening googling timelines ok dont call me out #//but to be honest i don't remember shit from my 10 years old

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riken-leather-co · 7 months

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Bapzo Whumptober 2023 |

“Stay in the immortality field!” Baptiste yelled, jumping up as he tossed the disk. It arced before landing right in the middle of Zarya and Mei. Mei tossed him a brief thankful smile before walling off an enemy. The battlefield was chaotic as usual. Anyone normal would struggle to keep up with the course of events, but all of them had their quirks. He cast a glance upwards, frowning in concern when he didn’t spot Hanzo.

“Hanzo, you copy?” He knew Hanzo despised him checking in on him when it wasn’t necessary. Preferred that Baptiste focused on keeping himself alive. But, Baptiste had lost far too many people and didn't want to lose another.

When there wasn’t a response he shared a look with Zarya before she jerked her chin, ‘Go’ it said.

“I’ll be back before you can say ‘Medic!’,” he said, using his exo boosts to rocket himself up onto the nearest building. He was making his way over to where he’d last seen Hanzo when his comms crackled to life.

“Assistance…may be required,” Hanzo muttered over the mic. It was a tone Baptiste knew as ‘I’m in trouble but I refuse to admit it’. A tone that both infuriated and exasperated him. But, Hanzo’s stubbornness was a trait Baptiste was fond of.

“Where are you?”

“Coordinates.” Was all he said, the sound of a few shots going off, before the comms shut off again. Baptiste glanced at the hologram that popped up in front of his eye. It wasn’t far, just a few buildings over. Soon enough he arrived at the edge, looking down at the alleyway. Hanzo was crouched behind cover, firing a few blind shots at enemies just around the corner - providing their own cover fire. With the advantage of height surprise, Baptiste took them out quickly. Then he hopped down to join Hanzo.

“Miss me?”

“You are a welcome sight.” Hanzo grabbed his arm and pulled him aside, firing a shot at a soldier who’d been aiming at him. “However, I am afraid to admit that was not all of them.”

“Oh.” Baptiste straightened up, glancing around as he took a step back, finding himself back to back with Hanzo. It seemed they’d been waiting for back up - so that they could hopefully catch more than one of them at once. He watched some soldiers flood both sides of the alley. Baptiste cracked his neck and readied his rifle. “I’ve seen worse.”

It would be difficult with the narrow alleyway. Their movement would be restricted. And, while he could use his ecoboost, Hanzo was more limited with his movement. Baptiste wouldn’t leave him behind. He sent an SOS and their location to the others. They just had to last until help could come, easy. Right? Right?

“No funny quips?” Hanzo asked as the fight began and fire began to echo around them. Baptiste left his back to Hanzo, and vice versa. He grinned a little as he started to shoot enemies.

“Aw. So you do like my jokes!”

Despite their banter, they quickly fell silent. The enemies began progressing. They dodged where they could, but they weren’t invincible. Eventually, wounds began emerging and slip ups began to happen. Baptiste grunted and rammed the butt of his rifle against the head of the soldier who got too close. Then he shot another but not before they got a shot off on his shoulder. Pain blossomed in the area and he hissed, gritting his teeth as he made himself persevere. He heard a grunt from Hanzo as he likely faced injuries of his own. Still, there was no sign of back up just yet and Baptiste began to worry. He was running out of bullets and a glance over his shoulder proved that Hanzo was running out of arrows.

“You -”

“If you suggest I boost out of here, fat chance.” Baptiste said through gritted teeth, healing when he heard Hanzo give another grunt of pain.

“Baptiste.” He could hear the exasperation in Hanzo’s voice.

“Lala, I can’t hear you over the sound of bullets!” Unfortunately, Baptiste had made a tactical mistake in showing that he was very much capable of keeping Hanzo up and running. Tactical, because Baptiste personally couldn’t feel bad about healing Hanzo. Even if it had him end up with a bullet in the side for his troubles - the enemy, naturally, targeting the healers.

There’s no playing it off with the way Baptiste clutches his side and curses, firing a shot that barely hits him. Hanzo’s at his side in an instant, ushering him to the side to at least cover them from one direction of the fire. He can see that Hanzo wants to worry over him but continues to fight instead. Finally, Baptise heard Zarya’s voice over the crowd. Fire dimmed as soldiers were forced to split their attention. He sighed and lowered his gun, turning his focus to pressing his hand against his side as hard as he could.

It proved more difficult than it sounded. With the adrenaline and fire dying down, his body began to feel the wounds. The bullet in his shoulder was making itself just as known as the one in his side. His hands were shaky as they began getting slick with his own blood. Baptiste squeezed his eyes shut, trying to blink the black spots out his vision. It was then he noticed Hanzo crouched in front him. Many would take his expression as angry, but Baptiste could see the worried furrow to his brow.

“Your concern…is flattering,” Baptiste jokes, his smiling quickly turning into a grimace.

“Stop speaking.” Hanzo tore took Baptiste’s pack from him, instructing him to lift his shirt as he went to quickly seal Baptiste’s wounds. “I wish to remove the bullet, but we must get moving, quickly. Can you stand?”

“Will you carry me?”

Hanzo stood up with intent and Baptiste quickly sat himself up, regretting it when it pulled on his side. “Kaka! It - I was joking -”

“..Are you sure?”

“Just..help me stand up,” Baptiste muttered, embarrassment settling over him as Hanzo assisted him. The world spun around him and he shut his eyes as he leaned against Hanzo.

Baptiste could feel Hanzo’s eyes on him their entire shuffle back with Zarya and Mei guiding them. When the Orca began to rise into view he finally glanced back at the man. “I’m not going to die from two bullet wounds, you know.” Sure, it hurt like hell. And sure, he was getting dizzy and his body was weak and achy. But, it wasn’t life threatening, he thought.

“...I know you won’t.” Hanzo frowned a little before looking away. “...Still, even I can worry.”

“...,” Baptiste chuckled slightly and shook his head. “...It does hurt pretty bad. I might need some help with my nightly bubble bath. Doctors orders.”

“Doctors orders,” Hanzo confirmed, lips twitching. He held Baptiste a little closer as they stepped onto the Orca together.

#whumptober 2023 #no.7 #no.8 #alleyway #outnumbered #fanfic #overwatch 2 #overwatch #hanzo shimada #jean baptiste augustin #gun shot #injury

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markimoowantstowrite · 1 year

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For MLM Enjoyers...

Hello Tumblr!

I'm an aspiring author and have quite a few works that I want to introduce to readers out there, and thought what better way to do than then jump into social media! I have several ideas for books that I want to get out there, but I'm not sure what exactly people would find more entertaining in a novel. so, I'll be using this post to share brief summaries of my WIPs.

Sea, Swallow Me

This title is my favorite, so I've given much thought and effort to all that I've written so far. I have plans of making it based on Medieval Japan(specifically the Muromachi Period) with references to several beliefs of their people.

The story has a trope similar to the knight and the prince trope, except they are replaced with a samurai and a ruling lord of the country. The main characters venture throughout the archipelago and even to the neighboring nation based on Ancient China, while still keeping aspects of olden cultural bits and practices of Eastern Asia. Their journey is to find the father of the current ruling lord, a man who was assumed dead when a blue fire broke out and burned his estate thousands of years ago. During the time spent on this long journey, love blossoms between the lord and his samurai.

Choking On Flowers

There is still no endgame for this story, as it is based on the true story of a young transgender man(female to male) in an American high school system. He is faced with the mental torture of those feeling developing for those around him. Modern loneliness is no joke!

Themes such as anxiety, depression, gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, and other mental health-related topics will be present in this work.

Silver Bullet

This tale also still has no end game, despite it being one of my older ideas.

I have plans for this story to take place in a continent based similarly to Europe during the 1900s, with people facing the terrors of war and werewolves. The main character fought these beasts with his bare hands once, losing his right arm in the process. several years later, he's had an experienced mechanic fix him up for the war against those monsters, returning to the battlefield with a prosthetic silver arm.

Copper Head

Also an incomplete idea that I received motivation for only after listening to edits on social media with songs such as "Arabian Night." For this work, I most definitely want to have a desert environment, with characters, places, and cultures based on those of Middle Eastern lifestyles and practices.

In this tale, The main character's right eye has been stolen by the same man who cast him down from heaven and only made him half as strong as he used to be, now only bearing one eye and a sliver of power from his immortal life. His eyes are what hold his power, and one of them was stolen. Of course, he has to get it back!

Heart of Gold

English pirates and a man with a heart of literal gold. It can't be any more stressful for our main character now, can it?

The leading character of this work travels on his own because of the priceless bounty on his heart, only getting by with the help of a sea beast he had only recently befriended, as well as the prince of the country based in England. Now, traveling with a golden heart, a sea beast, a wealthy prince, and an even higher bounty on his head than his heart, how will he ever make it alive?

These are just a few ideas I've had brewing in my head, and I hope that some people can help me out by telling me which of these they feel would be more entertaining so I have an idea of what today's readers would enjoy reading the most.

That's all!

#writing #queer #gay #transgender #trans ftm #reading #author #original #original work #original character #books #young #yaf #young adult #fiction #history #historical fiction

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

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Draw your swords, pt. 6

Summary: Losing someone can make you realize what was already there and the Darkling is about to find that out the hard way.

Warnings: angst, violence, swearing, bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five

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Five days have passed and the Darkling had never stopped looking for his wife. His men never saw him rest, sleep was simply never on his agenda. He barely ate at all, merely giving time for the rest of them to gather their strength.

He was restless, constantly questioning how this could have happened. No matter how he looked at it, the Darkling felt guilt consuming him. Without his rage, he worried the guilt would have paralyzed him. Had he not went on a pointless hunt for something that’s likely a tale, she would have been right by his side, antagonizing him.

It’s been hundreds of years since he felt this way, as if his heartstrings are being pulled by someone other than himself. In this search for Y/N, he realized she is consuming. After all, she might have been right – a part of him may actually care for her. He cursed that part of himself over and over again as result.

They’ve tracked her toward Fjerdan borders. Every now and then, they would find bodies on the road, their throat cut or stabbed right through the heart. Sometimes, he found them alive still. He never refrained from calling on his shadows, trying to draw useful information to close in on their whereabouts.

Y/N never saw him use his shadows before. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d disapprove of the means he’s using to find her. After all, she called him a demon on their wedding night. She would never accept him as he is, he had no doubt about that.

Did she want to be found by him?

The first body they found, the Darkling smiled. He didn’t question it was her hands who have taken the man’s life. There was no concrete proof, but he was certain of it. Every body found felt like her own version of breadcrumbs.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled heavily. If she managed to set herself free so many times to leave what was now five dead men behind, he couldn’t help but worry for her safety. What was the price of each crumb she left?

It wasn’t just the exposure to snow he worried about – and he did worry as she got cold too quickly and he was the one to warm her up before. Who’d warm her up now?

The darkness of the forest gave him cause to worry too – she may have tried to hide it, but he knew she was afraid of the dark. He realized it when her breathing turned shallow and fast their first night together just as she extinguished the candlelight. The next night, he left his candle to burn long into the night.

Something stirred inside him, a beast has awakened. Despite the war his heart and mind waged, he wondered if he’s his own worst enemy. Maybe it was time to let someone in. For too long, he had been alone in the shadows of his past lives.

Why is he repeating the same mistakes?

How can he be afraid when he married a woman who never blinks in the face of danger?

His heart was ice and stone until she came and now the ice has started to melt. All he’s done is hurt and destroy, but he wanted out of the loneliness that clings to him.

She was right, as hard as it is to admit it. He’s a demon, a devil that walks the earth and he cares. Because of her he hopes he might love again and he can’t let anyone take that from him – hope is the only thing stronger than fear. And when a devil falls in love and discovers hope, it’s the most hauntingly beautiful sight. They should fear him as he will go to the depths of hell to protect her.

While his eyes may have been closed, his heart jumped as a bright flash forced him to open them again.

He was never given a chance to be soft. His hands had to be bloody, to have people fear him. Only when they feared him, they wouldn’t hurt him. Now was the time to show them just why they fear him.

“Where?” He growled out, looking to Ivan and Fedyor who were looking at the sky.

“East”, Fedyor replied hastily, ready to follow Kirigan who set off in said direction without a second thought. He didn’t order anyone to follow, but they did.

Ivan and Fedyor walked two steps behind their general, alert as the flash had awakened them from a deep slumber. They weren’t the only ones shaken, unsure what they’re walking into but none showed fear as their general lead them straight to the source. Their loyalty, their belief in general Kirigan runs deep.

Except for David. He was afraid. He didn’t want to be in that forest and he didn’t want to be in danger, but he trusted Kirigan. Besides, Y/N was nice and Genya seemed to like her. So he came along too.

Kirigan walked in strides, the snow didn’t slow him down. His hands formed fists, his face twisted in anger, but his heart pounded in his chest as he had no inkling what he might find. All he knew was that he had to get there, fast.

As if made of darkness itself, the Darkling emerged on what looked like a battlefield. The trees surrounded a small clearing covered in snow that melted under the spilled blood – still warm as it poured from the dead surrounding her.

She’s on her knees, two Fjerdans chaining her up as if she’s a wild animal.

“You think you’re scary, huh?” She spat at the Fjerdan’s feet – a crimson liquid, Darkling realized. She’s bleeding.

“That’s adorable”, she chuckled maniacally as she held her fierce gaze on the Fjerdan stood before her. They pulled her left hand behind her back and her right hand in front as they tightened the chains that were secured over rope that laid just beneath.

Darkling’s blood boiled. It is fear that brings rage, that hot burning anger that seeks to harm. Once again, he was afraid, not of her but for her.

Four more Fjerdans came from behind the trees, all covered in blood. “Fucking bitch”, one of them kicked her in the ribs and he couldn’t take anymore. He could kill them easily for what they’ve done – he’s killed every one of them he ran into in the past five days without even blinking, regardless if they were involved in her disappearance or not.

“Mister, I’ve seen scary and you don’t have his handsome smile.”

Licking his lips, the Darkling nearly smiles at her remark. There’s no possible way she means anyone else but him. Looking at his Grisha, he found them nearly all in position. They would attack in a minute, swiftly and deadly.

Yet in a moment of carelessness, he missed the Fjerdans realization they’re being watched. Too quickly, more of them appeared. The pitiful human managed to land a few consecutive blows to Darkling’s face before drawing a dagger.

Angry, dark eyes showed the Fjerdan that the Darkling’s brain is in a different mode, that he has switched gears from empathy he had for his wife to cold emotional indifference. Never once has he directed this mode in Y/N’s direction, yet it emerged when he sensed a threat to her life, letting out a part of him that was full on protective.

Grunting, the Darkling’s eyes narrowed at the human who dared to sink the blade into his heart. Despite his immortality, he could still hurt. The pain of a stab wound felt just as it would if here as fragile as the human before him.

But he’s not human at all.

Connecting his hands, the Darkling lifts his head as he summons the darkness that spills from every corner of the forest. “Foolish”, he sneers, “Attacking me in the dark?” The Darkling smirked, walking past the petrified Fjerdan, allowing his shadows to administer a thousand cuts for his transgression.

As he walked toward the middle of the circle, his shadows followed, aiding his Grisha in taking the rest of the Fjerdans so quickly that Y/N gasped.

Looking around in shock, she found Kirigan kneeling beside her.

“You have a knife”, she coughed into her shoulder, “A knife in your chest.”

“I promised”, he gasped for breath as he pulled the knife from his chest. “That I would protect you and I intend to keep the damn promise.”

On the brink of tears, her lips quivered before she laughed. “I thought you’d let them kill me.” Better to laugh than cry, she thought.

Frowning, he shook his head. “That would be too easy”, he waved David over who stood at the tree line, wide eyed. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it should be me.”

Even with tears blurring her vision, she giggled at his stupid remark. She had tried so hard to free herself.

It wasn’t the first time she had been captured by enemies, she knew what to do. But there were so many of them. Each time she freed herself, they would descend upon her. She managed to run, twice, each time they dragged her back kicking and screaming.

Despite his words, Y/N didn’t believe Kirigan would come for her. She had to be her own hero and she tried. In the end, she used everything at her disposal – everything.

Feeling the chains drop, Y/N glances at David, “Thank you.” The ropes were cut as well, but she didn’t move. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure if she could stand on her own and asking for help would wound her. Rubbing her bruised wrists, she reluctantly looked at Kirigan.

“Here”, Kirigan offered his hands. Truth be told, he wanted to carry her, but he knew her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Hissing, she forced herself up despite Kirigan’s offer. “I am perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

He’d have asked her again because she trembled when the wind blew. Her hair was matted with blood, her face red and not from blushing. He could see the damage they’ve done more clearly now as she bent to take a deep breath as if the simple act of breathing hurt her.

Staring at her, he nodded despite his better judgment. Her breathing was ragged, dragging her feet as she walked. She felt his eyes on her, it unnerved her. All she could do is hope her legs don’t give out, but it felt as if they would betray her any moment now.

“Go and make camp ahead”, he ordered his Grisha to speed up as he realized her stubbornness would kill her. Stepping before her, he wrapped an arm around her waist. There would be no asking her for permission this time, he’ll not allow her to deny his help. Hoisting her up in his arm, he held his breath as she cried out in pain.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

How could he not bring any healers? How could he have been so stupid?

Groaning, she sent him a stern glare yet found no anger in his. His eyes are like the ocean - they have the potential to destroy, yet when the waves reach the shore, they dissipate, leaving soft designs in the sand as a gentle reminder of its presence.

Leaning into his embrace, Y/N let out a gentle sigh of resignation. She’s been caught in the riptide and for once, she doesn’t want to fight it.

“I really thought I’d die”, she admits reluctantly.

Feeling him stiffen as he held her in his arms, Y/N frowned. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said that, or anything at all. This isn’t what they do, they don’t bare their hearts open.

“And when I faced death”, she continued regardless. Tilting her head to look up at him, she let out a shuddered exhale. A shy smile adorned her lips as their eyes shared a gaze so tender, an outsider would believe them to be in love.

“I thought how silly it is that I don’t know your first name.”

Snorting, Kirigan raised his eyebrows, “Really?”

“Yes”, she breathes out.

Looking at her now, the Darkling couldn’t believe this is his wife. The woman who infuriates him so often seemed so small, so fragile in his arms. Her gaze held remains of the horrors she was cast into and yet he never saw her as earnest before.

“I married you and I don’t even know your name.”

Licking his lips, he stops. Truth be told, no one actually knows his name. His name was long forgotten, a piece of his soul he had left behind in the fold. He promised himself he’d never utter it while he lives. He had promised he would never be that man again.

Unfortunately for him, he seems to be breaking his promises lately.

He promised her he’d protect her and he failed, just as he promised himself he’d never care for her and yet he does.

“Aleksander”, he mutters, still unsure if it’s the right decision. He placed one of his greatest secrets in the hands of a woman who’d see his world burn. He gave her power she never should possess and yet he’s not afraid. No one could make him fear anything after the ordeal he was put through since she decided to tear down his defenses.

Smiling softly, she closed her eyes. Resting her head on his shoulder she felt satisfied. It may be small, but finding out his name felt like a victory. She was born to play this game, it was her destiny. He is her destiny.

Waking up, she found herself wrapped in several blankets inside a tent. Grunting, she struggled to sit up on her own. It seemed to be dark still, but she had a blue light lantern lit inside. She may not know who left it there, but Y/N was thankful. Despite her fear of dark, she found it odd she did not fear Aleksander’s darkness at all.

When his shadows nearly encased her in the clearing, she didn’t fret or worry. She smiled.

As contradictory as it may seem, she wished he was with her now. Her entire body ached and still, she was more bothered by the empty spot beside her. Shaking her head, she bites her lower lip. Would it be so bad if she showed a sliver of vulnerability for a single night? Would making a small concession such as this truly take away her power?

Before she has a chance to change her mind, she’s already outside of her tent. The cold chilled her to the bone, biting every inch of exposed skin. Teeth chattering, she looked to the tent next to hers as it was the only one so close – seemingly intentional.

Trying to open it in the cold seemed impossible as her fingers shook violently. Feeling faint, she wondered why she couldn’t just stay in her own tent for the night. Surely it would have been a better idea than to admit she’s scared to be alone.

A warm liquid trickled down her lip and she nearly laughed at her own idiocy. The darkness and cold and her own injuries have all been fairly good reasons for her to just sleep and try to recover and she still tried to find her husband who showed so much disdain for her in the past.

Just as she was about to give up, a familiar head of hair peaked through.

Shivering, she wipes the liquid from under her nose with the back of her hand. Looking at it, she realizes it’s blood. There’s a slightly dazed look in her eyes, the blood loss suffered over the past days leaving its mark.

Looking up at Kirigan, her lips tremble and she sways slightly as her legs threaten to give out. “I didn’t know who else to go to”, she mumbles meekly before collapsing into Kirigan’s arms.

No…Aleksander’s arms.

Pulling her inside, he wrapped her in his arms as she shivered. Covering her with blankets didn’t seem to help either, but he had confidence it would soon enough.

She closed her eyes, clinging to him and selfishly, he smiled. It brought back memories of the night she climbed atop of him to warm up, he assumed. She didn’t know he was awake then, but she did now. She trusted him enough to seek warmth and as her shivers stopped slowly. That’s when the Darkling realized he would never deny her anything she asked of him.

“Fuck”, he whispers under his breath and her eyes open.

He looked at her in a haunted way, a shadow of a bruise marred his jaw and she reached up to touch it, her chest aching when he nuzzled into her palm. They have never been quite as tender with one another, never so intimate. It felt surprisingly nice.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” She asked, feeling so emotionally raw. Physical pain and lingering fear of impending death must have weakened her for a short while. Surely, she can allow herself a few moments of humanity?

He caught her wrist and pulled her hand down to press flat over his heart. “Here.”

Drawing a shuddered breath, her eyebrows knitted in worry. That’s where the knife was, she remembered with guilt. He could have died for her. Hating him requires too much energy; one she had little to spare. For the night, he can just be her husband and she will just be his wife. What harm can it do?

“Why did you come for me? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t fight for me?” Her confidence wavered as he sighed, brushing his fingers along her cheek. Not only did he come for her, but he murdered men for her.

Blinking slow, half in a daze as a low-grade fever began to grip her too, she had no more strength to deny how beautiful he is or how disarming his charm is. He may never love her, but she could…she could love him. If she ever fell for him, she knew she’d never be able to unlove him. She wouldn’t want to and that…that felt oddly comforting. For once, she was too tired to listen to her mind that preferred to set the world on fire rather than care for him.

As her eyes closed and her face relaxed, he stayed awake. He didn’t understand it, but he embraced the warm feeling spreading in his chest as she fell asleep.

“I’d burn this world for you.”

=============================

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06 @whatthefluffrichard

PART 7

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #shadown and bone #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #aleksander x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander kirigan #general kirigan x reader

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sigillaria-svt · 2 years

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SEVENTEEN Fantasy AU (Headcanons)

In a kingdom where guilds run in fierce competition with one another, there is one guild that stands out despite their small size: SEVENTEEN led by the infamous Choi Seungcheol. With their wide range of abilities and flexible combinations, they have accomplished many quests, pulling them up the ranks in a quiet but steady pace.

Disclaimer: Photos are not mine, but all other edits were made by me. I may or may not write this into a full written fic. Update: Here’s the masterlist for the SEVENTEEN x Reader series that I’m currently working on

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL Leader | Paladin | Defense-Attack

- Leads and protects the team from the frontlines - Guild leader who also works at maintaining the guild when they’re not on quests (he likes to complain about this a lot to Jeonghan) - Has weak buff abilities like magic shields and boosters - Best for attacking dark elements - Hot-headed and may shout at you in the middle of the battlefield - “Are you stupid? Why the hell did you step out when you knew that they were going to cast paralyzing spells?!” - He’ll apologize later on though because he loves his members too much - Has nearly died at least once for jumping in to save his members (this gives Joshua a headache tbh) - People from other guilds are scared of him because of his reputation in clearing mobs, but is actually a nice and goofy guy once you get to know him - First to bring out the drinks in the guild hall after every quest - Even those who don’t like to drink end up drinking because of how fussy he gets (and no he will not stop until you take at least one shot) - On rare occasions, you'll find him training in the field at the back. Otherwise, he's in his office dealing with paperwork he doesn't want to deal with

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YOON JEONGHAN Strategist | Necromancer | Support

- Lazy but pretty strong once he gets into it - Dark horse of the team - Leads strategy from the shadows - Sometimes you're not sure if he's on your side or not - Takes a 16-hour power nap once they get back to the guild hall. Do NOT wake him up during this time or you'll be the object of his pranks for days - Is friends with many spirits and ghosts. It sometimes freaks out his members when they see him talking to thin air in the middle of the night (he doesn’t find anything weird about this though) - No one can hide anything from him because his spirit friends are tattletales - "So I heard you've been looking over at Jun a lot lately. Mind telling me about it? Did you really think that I wouldn’t know?" - Is the last to go to sleep to make sure that everyone sleeps well. He helps out with Seungcheol’s insomnia from time to time whenever they run into each other in the middle of the night - Messes with Junhui's magical beasts from time to time just to cause a stir

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HONG JISOO (JOSHUA) Everyone’s Brother | Priest | Support

- Heals you but not before he laughs at you (unless the mission is pretty serious or you’re pretty hurt) - Support system of the entire team - Go-to person after every mission because of his healing powers. Hoshi may or may not have called him a walking first-aid kit at least once. - A pretty nice person 99% of the time until he gets caught up in Jeonghan's schemes. If so, you better get out of the room as soon as possible. - Makes sure that everyone is well-stocked in supplies before going out on missions - One of the people who volunteers to stay up when they need to camp out - "Oh, you're still awake? Do you need anything?" - Tends to stay quiet most of the time and is pretty good at hiding and sneaking around. Once he gets comfortable with you, he can maintain conversation for hours - Don’t let his title fool you; he looks pretty harmless but is actually kind of good at hand-to-hand combat - Actually, no, he can throw a grown man with enough effort if he wanted to - Please do not test the patience of this man

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WEN JUNHUI Heart of the Group | Summoner | Attack

- Friends with literally every living thing - Can talk with wild beasts to help get everyone through the forests unharmed - Serious and dependable when on missions, but is a giant manchild when they get back to the guildhall. If Junhui wants to play, you will not see the end of it until he runs out of energy - Likes to use knuckles as his secondary weapon although he doesn’t like fighting with his hands that much - Will pull random pranks and manages to tag along his beasts with him (unsurprisingly, this causes a bit of a mess in the guildhall) - Sometimes gets into fights with Jeonghan's spirits (and always loses) - Has a little cottage in the forest with a piano. He often stays there when he's upset or just wants to take a break. - It’s honestly so peaceful there; Minghao sometimes has his tea time in the cottage while Jun plays soft tunes on the piano. - "Hey, hey, are you awake? Do you want to visit the cottage with me?" - Will make random meals in the middle of the night. If you manage to catch up awake, he’ll cook something for you too. Just make sure not to excite him too much or else he’ll wake everyone up.

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KWON SOONYOUNG (HOSHI) Source of Energy | Dual Swordsman | Attack

- Main leader of attack, is always found at the frontlines and taking on the strongest enemy - Knows how to utilize the strength of his members to maximize attack output - Earned the nickname of "The Tiger of the Field" due to his strong aura and presence in the battlefield. Ever since he heard about it, he never stopped talking about how he was an actual tiger, thus starting his obsession with tigers. - His stare intimidates the opponents, and sometimes his own members - However, when they're back at the guildhall, he's the softest hamster little boy - Will sneak out in the middle of the night with Jun to eat snacks - Brings out the energy during celebrations, but is also the first one to get drunk and fall asleep. He always stars the party but never ends it. - Actually thinks about his members a lot even when he doesn’t openly admit it or show it - “You look worried, did anything happen? Oh come on, you know I can keep a secret! I promise I won’t tell anyone... or, try to tell anyone.” - Gets happy and giddy whenever they play games (and sometimes get outs of control) - Asks Jun to summon a tiger at least once a week. June eventually gives in after a few times of Hoshi asking him with a pout

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JEON WONWOO Crowd-controller | Wizard | Support-Attack

- Controls hoards of enemies using different runes and spells that can either paralyze or blind them - Is very quick on his feet in missions, and is usually the scout along with Chan - Blind without his glasses--and can barely see even with glasses on--but can sense what’s going on in the field with the help of magic and his sense of hearing - Once the mission is over, he heads straight to him room and doesn’t come out unless he has to eat or buy something - Really just a homebody, and everyone understands - Reads a lot of books, and has his own library in the guild house - He’s also good at making potions, so Seungcheol build him his own potion room in one of the towers (yes, this man is spoiled by their leader) - Likes to spend his time alone to build up energy for the next missions - Gets excited whenever you ask him a question on something he’s interested in, but tries not to let it show - “Oh, you’re looking for a book on local herbs? Well, I have a few of them on poisonous plants, medicinal plants, and even an illustrated book on what they all look like... well, I mean, if you want to check those out too.” - Is a bit picky on food, but Junhui cooks him whatever he wants in exchange for having a rune around his room to prevent Jeonghan’s ghosts and spirits from getting in

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LEE JIHOON Backbone of Success | Bard | Support

- Plays music both for a living and to keep everyone alive - His weapon/instruments of choice varies depending on the kind of mission they’re on, but he mostly uses his guitar because it’s easier to bring along - During missions, he is found at the center of the party to make sure that his powers can cover everyone’s needs - Is slightly intimidating for those outside the guild, but everyone inside adores them with everything they have - Will play any song for anyone if they ask nicely (except for Hoshi who often asks for random songs without a second thought) - Likes to stay silently at the side whenever the drinking parties start - Got drunk once, and only once, where he started telling everyone how much he loves them and how much of a home SEVENTEEN is for him (he likes to deny that this happened at all, but everyone else knows otherwise) - Lowkey takes care of everyone’s needs by handing them what they need without saying anything - You can sometimes find him playing instruments at the forest behind the guild hall, in a small clearing that Mingyu made for him - “Are you heading into the forest too? Do you want to come with me?” - Handles the paperwork whenever Seungcheol gets too tired to deal with it after a mission. The city officials have once came along to ask why the handwriting was inconsistent. - Has a collection of wooden figurines from the city market. Everyone secretly puts in a new figure once a month on his shelf. Woozi says he doesn’t notice anything different, but he does.

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XU MINGHAO (THE8) Forest Fairy | Lancer | Attack

- Is physically weak against attacks, but is agile enough to parry whatever comes his way - His experience with natural magic allows him to be more agile in crossing terrains and using the environment to his advantage - He likes to make his own clothes and customize his weapon. There is not a time in the battlefield where he does not look good. - Always has the cleanest clothes after a mission - Barely gets hurt in the battlefield, but always gets sick whenever they’re at the guild house (Joshua has stayed up to take care of him at least twice) - His room is farthest from Seokmin, Hoshi, and Seungkwan’s room because he needs his peace and quiet - Knows the forest like the back of his hand and sometimes hides things there that he doesn’t want anyone to find - He may or may not have met and befriended some of the fair folk - Likes to go into the forest for his tea time. Sometimes he goes to Jun’s cottage, sometimes to the nearly lake, and sometimes on a patch of moss if he feels like it. Like to experiment with tea as if they were potions. - Knows all of the tea - “I heard from someone who heard from someone that you’ve been sneaking out with a certain someone for the past few weeks. Don’t ask me why and how I know, just tell me what happens next.” - Also likes to stay at the side when the drinks come in, but starts to become one of the loudest member after two shots

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KIM MINGYU Jack-of-all-Trades | Greatswordsman | Attack-Defense

- Goes into the battlefield with a longsword nearly as tall as himself. The sword doubles as a shield during dire moments - Really the only one who can carry his sword (Seungcheol can physically carry it too, but he’s too lazy to admit that he can) - Goblins are his worst nightmare because they pop out of nowhere - Almost sliced someone’s limb off because he was clumsy during a mission - In-charge of carrying supplies along with Seokmin to the field - Also in charge of buying supplies that Joshua decided was in need of refilling - At the guild house, he does a lot of cooking and cleaning--all of which is easier for him because none of it is more difficult than carrying his sword around - Customizes Minghao’s weapons for him - Almost convinced Seungcheol to make a smithy for them, but decided that there wasn’t space to make it - His room is filled with a lot of stuff like armour, swords, spare metal, and somehow some cooking ware that couldn’t fit in the kitchen - Was given a room in the first floor because a giant sword and heavy armor falling from the stairs was not a scene Seungcheol wanted to get into - Top 1 frequent visitor to Joshua’s room because he gets into small accidents at least once a day - Even though he’s clumsy, he’s always honest and earnest so everyone loves him anyway - Likes to go into little adventures, but go with him at your own risk - “I’m going to go over to the snowy peaks today. If anyone wants to come with me, hurry up and pack whatever you can!” - Ends up taking care of whoever manages to go along with him. - Gets sent into the city with Seungcheol whenever they have to argue or bargain with city officials because they know that they have a soft spot for Mingyu (mainly because he’s handsome, and partly because he runs errands for them sometimes) - Made the guild insignia with the help of everyone’s input

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LEE SEOKMIN (DK) Secret Weapon | Archer | Attack

- Stays at the back of the group where he can safely aim at enemies without the fear of getting attacked or surprised - In his entire career, he has missed only twice. On both occasions, it was due to his injured arm that got hit by an enemy’s arrow - The enemy never sees him coming--he can fire an accurate shot so long as the enemy is in sight - At the guild house though, he is far from the intimidating persona he puts on during missions. He doesn’t get fazed by a goblin running to him at full speed, but screams at the top of his lungs when one of his members try to scare him. - Is always the first to get up to cook breakfast for everybody, including Jun’s summoned beasts if they happen to be there - His voice is loud enough to reach Jeonghan who lives at the topmost floor of the tower - Helps out with the guild paperwork from time to time, but only to deliver and receive papers. He tried to work on the papers once, but ended up messing up nearly 50 pages worth of work (Jeonghan managed to convince Seungcheol not to get too angry) - Practices like crazy to keep his skills from rusting, even during days when he’s supposed to rest. He sets up multiple practice targets in the forest with the help of Mingyu (who honestly can’t say no to his members) - Hoshi managed to pull him into shooting an arrow at Seungkwan’s food when he was eating when he wasn’t supposed to be eating - Despite his kill-streak, he wouldn’t hurt a fly when he’s at home - This guy is literal sunshine please protect him - Gets happy when you invite him to do things with you - “You want me to come with you to the lake and catch fish? Well, I’m not good at it, but why not! We can have fish for dinner later with our catch. Wait, does shooting arrows at fish count?” - Likes to visit Jun’s cottage with food that he made - Some of Jun’s beasts like him more than Jun

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BOO SEUNGKWAN Opportunist | Elementalist | Attack-Support

- Primarily gets dispatched into smaller missions with Vernon and Chan - Is in good control of both water and earth. Fire and air are less familiar to him because of how hard they are to grasp compared to the other two. - Has a staff as his weapon of choice - Is very quick to notice small changes or shifts in the atmosphere. If he tries hard enough, he can sense different things through the soil but not as well as Wonwoo - Thinks of genius solutions on the spot - Once got his entire team out of a cave mission that they got lost in - At the guild house, he likes to keep things in check (Hoshi sometimes calls him the landlady, which Seungkwan does not like) - Likes to drip water down someone’s back if they annoy him enough - His room is assigned to the farthest wing along with Seokmin and Hoshi so that noise could “stay in one place” according to Jihoon - This doesn’t stop them from making noise in the common room, though - The lake in the middle of the forest is his favorite place because he gets to practice his skills without worrying if he’ll accidentally break a wall or not - Yes, he broke a wall when he was still practicing his skills back at his hometown - Goes to the boring guild conferences that Seungcheol doesn’t bother going to, and ends up making friends with at least two people from each guild that attended - Is the best at giving advice, especially to other magicians in the guild - “Well if you want to get your magic out you’re going to have to do more studying. What do you mean it’s boring? You can shoot out as many fireballs as you like, but that’s not going to get you anywhere. Well why ask me if you’re not going to listen?!” - He can get impatient sometimes though

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CHWE HANSOL (VERNON) Steady Fortress | Shieldbearer | Defense

- Carries a shield that is nearly as large as himself, but is able to steadily walk though the battlefield like its nothing - Takes on the front of the party along with Seungcheol to protect the team - Moves the fastest when he is in a unit with Seungkwan and Chan - Never panics in the field even if he’s bruised and wounded all over - Is good enough with hand-to-hand combat to wrestle out anyone or anything that may cling to him or his shield when fighting - Sometimes forgets the flow of the mission, but thankfully has Seungkwan and Jihoon to remind him every time - Also has his room at the first floor of the guild hall because of his collection of oversized shields and because it would be too difficult to call for him if he was upstairs - Likes to go on walks by himself. At this point, none of the members get shocked if he disappears one afternoon and comes back the next day - Chan sometimes comes with him though - Is familiar with all the shops and restaurants in the city (yes even the ones that sell weird food like mermaid meat that somehow seem borderline illegal) - Also very good friends with Jun’s beasts - His practice regime is quite harsh in order for him to develop endurance. Often has Mingyu and Seokmin as his practice buddy. These sessions sometimes end up with a trip to Joshua’s room. - “No, for real man, come and hit me. Yeah of course it’s going to hurt, but that’s the point? I’ll let you know if it stings more than I expect.” - Seungcheol practiced with him once, and got scolded by Joshua for going too far so he doesn’t do it anymore. He sometimes watches them spar to make sure that no one gets too hurt. - Has accidentally banged his head on his shields at least thrice - Also another favorite of the female city officials, so Seungcheol tags him along even though he doesn’t really pay attention to anything that they talk about

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LEE CHAN (DINO) Feisty Youngest | Rogue | Attack

- Is the first to go into the battlefield and the last one to get out - Always makes sure that no one gets left behind - The best at hand-to-hand combat and can wrestle with the older members even if they’re larger than him - Specializes in self-defense and stealth attacks, making him ideal for scouting an area before any of his members enter the field - Always manages to insert a witty (sometimes slightly insulting but nevertheless playful) remark even in the middle of battle - “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we didn’t almost die the last time you said that there were two enraged dragons at the other side of the dungeon door. But you know, whatever helps you sleep at night.” - Mostly follows the older members in rapid decision-making but sometimes chimes in with his own suggestions - At the guild house though, he ends up becoming the main target for little errands, mainly because he rarely says no - Sometimes sleeps in another member’s room with them because he can’t sleep when he’s alone in the room - Tried to befriend Jun’s beasts, but it doesn’t really work out that well for him unlike Seokmin - Almost got bitten once or twice (or thrice) - I am convinced that this man can do steady parkour and climbs the tower up to Jeonghan’s room every once in a while. May also climb trees in the forest if he feels like it. - Despite being energetic in the day, he likes to have long one-on-one conversations over a glass of alcohol during the night. - Seungkwan still won’t let him live down the time when he got drunk and bawled his eyes out because the spoon was “not in the right direction”

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emperor-palpaminty · 3 years

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Hey! I love your tech writing!! Can I request a cute fluff where reader is an oblivious Jedi and tech is an awkward boi in love? Bonus points if the rest of the batch know exactly what's going on and low-key tease him

TEEEEECH, i love whipped tech and i love forbidden pining for jedi, send help

fluffy and pining and ooooh, i love

Neurons

___

Neurons fired chemicals across synapses in the brain faster than light, faster than human comprehension. And yet Tech’s neurons seemed to work in reverse when the General smiled like that.

She leaned out of the gunship, looking down, then turned back to look at him and his brothers. The general has not worked with them for a long time- a few months. But it was enough time for his body to short circuit when she was around him. “Okay, boys!” She yelled. “We know the plan?”

“Sir, yes sir!” The boys replied, leaning closer to the edge. Tech's lips moved, but he was unsure if he said those words- his throat was dry.

Her eyes landed on him and she offered him a smile- a little smile that absolutely made his heart fidget- and she simply stepped backwards, falling out of the gunship, allowing the gravity of the planet to yank her down.

Wrecker jumped first, whooping, and Tech followed him, tugging the visor of his helmet down over his goggles. He planted his hands by his side and dove down, the shape of the Jedi just below, racketeering for the planet's surface, flipping, before landing heavily, feet first, in the middle of the droids, saber summoned into her hands and she activated it.

Dramatic and a show off, yes. But she was still humble, smooth, confident. Soft to rough edges, fluid as water to the sturdy soldiers. Tech turned, activating his jetpack, yanking out his blasters and shooting towards the droids as the Jedi danced between the blaster fire, moving rapidly, saber deflecting otherwise fatal fire from her Batch.

Tech ducked around her, without a word, and fired a round. She moved with him, though feet apart, in their defensive sort of waltz. And again, though apart, Tech could sense her, and she moved him, in him and in tandem, as if they were tethered on some string. A nudge and Tech would pull, a tug and she would push. The only thing that kept him steady in moments like this were his extensive years of battle training and experience in other moments, where he had to put his reflexes and his head in front of his heart.

She led them to victory, every time, and he was right behind her.

___

“Hey, Tech.” Hunter leaned back on the wall of the facility they had just won over, examining his bandanna splayed in his hands. Tech only hummed in thanks, pressing the cooling pack to the welt of purple on his cheek, already swelling up.

Crosshair chortled from his position, leaning on the wall. He was wrapping his hands, the broken teeth of his knuckle swollen and purpled and battered. "He always does good with the General- except for off the battlefield." He grabbed the end of the bandage in his moth and tightened it. His eyes darted to Tech, smirking past the bandage. A reaction- that was what he wanted.

"I haven't the foggiest idea what you mean." Tech scoffed. He leaned back, applying more pressure to the cold pack.

"Come on, Tech," Wrecker laughed in his boisterous way. Fantastic, he was in on it too. He nudged his bespectacled brother. "We know how ya feel!"

Tech's brain shrugged in his skull, skidding to a halt. "You... Do?"

The Sargent betrayed him with a chuckle. "Yeah. You and her work so well together in battles, and he see how smart you talk when she's around."

The back of Tech's neck felt hot. Really hot. He tried to fight it off, lest his face follow and blotch like a forest aflame. "I always talk smart." The cold pack stung his skin.

Wrecker's huge hands smacked Tech's back with the same cackle from earlier. "Not around her!"

Ah. So Hunter was being sarcastic.

Tech managed a half snarl- it was all his partially working brain could manage at the moment. He dropped the pack on the table and stalked out, face warm as he made a beeline for the door. "A clone falling for a Jedi is strictly taboo."

"Our whole exsistance is Taboo." Crosshair huffed.

Wrecker's laughter as muffled as Tech stalked out, the door sliding shut behind him, and he tried to shut the feeling that they were correct in there, too.

He shouldn't fall for the jetti- and yet he did. The only thing that made his neurons fire back up was him forcing them to jump-start as he thought of excuses, solutions, a name and a label for his most wonderful of problems.

His brain stuttered out one word that made Tech's feet stop in its tracks- love.

#tech #bad batch tech #bad batch tech x reader #star wars reader insert #tech x reader #tech x you #bad batch reader insert #minty writes #clone force 99 reader insert

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