This Is Lovely - Blog Posts

their little secret

Commission for @nureyev-steel-institute featuring their OC Elijah! Thank you so much for the support!

"Well, I was no stranger to losing blood but usually I wasn’t asked to give it up quite so nicely. Sure, the guy was still brusque in his own highfalutin way, but I’d seen the look on the young fellas face — and I knew a thing or two about hunger myself — so it seemed only fair to help the guy out, (even if the process made me feel kinda woozy)....”

— Detective Noir / Vampire AU (part 2)

Don't try and test me.

✨🌙 ART LOG -> @404ama

Lyrics: The girl I used to be – Fishy Bishie

Rama & Sita for the 10 things!

This wound up being centered more around the Ramayana than fgo. Hope you like it!

Blood

It was not uncommon to spy Rama nursing some small hurt or wound; the first time he noticed the bright crimson on Sita’s feet and ankles he insisted upon carrying her the rest of the way.

Denial

He wept for hours, days even; begging the earth to open up and accept him as well.

Fan/Fandom

Though a master of many weapons himself, Rama would always be entranced by his wife’s focus as she drew back the string of her bow.

First/Last

Their love was the standard for the ages; no one was truly prepared for the sorrow which followed.

Illusion

Sita kept her gaze on the horizon and stubbornly ignored Ravana’s sweet words of poison; no matter what guise he took the demon could never hope to emulate her husband’s bearing.

Pastiche

There could be no question of who her children’s father was; both were lotus-eyed and the very image of the man their mother loved.

Present

“There is no need to reminisce about our days in the palace, we have each other in the here and now.”

Rescue

The feeling of her arms kept him from collapsing on the spot; every moment of hardship and bloodshed nothing compared to the joy of holding Sita once more.

Telepathy

In the garden, under the moonlight, they needed no words to speak as Rama submerged himself among the lotuses to watch Sita hunt for him.

Time Travel

She found him on the twelfth day of the fourth month, covered in leaves and dust from his tumble down the hill; teasing him that he’d trespassed onto her mother’s property about half a mile back.

🎆🎆🎆🎆

Friday Kiss Tag

Thank you for the tag @the-golden-comet

Here is a snippet from The General's Bride

---

The quiet of the night settled over the Jade Blossom Pavilion, its usual stillness interrupted only by the faint flicker of lanterns swaying in the breeze. Jian sat by the window, gazing out at the moonlit garden, the light casting delicate patterns on his veil.

Luo Xingchen approached silently, his footsteps soft against the polished wood. "You’ve been up too long," he said, his voice low, almost reverent.

Jian didn’t turn. "The moon is too beautiful to waste behind closed eyes."

Xingchen stepped closer, his presence grounding. "And yet you hide your face from it."

Jian chuckled softly, his fingers grazing the edge of his veil. "Perhaps the moon isn’t the only thing worth hiding from."

The weight of Xingchen’s gaze pressed against his back, protective but unyielding. “Do you think me a wolf, waiting to pounce? Or the moon itself, casting light where it is not welcome?”

Jian’s voice softened, his words gentle. “You are neither. You are the warrior who guards me from both.”

Xingchen’s hand moved, hesitating briefly before lifting the edge of Jian’s veil. “And who guards you from me?”

Jian met his eyes, his expression unreadable but unafraid. “I don’t need protection from you, Xingchen.”

The veil slipped away, fluttering to the floor like a ribbon freed. Jian’s face, illuminated by the moonlight, was a sight Xingchen had not allowed himself to imagine fully. For a moment, neither spoke, the unspoken tension between them filling the silence.

Xingchen cupped Jian’s cheek gently, his thumb brushing over the smooth curve of his jaw. “You are the most dangerous person in this palace,” he murmured, his tone almost playful. “Do you know that?”

Jian’s lips parted slightly, a quiet inhale, before he responded. “And you are the only one foolish enough to stand so close to me.”

Xingchen leaned in, the space between them vanishing in a heartbeat. Their lips met in a kiss that began slow, tentative, as though testing the fragile boundaries of their world. But it deepened quickly, the weight of unspoken truths and unshed fears driving them closer. Jian’s hands clutched the fabric of Xingchen’s robe, grounding himself as the kiss consumed them both.

When they finally pulled away, breathless but unbroken, Xingchen rested his forehead against Jian’s, his voice low. “The moon can wait. Tonight, the stars are ours.”

---

I'll tag @finickyfelix @willtheweaver @leahnardo-da-veggie @illarian-rambling @winglesswriter @paeliae-occasionally @thecomfywriter @roarintheheavens @drchenquill @wyked-ao3 @the-inkwell-variable @corinneglass @seastarblue @frostedlemonwriter @vesanal

Someone you used to know.

Concept:

an AU where after Danny's parents find out the truth about his biology, they turn their weapons against him; affectively leaving him no choice but to run away. There was no longer a 'Daniel James Fenton'; a child long dead after he was killed via electrocution. He cuts contact with everyone— and I mean everyone; only the god of time knows where he is. He turns to Gotham to start a new life there; under the guise of 'Danyal Nightingale', a homeless kid in crime alley, under the protection of the sentient city herself.

Enter: Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne was quite the enigma to him. The teen basically knew everything about self defense, but Bruce is rich rich; Danny can't really understand why he would need to be athletic as shit for "self defense" when he's pretty sure he could've just hire mercenary level bodyguards. But he doesn't pry on it too much; because Danny understands that somethings are better to not poke around at.

They both grew up. Danny still couldn't understand Bruce. They grew closer, yes; but Bruce would literally... disappear. Like— for long amounts of time. He would ask Alfred for his whereabouts, but the butler simply shook his head, insisting that Bruce would be fine.

And he was right, technically.

The (now pretty grown) man would always come back, even if he was battered and bruised. He would wave off his best friend's worries with "I'm fine"s and "stop worrying"s that just fueled his distaste about Bruce leaving.

And then Bruce left, again.

While he was slightly annoyed by Bruce's constant disappearance, he can't help but just sigh in resignation at the hard headed billionaire. Bruce will come back.... eventually, at least.

He was right; Bruce did come back.

But he didn't.

He couldn't.

He was trapped inside a neverending nightmare.

Because they found him.

Years pass by and his whole body felt numb, numb, numb. He's always either strapped inside a straight jacket in an empty room or torn open like a frog in biology class, on top of a surgery table. He doesn't remember how to speak, what he sounded like, what food tasted like— how it felt to move freely. Because all he could do over the past years (decade?) Is silently take the torture if simply existing.

On a good day, they would let him dream. He dreamt of talking, hyperfixating about stars and Greek mythology— he dreamt of playing tag and cooking messily in a kitchen; all with a boy and older man whose face he doesn't remember. On those days his life felt a little more bearable; like it gives him the motivation to just exist.

"... there's no way you're named after a bird."

"....ne. What's yours?"

"Danny is a nice name."

"Hey, wh— HEY! Get down from there!"

"Don't be such a worrywart. I'll see you soon, Danny."

".....Danny"

".....Danny!"

"Danny....?"

His dazed eyes weakly focused on the familiar voice calling his name; the sight of a dark figure by the lab door greets his line of sight.

He's strapped on the table; chest still wide open as the figure rushes over him. He could hear their heart rattling inside their ribcage and their heaving breaths.

....no. this is all just a dream.

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

Speak Now

Word Count: 6.3k Pairing: A section for each of our boys Warnings: fluff and god I did our boys well Summary: As always happens before the Batch left after a visit, you find yourself wishing they didn't have to go. You've grown too attached to them, one in particular. You just didn't realize he'd grown just as attached. He should really say something.

The night was over. Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, Tech, and Echo were scattered throughout your apartment resting. It felt good to see them all relaxed enough to sleep somewhere other than the Marauder or their barracks. It felt even better knowing you were a safe space for them.

You’d avoided the question of how long they’d be around this time - as if not asking would extend their answer. Missing them and wishing they wouldn’t leave weighed on you. You knew it was selfish.

They were doing something so important for the Galaxy. The Republic depended on them. Other people’s lives depended on them.

But you wanted them too and some fragment of you needed them too. How could anyone meet them and not become addicted to their presence?

Every time they came back to you, you inevitably indulged yourself in a dream of them tossing aside their duties for a civilian life. Even if it wasn’t for you, you’d still occupy a slice of their time. Wouldn’t you?

One of the clones in particular stood out to you. You vied for extra time alone with him amongst the already limited timeframes you were granted. 

Stuck in a daydream of anxiety you stood on your balcony, arms crossed and lost in the lights of the city beyond.

Little did you know you weren’t the only one with a fantasy of a different life - one with you in it.

 The Kaminoans drilled discipline into the clones. Not much of anything served as a temptation for them. Men like Cut were aberrations of their nature, but so were all of the men of Clone Force 99. 

The same man you dreamt of even tasted Cut’s temptation. Seeing you with someone else, seeing someone else by your side, made him realize that he’d like to be the one to stand by your side. And if he couldn’t do that he at least wanted you to know he wished he could be.

WRECKER

When you offered your bed to Wrecker, having Crosshair smashed up against him wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. It wasn’t that he and his brothers hadn’t slept dog-piled together plenty of times, it just seemed natural that sleeping in your bed might come with sleeping with you. 

Something he hadn’t realized he wanted until the idea was presented to him. 

Just like the idea of sleeping beside you, he’d never had much reason to think about your romantic life. Finding out you’d been seeing someone, seeing another man holding you, catapulted the concept into fruition. 

The said man quickly became an ex that night, but it made Wrecker wonder what it’d be like to be the one by your side. To be the one making you smile every day and keeping you warm at night.

Where Crosshair fell asleep almost instantly, Wrecker lay awake wondering where you were going to sleep and what you were going to do when they weren't with you. When he wasn’t with you.

Taking Crosshair’s elbow to the ribs was the last push Wrecker needed to roll out of your bed. Wrecker tiptoed around the rest of his squad scattered about your apartment in search of you.

A cool breeze chilled the skin of his exposed chest and led him to your balcony where you stood facing the city. You were lost in thought and unaware of his presence. Seizing the opportunity, Wrecker slowly padded over to you. 

He got within a step of you and slowly extended his arms out around you. Just for a moment, though, he appreciated how lucky he was to be this close with you. To be able to even think of touching you with no recourse. Then that moment was over and he snatched you up in his arms. 

You barely suppressed a yelp as he hauled your feet into the air. Your giggling echoed through his chest. You didn’t realize he was shirtless until he put you back on solid ground and you twisted around in his arms.

The two of you stood like that, loosely in each other's arms, until your giggles quieted and only the city sounds filtered between you.

Despite your best effort at modesty, your eyes fell to the eye level pec muscles. You’d rarely seen Wrecker out of uniform, let alone half naked. A sight that made you suddenly very thirsty. His muscles flexed, breaking your focus and earning a laugh from Wrecker. 

“Like what you see?” He chuckled as quietly as he could, barely mindful of his brothers inside.

Trying to look as uninterested as possible, you rolled your eyes and stepped back enough for his hands to slip off of your waist. “Show-off,” you mumbled playfully.

You peaked around him, looking for who else was up. “They’re all asleep.” Wrecker answered the obvious question. “I-I…” He fumbled around the reason he was the only one there, “I couldn’t sleep.”

Your face heated as you realized it would just be the two of you. Getting any of Batchers alone was rare given their circumstances. While you’d attempted to before, you’d never managed to get Wrecker to yourself. 

Ignoring how giddy the idea made you, you were quick to worry after why he couldn’t sleep. “Is it the bed?” You nervously asked.

Wrecker blew a raspberry and waved you off, “Your bed is fine.” When you kept staring up at him, silently waiting for further explanation, he tried to casually add, “Just couldn’t stop thinking is all.”

Relieved, you smiled and half-heartedly said, “Oh yeah? A credit for your thoughts.”

His mouth opened, but no words came out. The two of you blinked at one another, both a little caught off by the failed attempt. Wrecker tried again, yet still he came up with nothing. 

Wrecker had never been a good liar to begin with and each lie he conjured sounded obvious. So he braced himself for the truth.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Me?” Your voice cracked with surprise.

Instantly regretting his decision, Wrecker stepped back, waving his hands anxiously. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

You grabbed his wands, stilling him and shutting him up. “You were thinking about me?” You asked, quieter this time.

Wrecker caved at your touch. Weakly smiling, he sighed and admitted, “Yeah, I think about you a lot.”

Surprise overtook you, but that didn’t stop a little smile from bubbling up. Every negative, anxious thought of tomorrow keeping you awake disappeared leaving only a stutter of half words to slip from you. 

Unable to compose your satisfaction with the news, you cleared your throat and replied simply, “Is that so?”

Your reaction widened his smile. Wrecker wasn’t sure what he expected, other than rejection, but it wasn’t bashfulness. Spurred on by the flush coming to your face, he took a step and a chance.

 He let out a soft laugh,“And I think I like you.” Lacing your fingers through his, he lifted one of your hands to his mouth. “That okay with you?”

His lips were hot on the back of your hand. Breathlessly you reassured him, “Of course,” With your free hand you palmed his cheek. Your earlier worry did begin to resurface. “I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

Wrecker’s chest squeezed. He didn’t want to either. He’d rather stay by your side and spend every night with you like this. It wasn’t possible yet, but at least for a night he could.

With hope in his voice, Wrecker asked, “Would you consider coming back to bed with me?”

If it had been anyone else, you might think they were making a pass at you. Between the light pull of Wrecker’s brows and him being, well, Wrecker, the thought barely occurred to you. Not to mention, it did sound much nicer than worrying yourself to exhaustion on the balcony.

So you followed Wrecker back and he slid into your bed, pushing Crosshair back with his hip. Flat on his back, Wrecker extended his arm out to invite you in next to him. Your eyes flit between Wrecker and Crosshair who was now adjusting himself around his brother.

Careful not to disturb the sniper, you gently tucked in next to Wrecker only for him to pull you in tight. He wiggled in place, nestling into an optimally cozy position, before sleepily mumbling to you, “You owe me a credit.”

You didn’t dare speak for fear of waking Crosshair, but you didn’t have to worry long. Crosshair was the one to respond from his side of Wrecker. “Shut it, Wrecker.” He cracked an eye open to lock onto you, “And not a word of this to anyone.”

CROSSHAIR

Crosshair opened his eyes, blinking back into reality tucked in your bed next to Wrecker. He sat up on his elbow, taking a few moments to remember where he was.

He’d fallen asleep so quickly, Crosshair barely remembered lying down. Not that he was surprised. He was at ease in your home, it was one of your effects on him. The other being irrationality. You made him irrational and, at times, distracted. It was the only way he could describe it. 

He cared for little beyond his squad and his missions, but an irrational side of him did wander into thoughts of you between missions. Visiting you settled Crosshair into just another routine - another fact of his life in the GAR. He didn’t care for post mission accolades, but seeing you was an indulgence he never fussed about.

Crosshair had been content to spend the rest of his career oscillating between crushing clankers and spending downtime with you and his brothers. That complacency was shot to shit when the Batch surprised you with a visit and you surprised them with a newly acquired boyfriend.

The memory of seeing that slimebucket with his hands around you heated Crosshair as fast as when he first laid eyes on him.

Fully aware he needed to cool off before he could even think of falling back asleep, Crosshair left bed to step outside. He’d passed the rest of his squad in a beeline for the still open balcony door. Something he was noting to nag you about when you came into his sights, leaning your forearms against the balcony railing and watching the city lights.

Crosshair froze for a moment, wondering how he missed the fact that you weren’t inside. Irrational and distracted, he thought to himself.

“It’s funny.” You said, seemingly out of nowhere. Crosshair half expected you to be mid conversation on a comm until you peaked back over your shoulder at him.

He walked over to you, pulling up beside you to mirror your position against the balcony. “What’s that?” Crosshair drawled.

Hiding your smile in your shoulder you shook your head and looked back out over the city. “I can always feel when you’re looking at me.”

Pushing himself to full height with a scoff, Crosshair crossed his arms and leaned back against the railing. “Is that an enhanced trait?”

You kept your eyes forward as you smiled and shook your head, as if surprising even yourself. “No enhancements.” You paused, a half thought crossing your mind before you winking in his direction. “Just your effect on me.”

The wink he expected, you were always playful and light. Your words though, short and haphazardly spoken, took Crosshair off guard. They sounded too familiar. He couldn’t tell if you were being serious.

Pinning you with a seriousness that dampened your smile, Crosshair said in a low voice, “Was that his effect?”

The mention of your ex instantly drained you. Rocking back on your feet, you dropped your gaze to the ground for a few beats, really considering how you wanted to play this out. You didn’t want to waste your energy or your time with Crosshair on that prod. 

On a deep breath you stood to your full height and faced him with a tired smile. “I don’t wanna talk about him, Cross.”

His nickname on your tongue almost softened him enough to avoid the subject, but he still pressed you. Using the weight of his hip, Crosshair moved away from the railing in defiance.

“Why don’t you?” There was a challenge in his voice he rarely aimed your way. A shred of cruel teasing bit through his words, “Embarrassed?”

“No.” The word left no room for discussion. You met his challenge with your own, countering, “Why do you want to talk about him?”

Crosshair didn’t answer immediately. That venom of his gone all at once. He held your gaze, suddenly unsure ‘why’ himself. The thought of your ex wasn’t a pleasant one, but a persistent one nonetheless.

When more than a few seconds passed and only silence and staring remained, you squinted briefly before an idea struck you.

A tight lipped grin sprouted over you. Crosshair’s eyes fell to your lips, finding nothing but suspicion in your new look. Meeting your eyes once more he dreaded to ask, “What?”

Your mouth squirmed in a desperate attempt to suppress your growing amusement. You gave him an amused once-over, your gaze trailing from his feet to his head as you stepped in on him. You were close enough now that one wrong sway would put your chest against him.

Crosshair didn’t back down. He was on edge, unsure of what suddenly changed, but he didn’t back off. “What?” He asked, insisting with more annoyance.

“Are you jealous?”

Jealousy was not in his vernacular let alone his nature. Snorting at the very notion, Crosshair opened his mouth to object. Nothing came out. 

Because maybe he wasn’t jealous, but he certainly was possessive. Combined with the irrational streak you gave him, it certainly did look like jealousy.

Having let you cherish the moment for far too long, Crosshair tilted his head sideways to return your once-over before leaning in on you. Clearly entertained, he drawled, “And what if I am?”

You were in each other’s breathing space. One tempting sway and you could taste him. Even after a shower he still smelled like mint and gun oil. Holding your resolve together with nothing but string, you asked in a less than steady voice, “Are you?”

The two of you locked into another silent showdown. On a whim of concession, Crosshair eased off of you. You thought he was going to redirect or bite back but instead he muttered, “Get over it already.”

You stifled a gasp, caught somewhere between laughter and shock. “You’re actually-”

He very nearly regretted his version of admitting his feelings. Rolling his eyes, Crosshair moved around you with your delighted look trailing him. He came to your back and guided you forward with his hands at your elbows.

You gently resisted, craning your neck back to beam up at him, “Where are we going?”

Crosshair couldn’t decide if this was quickly becoming annoying or you were looking more cute with every second your smile grew.

“Bed,” He casually said as he prompted you forward again. 

Your head snapped forward and you quiet until you got to your bed. The one Crosshair was also sharing with Wrecker.

Crosshair said nothing as he got in under the duvet, scooted back into his brother and pulled the covers back when there was enough room for you. You tried not to think about it too much as you crawled in next to Crosshair.

He pulled the covers back up over as he settled in behind you. You both fell silent, allowing the warmth of the moment to sink in.

A low, sleepy groan emanated from behind Crosshair that was followed by Wrecker’s thick arm slinging over the two of you. You went stock still, not sure what to make of the situation.

You opened your mouth to comment but Crosshair cut you short by pulling you in and mumbling, “Think carefully about what you’re going to say.”

You decided to leave it be.

ECHO

Laid back comfortably, eyes shut and good arm resting on his stomach, Echo dozed off while listening to Hunter and Tech chatter. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep until he was rolling onto his side and his chair tilted farther back. The shift in balance jolted him straight into a state of alarm and confusion. 

After a few slow breaths, Echo looked around and his brothers were now fast asleep with Hunter taking the couch and Tech on the floor. He leaned over the arm of the chair to see down the hallway. It seemed Wrecker and Crosshair were out too.

He was halfway to assuming you’d slept somewhere in your room when he heard the muffled sounds of the city. Figuring you’d left a window open, Echo got up to investigate. You’d gone through the trouble of putting him and his squad up for the night, the least he could do was shut a window for you.

Echo only hoped you felt as cared for as he did. So it was frustrating, to say the least, for Echo to meet the ungrateful scumslug who called himself your boyfriend. He didn’t come across as the brightest man in the Galaxy and insulting you in front of five trained troopers proved that.  His squadmates didn’t pick up on him calling you a ‘barracks bunny,’ but the slight wasn’t lost on Echo. All of his training to remain logical under pressure vanished when he laid your ex flat.

For the rest of the night, Echo circled back to the thought of what happened to you when they left. You weren’t defenseless, but you were alone. That bothered him more than anything.

Instead of an open window, Echo found you alone on the balcony and could only guess how long you’d been out there. Hoping to side step spooking you, Echo softly called out to you from the doorway.

He didn’t entirely succeed in not startling you. It hardly seemed to matter by the smile you turned on him. You put your back to the city and playfully gestured at him, “And why aren’t you asleep?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Echo chuckled. He enjoyed laughing so easily with you. “What are you doing awake?” He asked as he approached.

You debated being honest about the selfish thoughts keeping you up, instead choosing to shrug it off with a half truth, “Couldn’t get settled is all. You?”

Glancing back inside the house, Echo rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I think that chair of yours might have it out for me.”

Instantly, you could see him falling back. “Oh no!” Resting a hand apologetically on your chest, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t warn you.”

Echo scoffed playfully, dismissively gesturing his scomp arm, “Takes more than a chair to take down this trooper.” His features softened the longer he looked at you. The city lights brightened you beyond just your smile. Seeing you safe and smiling satisfied a male side of him.

A chill ran through you and, without thought, Echo came to your side to put his arm around you. Rubbing some warmth into your arm, he suggested, “Why don’t we get you inside?”

You didn’t budge. Looking up at Echo, your smile dimmed as you considered him. He saw a sort of skepticism flicker through you. Unbeknownst to him, you were searching those hazel eyes for an ounce of deceit, or even pity, and only tender honesty stared back at you.

Echo saw your typical confidence wane when your gaze dropped. You looked guilty, but of what was lost on him. His brows pulled together in question. Clones were trained from creation to withstand and divvy interrogations. Gently extracting information not so much.

Treading carefully, Echo gently probed, “What is it?”

Shaking your head, your features pinched and you asked, "Why did you go so far for me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Echo countered instantly, not needing a single second to answer. He adjusted his position slightly, reeling back for a better view of your face. “I won’t let someone talk like that to you.”

The answer didn’t satisfy you. As nice as the sentiment was, its inevitably fleeting nature tarnished the moment. Your lips tightened to a thin line. Still not meeting his eyes, you sounded bitter saying, “You can’t always be here, Echo.” 

The truth hurt and it fed the unease eating away at him. He knew what it was like to be alone and he did everything he could to never be that way.

Steadying you by your shoulders, Echo bent down into your line of sight. Exhaling, he admitted, “You’re right and I wish I could be.” Your eyes shot up as he continued, “Just let me do what I can for now.”

He stood to full height, your eyes rising with him. You blinked up at him, repeating back to yourself what he’d said. There was a chance you were reading too much into it, but his words were enough to give you the courage to say, “I don’t want you to leave.”

Echo’s eyes widened, before warming again. “Hopefully a day will come when I won’t have to.”

There was nothing to hide your blatant hope in asking, “Do you mean that?” 

Pivoting to your side, Echo slid his arm back around you. Echo cocked his head back, brandishing a roguish grin as he said, “I’ve never meant anything more. Now let’s get inside already.” On the way in, his hand slipped to your waist and he muttered under his breath, “Let’s just hope that chair can handle two.”

Tech and Hunter were still fast asleep when you made it inside. You followed him to the recliner, watching him carefully position himself. Barely keeping the furniture balanced, Echo twisted around and made enough room for you to fit in. It took you squirming over his legs and nestling into the crook between him and the chair to get situated.

The two of you had never been this close for this long and the only thing you could think about was the fact that he wore aftershave. He tucked you under his chin, unintentionally giving you the perfect view of his neck. 

You turned your face into him, pressing a kiss into the crook of his neck and mumbling a thank you to him. One he answered by pulling you closer and returning the gesture.

HUNTER

From your couch, Hunter listened to you move around your apartment. He was intent on seeing you turn in for the night, but that moment never came. At some point between resting and tracing your movements, Hunter dozed enough for you to slip by him. The sound of your balcony door opening snapped him back to reality.

Hunter sat up, thumbing his bandana out of his eye and keenly extending his senses. You definitely weren’t inside. Knowing he wouldn’t get any rest until he knew you were safe and asleep, Hunter rose to find you. Even then, sleep might evade him.

He had a feeling he’d be losing a little more sleep after this evening with you. 

When they left for another mission, Hunter focused on the objective. Seeing you was always something he looked forward to, but he couldn’t dwell on what was behind him. Anything other than setting his sights ahead put his squad in danger. Besides, Hunter knew he was going to keep the Galaxy safe and by extension that meant you too.

This time around challenged that perspective. Your jackass of an ex had been easy to chase off, but what about when they left? Prior to seeing a man mistreat you, Hunter never doubted your ability to survive on your own. By your own admission you’d done so most of your life. 

Even after the encounter with your ex Hunter didn’t doubt you. 

He doubted the people around you. People who saw all you had to offer and wanted to use that to their advantage. In the end, Hunter wasn’t sure what he hated more: the thought of you getting close to ill-intentioned people or realizing it couldn’t be him.

Finding you alone on your balcony only compounded his worries. You were alone in the cold, and it finally occurred to him that his squad took up every viable place to sleep. How was he any different from others taking advantage of you?

That resentful part of him took in the view of you against the city and wished it was a sight exclusively for him. For a moment he let himself believe it was. If only for the night.

Hunter slowly approached you and quickly realized you were mumbling to yourself. Hoping to afford you the privacy of your thoughts, Hunter cut you off by whispering, “I know you don’t think I’ll let you stay out here all night.”

You jumped at his voice, nearly colliding into him as you spun around. He was only a foot or two away, angling a smile down at you. Breathing into calm, you gave him a light shove as you glanced around for anyone else.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,”  you protested, the beginnings of a grin betraying your feigned annoyance.

“Then don’t sneak out like that.” He retorted lightly, nodding towards the open door behind him. Hunter looked at the city beyond you, wondering if he could spot where you’d been fixated. Drifting back to you, Hunter asked, “What are you doing out here?”

Your smile flinched, but you shrugged with a casual shake of your head. “Just needed some air.”

Hunter nodded, clearly only halfway believing you. While convincing you to go back inside crossed his mind as the right thing to do, he opted for spending more time with you. “Care for some company?”

Your eyes flitted between his, ultimately shaking your head. “Oh, I don’t think so.” You said, your tone scolding. Stepping into him, you pressed your hands to his stomach in attempts to redirect him inside. “You need sleep.”

He relished the feeling of your touch before tenderly gripping your wrists. You stopped pushing, but passed him a confused look. Hunter swept his thumbs over the soft skin of your wrist, acutely aware of your quickened pulse beneath his fingers.. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

You tugged your hands down, putting his hands in yours. On a tight grip you pulled him in, the force of it bringing his face an inch from yours. “Someone has to,” you insisted softly.

For all the fun they brought you it was so easy to forget that to most, Hunter and his squad were military assets. Outside of their worth in battle, little else about them mattered to the Galaxy. There was little you could offer them outside of occasional respite and hopeful thoughts and hope it meant something.

In his eyes, you saw the same thing that grew in you. Hesitancy - he was holding back, you both were. Neither of you spoke as you stood there, breathing in each other's presence. Slowly, Hunter raised your clasped hands to his lips, maintaining eye contact until his lips gently touched your skin.

“And who worries about you?” Hunter’s lips brushed your skin as he whispered.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” you countered.

The question halted the sergeant momentarily. It wasn’t that you were wrong, but that wasn’t his primary concern. Lowering your hands, Hunter sighed. "Worrying is nothing if I can't protect you."

The weight of his admission, hidden behind the hesitancy you glimpsed before, warmed you but looked heavy on his mind. You couldn’t fight. You were no trooper and absolutely no Jedi. But you could do one thing..

His hand was still holding yours when you reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the outline of the tattoo on his cheek. You offered him a broad, reassuring smile, taking a moment to admire the moment.

“Hunter,” his name was a hum in your voice. “I can protect myself.” He immediately opened his mouth, surely an objection not far behind, but you outspoke him. “Protect those who can’t protect themselves and when this war is over…” You paused, taking a deep breath as you searched for the right words. “Well, I'll still be here when it is.”

It may not have been poetry, but the lightness in his smile, meager and fleeting though it was, told you that burden was a little lighter.

“Come with me.” He whispered between you.

You instinctively pulled back. Leaving Coruscant, joining him in the stars - it was absurd. “Hunter, I can’t-”

“To the couch,” he clarified with a soft chuckle..

Heat rushed your cheeks at the misunderstanding. Clearing your throat you nodded, “Okay.”

He gave your hands a squeeze, held onto one, and guided you back inside. The apartment was silent, the living room dark and you were thankful for Hunter’s senses. He led you to the couch, motioning for you to go first.

You slid into place, pressing your back into the couch as Hunter joined you, caging you between his body and the couch. A vague attempt at watching over you for the night. 

Hunter pulled his bandana down over his eyes as he settled in around you.  Speaking in a tone low enough for only you to hear, he said, “I can’t promise the next one will get off so easily.”

The words were both a joke and a threat, wrapped in his unique brand of dry humor. You lightly scoffed, wrapping an arm over his chest and drawing him closer. “There won’t be a next one. Not until the war is over,” you mumbled into his chest.

TECH

Lying in a nest of blankets on your floor, Tech replayed the evening while your apartment settled into silence. Despite having found you and spent the evening in your company, a persistent restlessness gnawed at him, preventing any sense of ease.

So, he scoured the night’s happenings for the piece that kept his peace at bay.

The search for you had been brief and relatively straightforward—a minor challenge that excited Tech. Discovering you in a lounge, especially clad in an open-backed dress, had been a surprise that quickened his pulse. However, it wasn’t nearly as unsettling as the sight of a morally dubious man claiming to be your partner.

While he found no logic in your accepting amity, let alone intimacy, from a man who either lacked the capability, knowledge, or desire to measure up to you, the man was easily dissuaded and you were safe. Logically, there was no reason for lingering concern.

Spending the evening in your quarters should’ve dispelled any remaining apprehension. Your life was not at risk. In fact, there had been no mortal danger at all. Everything worked out. His search had been successful. You were safe.

And yet, he was left with an unfamiliar sense of uncertainty - a feeling he was less than comfortable with.

After returning to your apartment, Tech busied himself by installing several security enhancements and scrutinizing local crime statistics. Beyond that, there was little else he could do for you. You were adaptable and resourceful, he would not insult you by thinking you could not take care of yourself.

He also wouldn’t insult you by rejecting the makeshift bed you offered him. Though, by Tech’s surmising, that left nowhere for you to sleep. A theory proved right by you leaving Wrecker and Crosshair in your room, sneaking past the room where he lay and back out of sight.

Something wound tight in Tech’s chest. In a move of innate curiosity, he swept his blankets aside and followed in your footsteps. He was keen to see where you had gone or to just have eyes on you again.

You were a few silent steps ahead, leaving a cracked balcony door as the only indication of your path. Finding you lingering at the edge of your balcony stopped him at the door. It was the tension leaving his chest that struck him.

The physical relief was recognizable - the very same he felt each time they found you and the direct opposite of the pressure he felt meeting your former partner. The pressure was identical in the moments you were out of view. 

Tech adjusted his goggles as the pattern became clear. At the core of it all, you were the variable between the fleeting sensations. Identifying the truth of his unease came with the inevitable frustration of being unable to alter the circumstances. In the end, there was only one path forward.

He made no attempt to hide his presence, watching you stiffen as he drew near. Anchoring yourself to the railing, you leaned forward on an inhale and rocked back on the exhale. 

Unsure how to interpret your going taut, he asked outright, “Do you… wish to be alone?” Eyes fixed on the city you shook your head only once in response. Following your line of sight, Tech looked over the city and saw nothing of note.

A distant shout had him reaching for his datapad, something he left beside his nest of blankets. In lieu of reading through statistics Tech tuned his goggles to survey the street below. “The locality of your home is not what I’d deem a secure district.”

“It was probably just some drunk idiot,” you mumbled, not dissuading Tech from continuing to look around. Glancing sideways at him you had to smile at the seasoned soldier gripping the balcony and seemingly so intrigued by city life. Softly scoffing, you said, “There’s nothing to worry about, Tech.” 

“On the contrary,” Tech replied simply. Pulling his attention back to you, he kept one hand on the railing and said in a serious tone, “Your balcony makes you susceptible to intrusion and you’ve already fallen in with unsavory company.”

The last bit stung, but he wasn’t wrong. The concern, blunt as it may be, did feel nice.

Placing your hand over his, you tried to reassure him, “I’m fine, aren’t I?” His pursed into a thin line, clearly unwavering. Squeezing his hand a bit tighter, you added lightly, “Besides, you have more important things to worry about.”

Tech’s head tilted to the side, his eyes momentarily averting, but returned still as serious as before. “My duty to the Republic does take precedence, but that does not make your life any less important to me.”

You blinked once, then twice, absorbing his words. A part of you, a large part in fact, hoped the words carried more weight than just comfort. 

You must’ve looked as taken off guard as you felt for Tech to ask, “Does that surprise you?”

You opened your mouth, ready to make a denial, only to snap your mouth shut again. Once more you tried to speak but only, “A little,” came out. The two words tasted harsh, as if you were making light of the situation and of his feelings. Stepping closer, you lowered your voice and quickly added, “You mean so much to me. I just… I -” In an uncharacteristic fit of stammering you spat out, “I just didn’t think you cared that much.”

Tech’s gaze fell to where you held his hand, his brows furrowing behind his goggles. You felt his hand twitch beneath yours before it fully twisted, placing his palm against yours. For a few moments, you stood like that, hand in hand with his gaze locked on your hold.

His focus remained there, his thumb starting gentle paths as he slowly said, “I admit that I… only recently came to the conclusion myself.”

“What changed?” His eyes snapped to yours at your question.

Tech’s brows lifted and along with a corner of his lips. “It would appear the sight of you in the company of your former partner was not one I found enjoyable.”

The realization that all your hopes had rung true left you breathless. A warm flush spread across your cheeks, accompanied by a smile that not only curved your lips but also reached your eyes.

You laced your fingers into his, eagerly confessing, “Tech, I-”

“Where do you intend to sleep?” Tech cut you off with no thought to what you’d attempted to say.

Lost in the heat of the moment you took a moment to blink back into the present. “I’m sorry?”

Tech pointed a finger towards the door going inside. “You gave up every viable sleeping arrangement. Where will you sleep?”

Instead of admitting your previous intentions of avoiding sleep, you shrugged with an amused sigh. Hands still intertwined, you stepped back, tilted your head back and chuckled. “I was playing it by ear.”

“There is enough room beside me for you to fit.” Tech said matter of factly. A playful glint passed through his eyes. “Shall we find out?” You immediately conceded, gesturing for him to lead the way. 

As per usual, Tech was right. There was more than enough room for you both to fit into his makeshift bed. Tech adjusted the pillows to his liking and laid back, the both of you looking up at the ceiling in silence. Eventually Tech turned with his back to you, seeking some reprieve from the air between you.

Taking the opportunity before you, you scooted in behind him. He was nearly a foot taller than you, but somehow you fit in nicely behind him. He said little, simply adjusting back against you and positioning your arms around him. 

Just as he settled in, he started twisting in place, saying, “I should make note of such a significant moment.”

You answered his movements by tightening your arms around him. “Tomorrow. For now, sleep.”

He didn’t struggle against you, choosing to settle back again. “I fear that it will be harder than I originally imagined.”

tags: @bruh-myguy-what @baddest-batchers @jetii @hshfsjzjsgj @zahmaddog @heidnspeak

an: i realize I've missed some folks over time, let me know if you want on the tag list.

Hello friend! I couldn't find any rules for requests on your blog, so hopefully this one's okay, and if not feel free to ignore it!

Would you be okay with doing a little something based on the idea that all five of the bad batch boys realize that they're all in love with their medic reader? Like maybe they all just KNOW that their other brothers feel the same way about the reader and what they do about it? Do they all talk it over in private? do they just silently start trying to one up each other as a secret competition for her heart? Do they maybe go to the reader themselves instead? Or maybe they decide sharing is caring?? I'd love to hear your take on this concept, headcanons or a fic or whatever you're inspired to do with this idea it's all fine by me!

Please and thank you and also I hope you have a good weekend 💗

I have had the BEST time with this ask, and I hope you love it. This is deffo one I could write about from different angles all day long. I love the boys, but they provide more inspiration than I know what to do with, so this is only part 1 😬 if you had something else in mind, don’t hesitate to let me know. you know I’m always down to write about the boys 🥰

The Bad Batch x afab!Reader

warnings: mention of injury, nothing graphic, poly no clonc*st, Crosshair pining 👀

Part 2

word count: 3721 (*self control left the chat*)

The Havoc Marauder was never quiet, and now was no exception. Wrecker’s snores, Tech’s tinkering, Echo’s quiet muttering in his sleep, the barely audible sounds of Hunter fiddling with his knife. But there was a hole of silence in the quilt of sound, and it was shaped like you. It’s been 15 rotations, not that Crosshair’s counting, without your laugh ringing out, without your back popping loudly as you stretched when you woke up, without your voice whispering his name, as you sleepily let him know it was his turn on watch.

The five of them had been together, and they’d never needed or wanted anyone else in their space, on their team. Crosshair hadn’t even wanted you around at first. Wrecker had warmed to you quickly, but of course a pretty thing like you would never need the hard sell with Wrecker. Hunter had been wary of you, but in an effort to keep Wrecker from getting too attached, he’d inadvertently formed his own attachment to your presence. As for Tech and Echo, they’d kept their distance well enough, but your quiet intelligence, and curiosity had drawn them in.

Crosshair had been the holdout. Incensed by every breath you drew in his presence. The way you checked in with him after every mission, as if he needed you poking and prodding him. But when he needed stitches, you’d asked for permission to help him. If he didn’t want you to touch him, you wouldn’t.

“I’d never do anything without your consent. You’re in control here,” you’d said, holding your kit in steady hands, as you waited for his decision. He’d watched you with rapt attention through the mirror, your fingers resting gently against his skin, as you carefully cleaned, stitched up, and bandaged the wound on his shoulder.

After that, he would silently request your assistance when he needed it, and over time even when he didn’t need it. He would never say it out loud, but bacta patches placed by your gentle hands worked better. Your stitches were nearly painless. And the way you’d hum while you worked…well, that was just adorable.

When Commander Cody had requested you for a short stint, Wrecker had grumbled endlessly, and Crosshair had been the first to tell him to suck it up because you’d be back in their hair soon enough. He needed the space to clear his head, and he hoped the others would come to their senses without you in their presence.

Wrecker admitted to missing you within 12 hours. Tech kept finding excuses to talk about you. Meanwhile Hunter and Echo kept pointing out things you would like, and setting them aside for you. They had also placed bets on when Crosshair would snap and march onto the Negotiator to steal you back. Not that they would be upset if he did.

When it became clear that Crosshair would rather eat his armor than admit to being the least bit interested in you, the four of them had dragged him into the cockpit to decide what they would do when you returned. The feelings were there, and they weren’t going anywhere, but how to proceed.

“We should just come out and say it!” Wrecker said, feeling like the matter was concluded.

“It needs to be a tad more romantic than that,” Echo said shaking his head.

“According to my observations of her, she would appreciate a romantic gesture,” Tech said.

“Flowers?” Wrecker offered.

“She deserves more than flowers for putting up with us,” Echo said laughing.

“We could make a stop on her home world. It’s not too far out of the way,” Hunter added. “I think she’d like that.”

“This is a waste of time,” Crosshair said rolling his eyes. “You’re fooling yourselves.”

“When have Hunter’s senses ever been wrong?” Tech asked not even bothering to look up. “According to what he’s told me, she’s at the very least physically attracted to us. Based on her behavior that extends to an emotional bond as well.”

“What happened to not getting attached?” Crosshair challenged, and his brothers all looked at each other before looking back at him.

“You know you’re not as subtle as you think, Crosshair,” Echo said.

“And if I can tell how anyone’s feeling, it’s the four of you,” Hunter added.

“You’re all delusional,” Crosshair said shaking his head.

“You had her put a bacta patch on your arm last mission, and you coulda done it yourself,” Wrecker said giving the sniper a playful shove.

“She is our medic, she should at least pretend to do a job around here,” Crosshair said defensively. It was a losing battle, and he knew it. The others were blissfully under your spell, but he was not about to let you hurt him. Not about to let you reject him. No matter how badly he wanted you.

But as the clock rolled into the 16th rotation without you, it was Crosshair who hated your absence more than anyone. The others were open about it in their own ways, but he held it close. It was one of the few secrets he’d kept from his brothers. The realization annoyed him, as he swung his long legs over the side of his bunk to take over on watch for Hunter.

Sensing the tension rolling off of his younger brother, Hunter cleared his throat.

“She’ll be back in 2 rotations, and you’ll get to sleep longer again.” He knew it wasn’t sleep Crosshair was after, but it was the best way to let him know you were on your way back without suggesting the sniper actually missed you lest they wind up in another argument.

“Oh good, the little doctor will be back to baby Wrecker again, and you can all confess your love, and live happily ever after,” Crosshair sneered, but Hunter knew him well. There was no bite in his tone, and his face was more relaxed than Hunter had seen it since you waved goodbye and disappeared into the Negotiator.

“She just commed to see if we could pick her up before our next mission, and I almost said no,” Hunter said absently, as Crosshair dropped into the co-pilot’s seat. It wasn’t true, but he could hear Crosshair’s heart racing, his teeth grinding in frustration.

“I thought you were dying to have her back,” Crosshair bit out.

“Well, Cody’s really wanting to keep her, and it would be a great opportunity for her,” This part was true, but he knew he shouldn’t tease his brother this way even though he was sure whatever doubt your absence hadn’t wiped out, would be obliterated by jealousy.

“Commander Cody has a squad of medics. He doesn’t need her,” Crosshair replied, scoffing. The thought of Cody trying to tempt you away from them with a Star Destroyer and a Jedi annoyed Crosshair down to his bones. You wouldn’t be swayed by a big ship, and fancy toys. Would you?

“You’ve got a point,” Hunter began before putting the last nail in the coffin. “He doesn’t need her…maybe he just wants her.”

He could hear Crosshair’s heart thumping wildly, as he tried to maintain his composure.

“Doubt it,” Crosshair grumbled after several moments spent working to unclench his jaw.

“Guess we’ll find out,” Hunter said, rising from the pilot’s chair. “The call’s recorded, so you can watch it, and see for yourself.”

“I’m sure she’ll never shut up about it when she’s back,” Crosshair said dismissively.

Humming softly with a shrug, Hunter said good night, and left Crosshair alone. The sharpshooter waited until he was sure Hunter was asleep before playing your conversation.

As your form appeared, bathed in blue, a smile tugged at Crosshair’s lips. Had you always been this beautiful?

“Hi, Sarge! It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you boys like crazy,” you nearly moaned.

He’d never heard you make a sound like that. He immediately thought of you making that sound just for him, which annoyed him, but he couldn’t stop listening.

“We miss you too, cyar’ika. I’m sure you’re having fun though,” Hunter replied.

“It’s been nice to stretch my legs a bit and put some of the things I’ve learned to use. Commander Cody’s amazing…he’s uh, asked me if I want to stay on,” You look shy, nervous.

“Oh, is that uh, something you’re interested in?”

“Don’t get me wrong the Negotiator is spectacular, and I’ve enjoyed my time with the 212th,” you bite your lip, shifting your weight. You seem unsure if you should continue. After a moment, you pressed on, “but they’re missing a few things I can’t live without, so I’d like to come home, back to the Marauder I mean.”

“We’ll be glad to have you back,” Hunter replied.

“Good,” You look so relieved. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you boys since I left. Are you getting enough quiet time? Are Tech and Echo sleeping? Is Wreck staying out of trouble? Is Cross eating properly?”

Crosshair barely hears the rest of conversation because he can’t get past the part where you miss them, where you were worried about him.

“I’ll be all packed up and ready to go in two rotations. Do you mind coming to get me?” Your needy tone shakes Crosshair out of his thoughts. “I could get a shuttle, but it would take another rotation or two, and I don’t think I can wait that long.”

Crosshair realized he couldn’t either. He needed you back immediately. Sooner, really.

“Of course, doll,” Hunter says soothingly. “Two rotations, and we’ll be there.”

Reassured, your shoulders relax, “Wonderful! I can’t wait to see all of you! I’m sure Crosshair has enjoyed the break from me, but I’ve missed him so much. I miss all of you, Hunter.” Your voice is so tender, it makes his heart clench.

He had not enjoyed the break at all though. Between his brothers giving him a hard time, and wanting you back, he was miserable.

Two rotations. It wouldn’t be long now.

***

Crosshair’s leg was bouncing, as the Marauder docked with the Negotiator. You were so close, almost home.

The five of them boarded the Star Destroyer, and Crosshair’s eyes began searching for you immediately. Cody was there to greet them, grasping Hunter’s arm in welcome.

“Good to see you, Commander,” Hunter said warmly.

“Good to see you too, Sergeant,” Cody began, “I’m not going to lie, I tried to keep your medic. She’s brilliant, and the men adore her.”

“Of course they do,” Wrecker’s pride in you is evident.

“She said the Negotiator was missing a few necessities,” Cody quirked an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“She’s quite mistaken. The Havoc Marauder is not equipped with even 10% of what a Republic Venator has,” Tech says, brow furrowed.

“It doesn’t have Gonky,” Wrecker said as though it were obvious.

“It doesn’t have the five of you either!” you quipped, appearing at Cody’s elbow.

“Cyar’ika!” Wrecker bellowed, scooping you up and spinning you around.

“Wrecker!” you squealed as you returned his hug as tightly as you could

Crosshair’s heart was pounding again. He waited at the back of the group, watching his brothers welcome you back. Pressing their foreheads to yours, ghosting their fingers over your jaw, holding the back of your head gently. Then you were standing in front of him. Arms clasped behind your back, not reaching for him as you had the others. Respecting his space as always.

“I’m happy to see you too, Cross. Ready to deal with me every day again?”

“Are you ready to deal with me? All of us, again?”

“Ready and looking forward to it!” Your smile is bright and he nearly reached for you then, but he stopped himself.

“Well, Commander, you know where to find us, if you need us…or our medic again,” Hunter said with a grin.

“It was an honor serving alongside the 212th, Commander. I appreciate the opportunity,” You saluted Cody, and the others followed suit.

“The pleasure was all ours,” Cody returned the salute, and watched as the six of you returned to the Marauder.

***

You’re getting settled back into your space on the Marauder, answering questions from Wrecker, curious about the armory and ordnance, and Tech pestering you for every detail about the Negotiator, as Echo and Hunter wait to get a word in edgewise.

“Come on, boys. Give her some breathing room,” Hunter says, scooting them towards the cockpit, ignoring their protests.

“It’s good to have you back, saraad,” Echo said with a soft smile, that made your heart skip a beat.

You smile fondly at them as they go, going back to unpacking your things, and changing.

Crosshair is in his bunk, pretending he’s not watching you, but he can’t focus on anything else. Every inch of skin you reveal is making his body react. His heart thumping, breath growing shallow, as he drinks you in. This isn’t even the first time he’s seen you naked or changing, but it feels different now. He frowns as he notices a bandage on your hip peaking out of your panties, wrapping around your hip. It’s covered swiftly by the bottom half of a fresh set of blacks.

He slid out of his bunk, and you turned to face him, as you pulled the top half down covering your stomach, hiding your skin from his gaze. Naturally, you stepped back to give him space, and you were pleasantly surprised when he deliberately stepped closer. You looked up at him expectantly, eyes searching his for any hint of what he’s up to.

Crosshair was sure he should say something, but his mind was only offering sardonic quips that would convey the truth, but not like he wanted. He lifted a hand, and tapped your hip softly, fingertips resting against you. This was the first time Crosshair had ever touched you without necessity. Your heart sped up, and you swallowed hard.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice low and even.

“Rooftop sniper,” you shook your head, folding your arms. “One of the other medics wasn’t as lucky. He was still in the med bay when you came to pick me up. No one could have clocked him to be fair.”

“I could have,” Crosshair said, anger simmering under his even tone.

“Well, there’s only one Crosshair in the galaxy. Next time I leave, I’ll take you with me.” You smiled up at him, but his face held the frown.

“Hey, I’m ok. Still good to do my job,” you added, brow furrowing.

“Fucking regs,” He swore, as he shifted his hand to hold your hip gently like you were a fragile thing. A fragile thing that belonged to him.

You hesitated before resting your hand against his chest, tapping your fingertips against the plastoid.

“Cross, I’m home, and in one piece. How can I show you?”

An eyebrow raised at that, sharp eyes taking you in, lingering on your lips, as they parted, a silent invitation for him. He leaned down, bringing his lips close to yours, begging you to close the distance. You wrapped your arms around his trim waist, as you pressed your lips to his softly.

The ache that had been simmering in his chest since you left is morphing into arousal, moving to settle down in his belly. His lips moved tentatively against yours, teeth nipping gently at your bottom lip.

“Hey,” Wrecker protested loudly. “We agreed we’d all talk to her together, Crosshair!”

The two of you break apart, and you clear your throat, your eyes trained on Crosshair.

“Talk to me about what?” You asked, breathlessly.

“Sorry, doll,” Crosshair said before Wrecker tugged him away in a headlock.

“What are you gonna talk to me about?” you asked again.

“When we get home, cyar’ika,” Wrecker said before turning to Crosshair. “Knew you were full of it, Cross!”

You touch your lips, as you watch the pair of them playfully fighting down the corridor. Did that happen? You pinched your arm as hard as you could, grimacing when it hurt, confirming you were awake, Crosshair had just kissed you. What the hell happened while you were gone? And what did they need to talk to you about?

***

In the cockpit on watch, you relaxed in the copilot’s chair, Tech snoozed gently in the pilot’s chair. It was so good to be home despite the fact that there was clearly something going on with your boys. Your alarm beeped, and you rose from the chair, yawning and stretching ready to trade out with Crosshair, and pass out for a little while.

Hunter intercepted you in the hallway with a grin. “I can’t sleep, so I’ll cover for Crosshair. Go get some rest.” He kissed your forehead, and added, “Good to have you home, Doc.”

“Good to be home, Sarge,” you replied before bidding him goodnight, and heading towards your bunk.

“Hunter?” You turn towards him.

“Hmm?” Hunter asks turning to you.

“What happened while I was gone? Why’s everyone acting weird?”

“We’ll talk when we get back to Kamino. Get some rest,” He says with a mysterious grin that makes you bite your lip.

You pout but follow his orders and head to your bunk. You’re about to climb in when you look towards Crosshair’s bunk. He was the least likely to spill the beans, but he had kissed you earlier. Was that the big secret?

You moved to stand near Crosshair’s bunk. Pushing back the privacy curtain, you whispered his name like you normally would to wake him up for his shift.

“My turn already?” he replied sleepily.

“No, Hunter’s there. I was hoping we could talk about earlier, or we could just sleep,” Even after your encounter earlier, he still made you nervous, and you worried you’d made a mistake until he lifted the blankets, and silently invited you into his bed.

You crawled in, and he lowered the blanket over your body before snaking his arm around your waist and pushing his leg between yours. His muscular thigh pressed up against you, sending a wave of heat through your body. He tucked your head beneath his chin, and it became clear he was not saying a word, so you listened to his heartbeat until you were lulled to sleep.

When you woke up a few hours later, you realized that you hadn’t slept well at all while you were gone. You needed to be crammed into the Marauder with your squad to relax. It helped that Crosshair had held you the entire time, and as you stretched and arched your back you realized he was looking at you.

“Did you sleep well?” you asked quietly not wanting to disturb the others. He simply nodded, his eyes roaming your face, as his hand rested on your waist.

“Good. We should be home soon, yeah?” you asked, rolling onto your back before sitting up.

“Something like that,” Crosshair replied cryptically.

You didn’t bother asking what he meant before sliding out of the bunk, and tossing him a smile.

“I’m going to see where we are. Go back to sleep.”

Once again he nodded, but he knew there was no chance of going back to sleep. Not when he knew what they had planned for the day.

You wandered into the cockpit, taking the co-pilot’s seat next to Echo.

“How was your first night back?” Echo asked smiling as you got comfortable in the chair.

“Cozy. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss you guys until I was gone.”

“I don’t think we did either,” he confesses.

“Oh yeah?” You asked, trying not to seem too happy about it.

He nodded, and the two of you were quiet for a moment. As always silence was never awkward with Echo, and while this was no exception, you could feel a tension in the air. It was reminiscent of the one you’d felt the night before when Crosshair had kissed you.

“I don’t suppose I can get you to tell me what’s going on?” You asked, turning the chair towards him and leaning forward.

“Always so impatient, saraad,” Echo says shaking his head.

“I can’t help it. Something’s up. Crosshair has been sweet to me,” you add in a conspiratorial whisper.

Echo huffs out a short laugh.

“Oh has he now?”

“Yeah, and,” you hesistate. You want to keep going, to spill every thought in your head to Echo, but something’s got your tongue. “It’s nothing.” You turn your chair back into place, and ask, “Where are we? How far from home?”

Reluctantly, Echo tears his gaze away from you. He looks over the navicomputer.

“Not far.”

“You wanna get some sleep? I can get us to Kamino safely.”

He raises an eyebrow at that.

“Ok, I can get us there. No promises on the condition,” you concede.

“You’re meant to be resting. Crosshair told us what happened,” Echo trails off.

“I told you he was being sweet to me, but I guess a kiss is a little more than sweet…”

“Kiss?! I meant you getting shot!” Echo hisses trying not to wake the others, as he spins towards you.

“He told you about that?!” You hiss back, spinning towards him.

“Of course he did. Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t wanna worry you guys. Cross was not happy when he saw the bandage, and…”

“Of course he wasn’t. And I’m not happy you didn’t tell us. We could have lost you,” Echo’s eyes are worried, his brow knit together, as he reaches for your face.

His fingertips have just brushed your jaw when the cockpit opens, and the pair of you sit back and look towards the door.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Hunter says, gesturing for you to follow him.

“I was,” you pout. “I just wanted to see if we were close to home.”

“That’s funny because it sounded like you were arguing about keeping your injury a secret,” Hunter says. Out of everyone on the ship, you never thought Crosshair would be the one to tell on you.

“No, I was just…trying to…ya know?”

“No, I don’t know, senaar’ika. Now get in your bunk and rest your eyes. I’ll wake you the moment we land.”

“Fine,” you relent, and climb into your bunk, and even your racing brain can’t keep you awake.

taglist: @dystopicjumpsuit (not sure if you wanted to be tagged in everything or not, so just let me know 🥰)

One for all is some sort of cursed power...

Close ups

This is such a sweet idea! And the art!! Love love love ♥️

After the NotPocalypse, Crowley grows birds of paradise. He claims it's because he just digs their resemblance to his current hairstyle, but Aziraphale read in a book once that they symbolise joy, freedom, and liberty. And whenever the angel sees them, he feels flashes of Crowley's love.

liberty (noun):

1. the state of being free within society from oppressive restrictions imposed by authority on one's way of life, behavior, or political views.

2. the power or scope to act as one pleases.

the phone call to chris but dumb

Monsoon by Sabit 

It's April 10, 2025, for me, so it's the 500th anniversary of the Prussian Homage (1525). So here's an artwork of mine copying Matejko.

It turned out pretty good, I guess?

resurrection as the sidewalk you walk your dog down - judas h.

OMG!! THIS IS SO LOVELY!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I LOVE THE WINGS SO MUCH!! JHLWKJWELK YOU’RE JUST AMAZING!!! THANKS AGAIN!!

Requested by @sky-aris-blog2

Hope you like it! I had a lot of fun drawing her!

:)

cowboy Berlin

closeup + doodle

Cozy rookanis commission for @cranbebbies <3