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⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙ messy’s lil masterlist and updates.

hi there, welcome home! 🏡 it’s good to see you. please read this if any of my posts leave you with burning questions.

well, this is your one stop for all of my posts! I will update it as necessary, when possible. I really hope you enjoy whatever you choose to read, and constructive feedback is always welcome. 🧚‍♀️

#messyyythoughts #masterlist #fanfic #star wars fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #star wars #marvel #aot fanfiction #aot #it ain't much but it's honest work #IF YOU CAN'T FIND ANY YOU GOTTA MAKE IT YOURSELF #stay safe #love u all

princess from afar.

gladiator 2 marcus acacius x female!princess reader.

author’s note: this idea came to me like a holy vision after watching like 100 gladiator 2 trailer edits of Pedro Pascal. god save us all when that movie is finally out. it will be feral girl hours!!! also MAYBE SPOILERS??? idk be careful x

small disclaimer: so... I haven’t had the pleasure of watching the first Gladiator movie, my apologies beforehand if anything is inaccurate lore-wise! I tried to go off what I knew of Ancient Rome and take inspiration from the movie and the sequel coming out later this year. I hope you all enjoy!

summary: you are a princess from far away visiting Rome under its new Emperors. the Roman General catches your eye, and you catch his.

warnings: gladiator-like violence.

: ̗̀➛: ̗̀➛: ̗̀➛

#messyyythoughts #female!reader #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #marcus acacius #general acacius #pedro pascal #fanfic #gladiator 2024 #princess!reader #female princess reader #reader x pedro pascal

sands of zion, part 4.

fallout: new vegas Joshua Graham x female courier reader

author’s note: i am tipsy, have this xxx

summary: the Dead Horses want to move against the White Legs, but Joshua doesn’t expect the consequences...

warnings: war antics, the usual fallout: new vegas violence warning lol

••●••••●••••●••

it was as if merely talking about Caesar had taken the very spirit from you. and Joshua hated it. every day he awoke hoping that his prayers had been answered to find you back to your old self, but each day that passed he found himself losing faith in his God. if ghosts were real, then he was watching one walk around his camp that looked remarkably like you. Follows-Chalk had made several attempts at communicating with you, but nothing could get your mind off of the evil that was Caesar waiting for you back in the Mojave. how his assassins hadn’t made it here yet you didn’t know, and it made you overly paranoid. they could be watching, waiting in the shadows, seeing how far you could get before they grabbed you. you’d refused to leave the camp for anything that wasn’t immediately life or death business, and it was beginning to irritate the Dead Horses. if they got that annoyed with you, they could show you the way home and you’d never bother them again. but, there was still the problem of the White Legs to deal with before any of the inhabitants of Zion would show you the way home, so you had to deal with it soon. one day, amidst your paranoia, you awoke to loud, shouting voices coming from outside of Angel’s Cave. you didn’t decipher any of the speech clearly at first, then you heard your name being thrown around. darting out of bed, you grabbed your rifle, forgoing your trench coat or outdoor clothes, and burst out into the sunlight in your sleeping clothes. Follows-Chalk was stood against a group of Dead Horses members, attempting to placate them as they stared at you with anger in their eyes. Joshua was nowhere to be seen. your eyes scanned the river before you lowered your rifle. “what is all of this about?” you asked quietly, though you feared you knew anyway. “we can talk about this in a calm way–” Follows-Chalk began, but the voices rose against him faster than he could handle. you picked out a few words, and understood that they were complaining of your idleness in the recent weeks, and the threat of the White Legs you were meant to be aiding Joshua in eliminating. your lips pressed together in mild embarrassment, but you really could care less, because they had no idea who Caesar was and what he was going to do to you the moment this war was over. “send her to the White Legs if she’s so scared of them! we are ready to fight them, why won’t Joshua Graham make the move?” one woman yelled, anger distorting her features. the funny thing was that all of these women had braided your hair, taught you words and shared their food with you a handful of times before. now you were their worst enemy, save the White Legs. Follows-Chalk was doing his best, but you knew he was no match for angry women. the men stood further back, shooting you disapproving glares. they’d seen you as one of them many times, but now you were no better than a child. you put a hand on Follows-Chalk’s arm, and his worried eyes met your dead ones. you nodded and he stepped back, closing his mouth. you faced the group, eyeing up each one. “if you want to move against the White Legs, I will speak to Joshua Graham.” your words only did the bare minimum to quiet their anger. at the rise of more voices, you held up a hand. “do not forget that it has been me who has rescued one of your children, defeated dozens of your enemies and fought for all of you with my life many times over.” your voice was raised, built on a foundation of disbelief at their words. “I will finish this war, but not if you disrespect me any further. am I clear?” they all went silent, watching you. “am I clear?” you yelled, snapping. the women’s heads dropped and they moved back. the men bristled at your tone. “be ready to fight with your lives, if you can do that.” you looked at each one of them in the eyes, and felt every one of them staring into your soul. Follows-Chalk followed you quietly into Angel’s Cave as you sighed and held in a desperate scream of frustration. you barely remembered the last few weeks, it had been a big blur of nonsense. you’d finally realised how soon you were going to face Caesar and lose your life in the process, and yes, you had others depending on you, but they didn’t know half of what your life had been. “do you know where Joshua is?” you asked Follows-Chalk, as you unpacked your belongings in preparation for the fight of your life, which would soon be overshadowed by the fight you’d bring to Caesar. “he is making final preparations for the attack, or at least that is what he told me.” you nodded, smoothing your hair away from your face and sighing heavily. “thank you for trying to save my reputation back there,” you said, “it wasn’t worth it but at least they’ll fight alongside me now.” Follows-Chalk was at your side, a worried look on his sweet face. his hand rested on your shoulder. “what troubles you, Courier? you have been a ghost since...” Follows-Chalk didn’t finish his sentence because footsteps approached. your heads both swivelled to meet the owner, and it was Joshua. he seemed surprised to see you up and awake, organising your things nonetheless. “we can talk later.” Follows-Chalk eyes searched yours for any hint of a smile, and even though you faked one, it didn’t fool him. he’d grown to know much about you personally since meeting you, and that smile wasn’t like the ones he’d seen from you before. he walked away, feeling something uneasy about you. ••●••••●••••●•• you filled Joshua in on the near-uprising against you, and he agreed that a move against the White Legs was looking favourable. you both stood at his desk, moving around it as you mapped out the White Legs territory from several scout reports. Joshua didn’t mention your behaviour recently, he was just satisfied that his prayers had been answered at last, and content to be enjoying your company once again. you went back and forth all evening, hypothesising the best formations and plans. you briefly paused the debates to make dinner and start inventory of all the weapons available to the Dead Horses. there was a lot, the scouts had done well, and Joshua had tracked down some pre-War technology that had been made useful by tinkering and experimenting. the sun went down, and Joshua gave the order to be ready to move out at first light. you continued planning, poking holes in each other’s ideas, before you settled on one of Joshua’s plans. you liked it, it had the least chance of failure, and it would get you into the White Legs camp where you could do the most damage. the necessary Dead Horse members were informed of the plan, and you both tried to get some sleep. Joshua resorted to studying his holy book at some point in the night, and you had started to clean your rifle and organise your trench coat with its many pockets. neither of you spoke as you knew it would only serve as a temporary distraction from the real thing that would be upon you in a few hours. as the sky began to change with the rising sun, you both got changed and checked weapons one last time. you were attempting to braid your hair out of the way but it proved hard with a scattered mind. you gave up and let it sit behind your shoulders, sat on your old camping bed, when Joshua’s voice broke the silence of Angel’s Cave for the first time in hours. “may I...?” your eyes landed on him, and he was stood at the end of your bed, looking at your hair. you nodded and took off your hat, smoothing your hair down. he knelt behind you, taking your hair in three sections and beginning the braid. it was the simplest one, but it kept your hair out of your face. you sat there, staring at the walls of the cave and imagining your death. would a White Leg grab and slash your throat open? a stray bullet? an explosive? a brutal fist fight to the death? you didn’t even notice that Joshua was long finished the braid, and was still knelt behind you, just waiting. he was probably thinking, too. you turned around, facing him. the sight of him on his knees might’ve elicited a different reaction from you in a different life, but now it just made you sad. deeply and utterly sad. he looked up at you, and you looked down at him. “we’re losing time.” you said softly, feeling a strange knot in your throat. “we are.” Joshua watched as you stood up, slinging your rifle over your shoulder and leaving the cave. he stood, watching after you.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fallout joshua graham #messyyythoughts #fallout new vegas honest hearts #zion #joshua graham #courier six #female courier #Female Courier x Joshua Graham #sands of zion #part four #fnv

random thought but I’d love to read a fanfic about two Jedi who meet as padawans, and as they grow older and train under their masters they fall deeply in love but they must hide it because attachment is forbidden but they literally can’t resist one another! I’m begging can someone write about this and save me!!!

#star wars #messyyythoughts #fanfic #Jedi #padawan #attachment is forbidden #but they can’t stop themselves

wow wow wow! 100 reblogs :))) thank you everyone with all my heart <3

i’m so glad that ppl are enjoying what i put on this little blog, hopefully there’s many more milestones to come in the future!

thank you again, messy xoxo

#thank you #messyyythoughts #fanfic #fanfic writer #100 reblog

the funny little things.

criminal minds Dr. Spencer Reid x female BAU reader

author’s note: oh dear... a new obsession, i fear! in all seriousness: this series single-handedly got me through the end of 2022, so what better to do than write something for it?! summary: your relationship with Dr Reid of the BAU is a good one, so good that there’s these little funny things that you both do with one another... warnings: working on murder cases (reader is part of BAU)/trauma from working on cases --> so read at your own discretion! ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

you were in your short pyjamas, the heat of Nevada hadn’t been a joke, even with aircon in the rooms you found yourself hotter than usual. Reid watched as you entered his bathroom, taking the toothpaste, and returning to your bathroom. he smiled as you brushed your teeth, clueless to his newly acquired knowledge. he knew just what to do with it too. when you got back to Virginia, you showed your parents some moments from the trip and they asked some very thought provoking questions. “honey, this doctor guy seems lovely, are you sure it’s just a friendship?” your mother asked, watching you from across the kitchen. you smiled at her and nodded. “we’re good friends, and good work colleagues, I couldn’t ask for more.” you replied, to which your father nodded. “that’s all we can ask for, a good friend in your life.” your father then got up, walking over to you and your mother in the kitchen. he poured himself some coffee, thinking. you knew exactly what was coming. “but,” you started to chuckle, “are you sure this isn’t something more?” you nodded in silence, and he walked away, not believing a word you said. your mother eyed you up as you scrolled through the selfies of you and Spence in Nevada, and tutted. even she could see it, you were falling for this Spencer Reid character faster than you realised. still, she didn’t say anything, not yet at least. perhaps you’d come to the realisation once the trip became a memory and you thought about what a good time you had with your ‘work friend’. you giggled to yourself whenever you thought about the toothpaste stunts you’d pulled, thinking Spence was none the wiser, until he dropped you off home one evening after work and then a few minutes later knocked on your front door. “Spence?” you asked, opening the front door to let him in. “hi, yeah, I actually meant to ask you something but it slipped my mind until just now.” he said, so casually. “I don’t have any toothpaste at home, could I borrow yours?” your cheeks betrayed you, as did your facial expression. Reid smiled devilishly at catching you out, and you brought your hands to your face. “you knew the whole time? oh why didn’t you say?!” you laughed weakly, as Reid watched you unravel in your hallway. you looked straight at him, eyes twinkling with mischief, but face so hot. Reid closed your front door, leaving his hand on the handle. “so?” he asked, eyes meeting yours. “can I borrow your toothpaste? or do I go home empty handed?” you finally got a hold on yourself, and pressed your lips together before facing him. “Spencer Reid, are you asking me for toothpaste, or something else?” you asked, taking steps towards him. “I think we both know the toothpaste isn’t what I’m here for.” he said it so calmly, looking at you with his beautiful, smart eyes.

#messyyythoughts #criminal minds #spencer reid #behavioural analysis unit #bau #dr reid #spencer reid headcanon #headcanon #reid #spencer #cm bau #spence #toothpaste #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader

the sands of Zion, part 3.

fallout: new vegas Joshua Graham x female courier reader

message from messy - HAPPY 2023 LOVELIES!!! <3 as it’s my first proper post of the year, I wanted to take this time to thank each and every one of you who have ever shown love to my posts, it means a lot, and I thank you. I hope this winter season you had time to see family, friends and pets :) that’s all from me, stay safe, and enjoy! author’s note: please take some time to familiarise yourselves with both part 1 and part 2 of ‘the sands of Zion’ for this third part to make an sense at all, lots of love! summary: the White Legs are becoming ruthless, and you seem to be the only one who can stand up to them in Joshua’s absence... warnings: child kidnapping, the obligatory fallout: nv violence warning

part 1 part 2

••●••••●••••●••

one month. you’d been stuck in this canyon bordered sand pit for an entire month now, and still you were lacking the materials needed to attempt repairing your beloved Pip Boy. that, or Follows-Chalk, was the only thing able to get you out of here, but as long as the White Legs existed... that was never going to happen. so, you continuously toiled away at Joshua’s command. what you wouldn’t give for a Godly force to wipe the White Legs from your life, letting you start the long trek home at last. but no, in fact, you were still wracked with a dying sense of guilt when you made any form of contact with Follows-Chalk, despite the fact he was healing well, and the Dead Horses now hailed you as the ‘God-sent good neighbour’ they’d been hoping for since the conflict with the White Legs began. Joshua held you in good regard, and trusted you with missions of high importance on your own. you’d taken to lone wandering now Follows-Chalk was all but confined to the Dead Horses camp under the orders of the healers, who no longer side-eyed you with contempt, but rather amicable understanding. you had saved one of their own and gotten revenge, something they praised when you weren’t around to hear it. all in all, your relationships with the Dead Horses were going well. many of the warriors enjoyed your company, the hunters and scouts appreciated you holding down their territory and the healers were receptive to your deliveries of medicinal plants and supplies when they demanded them. Joshua couldn’t be more pleased, though he didn’t outwardly express his proud feelings it in front of the others. when you two were alone in Angel’s Cave, however, he often made little comments about your work that day, a hint of pride behind his otherwise carefully measured tone. those comments stuck in the back of your mind most days, reminding you that someone was waiting to hear of your successes when you returned to camp after a few days of gruelling, hard labour. for your efforts, Joshua had ordered you a few days of rest while he took over from your duties. in essence, you were replacing him, and he was replacing you, for a short time. off he went, pistol in hand, to partake in a scouting mission for the Dead Horses tribe, leaving them under your watch and protection. somewhere inside of you, you couldn’t help but feel as if he were testing you in some way. would he return to order and solidarity, or chaos and death? you were aiming for the first one, but should the second one occur... no it wouldn’t, because you had everything under control. at least, that was until the next day. Joshua had been absent from the camp for a day at most, before tragedy struck. you were quietly conversing with a few of the women of the tribe, they were teaching you some new words that would assist you in your translation efforts. it was very kind of them to go to such lengths, not only teaching you the correct pronunciation but the implied meanings behind each word. you had just learned a particularly difficult word when a cry sounded from upriver. the entire camp was suspended in momentary silence, until you dropped the half-made spear in your hand and started for the water’s edge. closely followed by the women of the tribe, wielding various melee weapons, you all made your way up the waters of the Eastern Virgin river to find a lone Dead Horse member stood there, calling out for someone. “my baby, my little girl!” a voice was shakily calling out, then she was on her knees in the water, sobbing openly. you and the Dead Horse tribeswomen had been the first to arrive, and carefully approached the sobbing woman in the water. she was openly cut on her face and visibly shaking. blood was leaking from the face wound. “what? what is it?” you asked in shaky Dead Horse dialect, your panic overriding your language skills. “they have taken her from me! my baby is gone.” you looked to the mouth of the river where the woman was facing, and saw that she was right. from the tracks alone you could tell that a child had been walking here recently. to add to the horror, there were blood splatters and White Leg markings left behind purposefully to taunt the mother. you couldn’t make them out from here, but Follows-Chalk soon appeared at your side, and read them aloud for you, and everyone else to hear. “we take your children, so your tribe will be ended swiftly when we attack.” the meaning was obvious. with no children left behind to carry the bloodline of the Dead Horses forward, the next big attack by the White Legs would be a brutal one, aiming to decimate the remaining Dead Horse warriors. your blood was boiling, rushing around your entire body at once, preparing you for what was about to be an impossible mission. retrieve a child from what would be the middle of the White Legs camp, because where else would they take her, but there? Follows-Chalk helped the mother to stand, before the others surrounded her and guided her back to the safety of the camp. men and women alike united around her, their whispers too low and hushed for you to make out what was being said. “I thought there were no children allowed here because of the war?” you asked Follows-Chalk, who stood silently beside you in the lull of the current. you couldn’t keep the tone of disappointment out of your voice. how could someone risk something like that? their own child, in the midst of a war, against enemies as dangerous as the White Legs no less. “the girl has no one but her mother, she was visiting from the other camp briefly today with one of our messengers.” Follows-Chalk replied sadly, the regret in his voice stabbing you in the heart. “Joshua isn’t going to be happy,” you sighed, walking up to the markings left on the canyon wall and tracing over them lightly, “but we should tell him.” you finished, rubbing the chalk off of your fingertips. “the mother will face punishment for disobeying Joshua Graham’s orders.” Follows-Chalk said, unwilling to agree to your comment. you paused, and turned to look at him. “she let her daughter be brought here when there is a war on, Follows-Chalk, we have no other choice. the entire camp heard her wailing, and when Joshua asks where I’ve been when I return with a child, how will we explain ourselves?” you demanded, gesturing to the markings left behind. there was also the blood splatters as evidence of a fight occurring right outside of the camp to explain. Follows-Chalk went quiet, staring at the river, before answering. “I ask this of you, courier. should you not return in time, allow me to explain things to Joshua Graham, while you retrieve the child in secret. once you have her, take her to the wooden house on the hill I showed you not long ago. I will meet you there with our visiting messenger, and the child will be returned safely to the other camp. I will let her mother know of the plan.” you listened, and your brain was not liking what it was hearing. “you’re asking me to just lie to Joshua like that?” you asked. “after all he has done for me.” your voice was but a whisper, just in case your voices carried down the river. Follows-Chalk saw the internal conflict on your face, and nodded, walking up to you. “he has left this camp and its people under my watch, my protection. I will not – no – cannot lie to him when he returns and we’ve had a child kidnapped!” you argued.

“please, save the girl, take her to the wooden house. from there, we will talk.” Follows-Chalk said again, trying to reach the middle ground. you had to admit, it was a better plan than sending the child back to the other camp with no word to Joshua at all, but things still needed to be made clear to him once this had all been dealt with. you and Follows-Chalk would discuss it later, that much was certain. “we talk about it in the wooden house, okay?” you agreed, piercing Follows-Chalk’s eyes with your own. he nodded and headed back down the river without another second to waste, just in case you changed your mind. you followed, only after looking at the chalk markings on the canyon walls once again, shaking your head with furrowed brows in disgust. how could the White Legs take a child like that? similar things had probably happened back in the Mojave, but those kidnappers used the concepts of ransom and negotiation to get a favourable outcome, and something told you the White Legs didn’t care for the intricacies of kidnapping children. heading swiftly into Angel’s Cave, you retrieved everything you’d need to leave the camp. water, bandages, bullets, pistols, hat, trenchcoat. you used the packing time to calm yourself momentarily, this was serious, and you needed a level head. finally ready, you made your hasty way out of the cave, but you were blocked by one of the elderly, expressionless healers. barely stopping in time to avoid a physical collision, you looked at them with wide eyes, as they stood firmly in your path. then, they began to chant. at first, you didn’t quite understand what was happening, if you were getting in the way or being chanted at. then, you realised. you took your hat off in a hurry, ditching your weapons on the cave floor. you’d seen the healers do this to their strongest hunters and warriors, bless them before they left the confines of Angel’s Cave. standing absolutely still, you closed your eyes and listened to the chant. it wasn’t anything hugely ceremonial for the Dead Horses, just an everyday ritual they believed and practiced. you felt the drag of the healer’s thumb across your forehead, running underneath your stray hairs, then across your cheeks and down your chin. the hand painted markings resembled the blessing, and the more lines, the more favoured you were. you counted four lines being made, and when the healer stepped out of your path, you nodded silently in thanks before collecting your things and heading out of the cave into the sun. ••●••••●••••●•• you wasted no time tracking the White Legs. they’d left behind footsteps, as always, and there was the occasional blood drop trail too. you sincerely hoped it didn’t belong to the girl. unfortunately, deep down, you were prepared to expect the worst. should you be faced with that, you knew exactly what the Dead Horses would expect of you. it was your speciality now, getting revenge. ••●••••●••••●•• barely an hour had passed when the trail you’d been closely following split into two. there had been a distinct lack of children’s footprints up until this point, but now they appeared, and went up the rocks into the mountains. the other set headed towards the general direction of the White Legs territory, and lacked any small footprints. hesitant, you started following the mountain bound trail, and found that your suspicions were confirmed by a patch of blood on a rock. they’d taken her away from the camp, expecting the Dead Horses to follow in an outrage and most likely walk straight into a deadly ambush or trap further down the path. the White Legs were getting... smart. it worried you, because it meant they were amping things up in expectation of a full frontal battle soon. you’d have to initiate a discussion with Joshua about the changes in the White Legs’ tactics recently, see what he made of it. you followed the trail up the mountainside, the footprints getting less and less frequent as the winds up here blew the sand around, disturbed it. still, you could make out roughly whereabouts they were heading with the girl, and you couldn’t be far behind them. you’d left shortly after the discovery of the girl’s disappearance, but how soon had the mother discovered her daughter missing? it could’ve been five minutes, an hour. Follows-Chalk had left that detail out, funnily enough. the trail was getting sparse, the winds harsher this far up. you held your rifle in your hands tight, expecting an ambush at any given moment as the sun began to dip behind the high canyon walls. still, you seemed to be getting no closer, until another patch of blood. fresh, right there on the rocks, but a bit high up for a child’s average height when standing. had one of the White Legs taken an injury while kidnapping her? you hoped so. it was so fresh that it still shone against the dying sun, still ran a little when the wind blew against it. you slowed your pace, preparing yourself for attack. each turn was a calculated one as you moved forwards, not wanting to risk the safety of the girl. a few more quiet steps, another corner, yet nothing was happening. your hands had been gripping the rifle for hours now since you ascended in hopes of catching up to the White Legs. then, a voice. the wind happened to blow right into you, carrying a voice with it. you paused, pressing yourself against the canyon’s rocks, straining your ears to listen. the winds blew again, carrying those voices back around to you. you didn’t understand as much of the White Legs language as you did the Dead Horses, but the tension in the voices told you enough. it sounded like things weren’t going to plan. it was definitely male voices, but no child’s voice yet. holding your breath, you barely peeked around the corner, and spotted the backs of four White Legs, and the girl, sat on the sand, cross legged and tied up, a stained cloth in her mouth. the girl was staring at the sand, a defeated look on her face, which made your heart speed up. you willed her to look at you, spot your eyes around the shadows of the mountain path. you eased yourself down into the prone position, letting the rifle comfortably fall into place. you’d done this a hundred times, if not a thousand, and just had to do it again. line up, account for the wind and distance, and exhale. the first shot fired, two White Legs fell to the sand, having been stood in a perfect lineup for you to take them down together. the other two spun around, trying to find the source of the attack. you fired again, taking the third one out, and the fourth dove for the girl, knife at the ready. you were trying to line up when the White Leg put the knife to the girl’s throat, and stared at your scope, dead on. clever, putting the girl between him and you. you put the rifle down, revealing yourself. you told yourself that him spotting you was pure luck, nothing else. he was panicking now, having seen his fellow warriors downed by two bullets in less than thirty seconds. “let her go.” you demanded in English, abandoning your rifle behind you. you didn’t need any guns to take this man on, you knew that. the White Leg shouted something at you, to which you shook your head. “I don’t understand you, just let the girl go.” you took a step forward, and watched in horror as the knife began to draw blood. you took three quick steps back, hands held up flat, facing the White Leg. after seeing your empty hands, the White Leg hauled the girl to her feet, before pointing the knife at you. he motioned for you to come closer, and you took one step, slowly. he motioned again, and you took a second step. he had a tight grip on the girl, she was absolutely terrified. her wide, wet eyes made your brain start panicking, but you had to squash it down, for now was not the time. the White Leg repeated his previous statement, to which you didn’t react, as you had no idea what he was saying. when you were within reach of the girl, the White Leg threw her down onto the sand behind him, still holding that knife. it was a sharp thing, mean looking. you didn’t want it anywhere near you, or her again, but how were you going to get it off of him without causing a scuffle? he motioned for you to come even closer, and you hesitated, so he lunged instead, almost sinking the knife into your shoulder. he wanted a one on one fight, you realised, that’s why he was beckoning you! whoever won the fight took the girl and walked away alive. ‘fine.’ you thought, before locking your hand around his wrist, keeping that knife well away from you, and using your other hand to clamp down on his neck. the girl behind him was now fighting to get out of her ropes, and it made you smile inside, because she had just been waiting for the right moment. you struggled with the White Leg, he was planted into the sand firmly, and without a free hand to reach for your own daggers, you were stuck like this. so, you went to one knee, letting go of his neck and tackling him from the waist to the sand. you went so fast that you knocked him with a good strength, winding him. you snatched the knife from him, turning it to him. the girl was free of the cloth in her mouth, and was panting. you looked at her momentarily before plunging the knife into the White Leg’s neck, leaving it there. as he drowned in his own blood, you stood up, approaching the girl. she shied away, curling up into a ball, but you held out your empty hands to her. carefully, you set one hand on the rope and started undoing it for her, and she uncurled, holding her bound hands out to you. you made quick work of the rope, then helped her to stand. she stared at the body of the fourth White Leg with something indescribable in her eyes. whether it was fear or interest, you weren’t sure. in the best Dead Horse dialect you could manage, you asked the girl if she was okay. she didn’t reply at first, just stared at the bodies surrounding you both. in less than five minutes you’d downed four White Legs, and she couldn’t seem to comprehend it. she was too young to witness any of this, to experience being snatched from her mother like that. you still had yet to determine where the blood trail had come from, and looked over the girl once, then twice. “the blood, it’s yours, or theirs?” you asked, making hand gestures. she pointed to the one you’d just fought and you examined his body. there, you saw it, a cut on his ankle. the girl said something about a rock in her hand, how she’d managed to hit his foot when they first grabbed her. you let out a shaky breath you weren’t even aware had been holding itself back. thank the Gods or whatever watched over you that the girl had been unharmed. you opened your arms to her, and she let you pick her up. picking your way over the bodies, retrieving your rifle, you started the walk to the wooden house on the hill.

••●••••●••••●•• a faint light from within the house on the hill made you suspicious. you approached without the girl at first, leaving her with your daggers, but after seeing Follows-Chalk through the window, you returned with the girl. she had grown quite fond of your daggers, so you let her hold onto them. you knocked on the door, and Follows-Chalk opened it, ushering you both inside. you were about to start arguing for the need to alert Joshua of the White Legs growing threat when the mother you’d found sobbing hours earlier scooped her child up in tears and held her tight to her chest. you went quiet, taking your dusty cowboy hat off, and letting the mother and girl have their moment. Follows-Chalk motioned for you both to step outside, and you followed his lead. once stood in the cover of the house, you began talking. “thank you for this.” Follows-Chalk said, trying to lower the stuffiness of the air between you. “you know, I could care less if Joshua punishes me for this. what I don’t like is that he can’t trust his own people when there’s a war on. I mean, bringing innocent, defenceless children here? that is the most absurd idea I have ever seen, and trust me, I’ve seen some shit.” you were boiling with anger, to put it lightly. Follows-Chalk recognised this, and put a placating hand on your shoulder. “I feel your anger, and you are right. we must act to survive in this war, not put others in danger. I will speak to Joshua honestly, I will tell him what you have said, and the mother will be dealt with.” you nodded, letting your fingers drag down your face to try and get the dust and sand off of your skin. it had been a long day, all you wanted to do was wash up in the river with Joshua. “it was dangerous, I see that now, but I also see the love and fear that mother carries each day for her little girl.” Follows-Chalk spoke again, quieter this time. you looked at him with tired eyes. “I understand that, I do, but do you know how I tracked the White Legs and the girl?” Follows-Chalk stayed silent. “blood. a tiny blood trail leading up into the mountain, and I feared the whole way that it was hers. she actually hit one of them on the foot, thank God.” you closed your eyes, and your head tilted towards the sky ever so slightly. whoever was up there had been merciful tonight. “so yes, the mother will be dealt with, and no more children will set foot in this camp while the White Legs still exist. I don’t care who organised the travel of this girl with the messenger, but it is never happening again.” with that, you headed back inside to rest until daytime arrived. Follows-Chalk knew that he was going to have to give the mother’s name to Joshua Graham when he returned. Follows-Chalk also knew that he’d have to tell Joshua that he’d been the one to allow the girl to visit with the messenger, and that you had no idea about any of it being planned for when Joshua would be absent from camp. it had all been too good to be true: Joshua was leaving you in charge, he had a soft spot for you, the messenger was arriving a day later, the mother had already been planning to abandon the war and take her child far away, but instead a simple visit with her only child would suffice her urges, keeping her in camp for longer and aiding in the war effort. poor Follows-Chalk had meant well, but it had all gone horribly wrong. if you hadn’t been here... that girl would never have come back to her mother alive and in one piece. as Follows-Chalk let his mind run with guilt, you were sleeping soundly in the wooden house. you only woke up to see the girl off with the messenger as the night retreated from Zion. Follows-Chalk then escorted you and the mother back to camp at the crack of dawn, and you retired to Joshua’s area of Angel’s Cave for some much needed wind down time. you properly cleaned your rifle, washed the grime out of your clothes, slept for a very long time. you had also asked that the mother was reduced to carrying out menial duties in the camp until Joshua returned and could assess and deal with the situation himself. the entire time you were back in camp with Joshua still absent, Follows-Chalk was brimming with unspoken guilt about being the person behind the entire plan, yet every time he caught sight of you leaving Joshua’s area of the cave, the confession died on his lips. instead, he busied himself with other duties around the camp, hoping that guilt would either die off or force him to confess. ••●••••●••••●•• three days since Joshua’s scouting mission and he had returned. untouched by the enemy, and desperate to see that the Dead Horses camp was still intact, he arrived late at night, putting off another night of sleep to make it there as soon as he could. in truth, he hadn’t slept well at all being out of camp, and without you. though he’d never admit it now, he needed to see you before he closed his eyes and when he opened them again in the morning. there was something comforting about your face, the way you went about things in your routine. he could sit back and watch you all day, every day, doing the most mundane of tasks. when he sloshed up the river, alerting the camp guards who were assigned the night shift, they ran out to meet him. they welcomed him, offering him fresh water. he declined, telling them he was heading straight to Angel’s Cave to rest and that he would speak to everyone in the morning. but, when he entered his area of Angel’s Cave, and saw you fast asleep, he felt as if he was intruding. nothing about Angel’s Cave had changed while you’d been in charge, yet Joshua could feel your presence more heavily in here than when he’d left. so, he slept outside with the night guards as they changed shift, leaving you to sleep. that morning it was a sight to behold for Joshua as you slowly came out of Angel’s Cave and into the sunlight in your night clothes, with messy hair, for water and food. you had made a habit of joining the Dead Horse members for food during the day to feel closer to them, and show that you were just as human as they were. eating together was something all humans did when living in groups, right? they enjoyed your company regardless, either teaching you words or asking you countless questions as the sun got higher and the air hotter. the women had also started doing your hair before you got dressed so it didn’t get in your face when you left the camp. they still did it even with Joshua being the one out of camp this time, which made you smile. Follows-Chalk had followed shortly after you, patting you on the shoulder as he took a seat beside you. “I had a thought last night,” you said to Follows-Chalk, “I should be the one to tell Joshua. I can’t let you be the first person he hears that from, it should be me. it happened under my watch, after all.” Follows-Chalk felt that thick, hard to swallow guilt creeping back up his throat. he opened his mouth to speak, but instead found himself nodding in agreement, like a coward. he greatly respected and feared Joshua Graham, and if you were offering to take the heat... who was he to say no? you both continued eating your morning meal, pausing to sip fresh water, and then you walked into the river to wash. you’d wash in your night clothes, which needed a good scrub, and there was a perfect hidden space you’d found to do it in. you tiptoed around the bank, disappearing into your corner. you let yourself sink into the waters, cold as they were, and felt your night clothes get heavy on your body. the water refreshed you, and you scrubbed at your skin. you felt a sense of peace in your hidden washing spot, out of view from the camp for once. there were always eyes watching you, and that was hard to get used to sometimes. ever since you’d been labelled as Courier Six, it had been nigh on impossible to escape the prying eyes of inhabitants of the Mojave. one of your hopes in coming to Zion with the Happy Trails caravan was that you’d get some time away from those eyes, but it just felt like anywhere you went eyes would be watching you for one reason or another. that was also part of the reason you were anxious to return, you knew that you really shouldn’t be gone from the Mojave for so long because everyone was watching, waiting for the next move to be made. sick of thinking about people’s eyes, you stood up, yout wet night clothes clinging to your body underneath. you began to wring out the water from the material when a figure detached from the shadows, but you relaxed upon seeing the bandages. had he really been there the whole time, watching, waiting? maybe you’d invaded his private spot, mistaking it as an undiscovered gem of the Eastern Virgin river where you could bathe with some privacy. “I didn’t think anyone would be here, sorry.” you smiled awkwardly, still trying to get the water out of your clothes. Joshua didn’t say anything at first, he was too cloaked in the morning shadows cast by the high walls of the valley to make out the expressions underneath those bandages. usually you could tell what he was trying to convey, but from his spot in the darkness, you were struggling to read him. “I actually need to tell you something, it’s important, and bad.” you started walking towards him, dripping wet, hair soaked. he took a few steps to distance himself, and you paused, realising. “I’ll be in the cave when you want to talk.” you half-smiled as you felt what must be discomfort on his end, and quickly got out of his line of sight. what you didn’t know was that he’d been lurking in the river to survey how you acted as a leader, while still being unaware of his return. he’d overheard the vague conversation that you and Follows-Chalk had shared, and that made his mind turn over and over, until you entered the river to bathe. he knew it was wrong, his God would be... what would his God say about watching a woman he was no doubt heavily attracted to bathe in her thin night coverup? he just couldn’t take his eyes off of you, your face, your hair, your exposed skin. and when you finally stood back up? the clothes had hugged you like clouds would an angel from above, and he knew in that moment, that he needed you. ••●••••●••••●•• after waiting more than enough to see you, Joshua finally left the shady banks of the river and entered Angel’s Cave, greeting Dead Horse members as he went. some were surprised to see him, others had heard of his return last night. Joshua entered his part of the cave and found you fully dressed and laying your night clothes out to dry before the fire. he’d never be able to forget that scene this morning. if the book he’d studied and read all of his life had been graced with illustrations, it would be full of you. everything about you was God made and Heaven sent, he was sure of it more and more each day. but, that was his own internal thoughts, and right now he needed to be prepared for bad news. “I returned late last night, but I didn’t want a fuss, so I slept in the camp with the guards.” he said as he entered, catching your attention. you stood up quickly, forgetting the night clothes, and watching his eyes. “I also didn’t know you bathed privately in that area, it was a case of poor timing on my part, I apologise if it made you uncomfortable.” he took a seat at his desk, watching you from across the cave. “uncomfortable? I thought you were going to faint, Joshua. I thought I’d gone against one of your holy rules from that book of yours.” you said it jokingly enough, sitting on the edge of his desk as you did sometimes. he leaned back in the chair, observing you. he could tell that there was truth to your words, and it made him feel hot under the bandages, more than usual. “let us forget it, a mere accident with no harm done.” you nodded, and shuffled to get a better position on the desk. “now, dare I ask...” he let you sigh before you started speaking. “the bad thing in question is quite serious, I won’t deny that, and it happened while you were trusting me enough to watch over the Dead Horses. I feel terrible, believe me-” “Joshua Graham,” Follows-Chalk entered the cave, a set look on his face. “I cannot allow the courier to take the blame for something she did not know about. I am here to tell the truth, and receive the necessary punishment myself.” you jumped off of the table, about to shush Follows-Chalk, when he gave you a look that said one thing. ‘I’m sorry.’ you let him walk past you, head down, and approach Joshua’s table. Joshua was silent, hands tented before his face, elbows resting on the desk. you watched from behind, clueless as to what Follows-Chalk could possibly be about to say or do. “what the courier was about to tell you is in fact my fault entirely, it involved the secret transportation of a child here to see her mother, but yesterday she was taken by White Leg scouts. the courier went after the girl, brought her back to us with no harm done. but, there should never have been a child here in the first place, the courier made me realise that. I asked the courier to lie, to never reveal the child’s visit, but she stood her ground on telling you everything once you returned.” Follows-Chalk was visibly trembling, but kept speaking. you were shocked into utter silence, watching the conversation with wide eyes. “she also was unaware that I had been the person behind the child’s visit, and was about to accept full blame for it happening under her watch, but I am not a coward and will face any punishment given to me.” Joshua had been listening, his bright eyes darting back and forth between you and Follows-Chalk. he’d seen enough truly shocked faces to realise that you had absolutely no idea what was transpiring in front of you. you’d been moments away from putting your neck on the line, yet Follows-Chalk had been brave enough to intervene. though Joshua was furious that a child, a girl, had been brought into the camp in the middle of a war, he couldn’t help but see the emotion in Follows-Chalk’s eyes as he spoke. there had been quiet for a few seconds, no one knew what to say or do next. “who is the parent of this girl? were they aware of the plan?” Joshua asked calmly, Follows-Chalk’s eyes fell to the cave floor. he was about to drop another person in the shit, but it had to be done. “the mother was planning to return to the main camp and flee with her daughter, she feared greatly for her safety. I asked her to stay if I could arrange for her to see her daughter, and she agreed. it was my mistake that a simple visit would... ease her worries, instead it has made her more afraid of the White Legs than ever before.” you were at a loss for words. the mother had been like a ghost around the camp since seeing her daughter off with the messenger... an involuntary hand covered your face as you heard of the mother’s fear. Joshua asked Follows-Chalk to leave, and you couldn’t even get a glimpse of your friend and guide as he left, head down and eyes barely open. the shame was eating him alive. “well...” Joshua stood up, palms flat on the table. you pushed off of the cave wall, slowly walking towards him. “I had no idea...” you began, but anything else you wanted to say just evaporated. an entire plan behind your back, and you were about to take the fall for it. you weren’t even angry at Follows-Chalk, just hurt and sad. Joshua could see the emotions playing on your face, and shook his head once. “do not even begin to attempt to understand what has gone on here today, courier. it was all going to happen one way or another, I can only thank my God that you were here to remedy the situation in my absence.” you couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your lips. “I wondered if your God was watching me when you were gone, you know.” Joshua’s attention was fully on you. “I kept tracking this small blood trail to locate the girl, and the whole time I was expecting the blood to be hers. when I finally found them, she had not a scratch on her, the blood was of her kidnappers.” you let a relieved smile out, “so I thank your God too, or whoever is up there.” Joshua would’ve killed a thousand White Legs just to hear you speak about his God again like that. he’d never forced his own religion and beliefs upon you, but hearing that you were thinking about them as you carried out your revenge lit something deep inside of him. ••●••••●••••●•• for the next few days you found excuses to get out of the Dead Horses camp, finding the atmosphere draining, it never felt like that before, but now it was hard to sit anywhere and not feel eyes on you. you ran useless errands, collected pure junk and returned late at night to sleep. you were awake before anyone else, except Joshua some days, and were well out of camp as the sun made its daily appearance. your mind still hadn’t caught up with what Follows-Chalk had done, and how you were literal seconds away from taking all of the blame. hour after hour, you shook your head as you went over the entire situation again and again in your muddled head. did you approach Follows-Chalk first, thank him for stepping up and admitting his part in it all, or did you continue to avoid him in hopes he’d come to you first? when you returned to camp late one night, and found Joshua still awake, you were desperate to talk to someone about it all, and he was there just sat before the fire reading, as he always did. you stripped off your weapons and outdoor clothes, before standing behind him and reading the book from over his shoulder. “you can borrow it again if you wish.” he said as he turned the page. “unless it gives advice, I don’t think it’ll do me much good.” you sighed, sitting down across from him. “advice?” Joshua probed, eyes not leaving the page of the book. if he dared look at you in the firelight he was sure he’d feel more feelings that he didn’t know the names of. “Follows-Chalk,” Joshua finally lowered the book and stared into the fire. “I avoid him, and he avoids me. I spend hours going over what happened and yet I still don’t know what to do next.” you admitted, shifting to lie on your front, staring into the fire too. Joshua’s eyes dared to glance over, and he felt the image of you cast in the light of the flames being chiselled into his memory. he thought about it for a little too long, because you turned your head ever so slightly to look at him. “are you asking my advice?” he ventured, voice low. “I’m asking for anyone’s advice.” you clarified, scoffing a bit at yourself. a fully grown woman who couldn’t figure out what to do next. Joshua paused, thinking. “my advice would be to go to him.” this surprised you, you had to admit. “I see the look you’re giving me. but, I know that you both bonded quickly, and seeing you both so distant isn’t doing any of us good. go to him, talk it out, fight it if you must, but do not leave this festering between you. what should happen if he is killed tomorrow and the last words you exchanged were untruthful ones?” he made a good point, a very good one, and it had you getting up from the floor and planning your words in your head there and then. “Joshua,” he looked up at you, “thank you.” you marched out of Angel’s Cave and went to track down Follows-Chalk. ••●••••●••••●•• when you returned, Joshua was still sat by the fireplace. you were in much better spirits, and Joshua found this out when you sat right in front of him. he put his book down and saw that you had a dish of water and clean cloths. “we haven’t done this in a while.” you said softly, and your face was so expectant that he couldn’t possibly say no. he started unravelling the bandages and you soaked the cloths in the cold river water. then, he paused. “wouldn’t it be better if we washed your face first, then we use the water for my hands afterwards?” you hadn’t been expecting him to want to wash your face tonight, but nodded and silently passed the bowl over. he went to wrap his hands up again, but you shook your head, and he kept his hands unwrapped. you’d already felt them before, his skin didn’t scare you, your hands were just as different as his in their own way. when he used the wet cloth to glide over your face, his other hand pushing little strands of hair back as he went, your heart both felt at peace and more excited than it had ever been. your eyes closed gently and he made sure to go over each part of your face several times, removing not just surface layers of dust and dirt and sweat, but the hidden and embedded impurities on your skin. he even went over your neck a few times, daring to let his fingertips come into contact with your skin. when he was done, which was after you broke out into a smile as he tried to go over your face a fifth time, and took the cloth out of his hands, he sat back and waited patiently for you. he looked quite relaxed, eyes soft, hands unwrapped, firelight bathing him in a warm glow. you shuffled a bit closer, damp hair pushed back from your face where he’d ran his fingers over your baby hairs to keep them out of your face. he widened his legs slightly to give you some more space as you took his hands and rested them in your lap. the bowl sat beside Joshua, the water more tepid than when you had originally collected it from the river. you took one hand, gently holding it in yours as you took time and delicacy in washing it. you couldn’t imagine what pain he went through every day, but you hoped it got lesser over time. you remembered the ghost stories that were spoken and passed around the Mojave about the Legion and Joshua Graham, the Burned Man. you had imagined some feral man, driven mad from his brush with death by fire, but instead you found a religious one who remained cool, composed and served as a War Chief to a tribe. maybe his second chance at life has resulted in a more strict moral code and outlook on what he’d spent his life doing. what his experience with Ceasar and death had done to him was between him and God, you decided. you had no need to know that. you moved onto the next hand, taking care again as you imagined the pain he must put up with just exposing this small part of him to the world. “you are the only human being to touch me with such care.” he said quietly. his words took you aback, but you smiled. “the only human being?” you asked, his blue eyes found yours. “yes.” you paused, taking in the colour of his eyes. “no one ever touched you... before?” you dared to ask, he didn’t wrap his hands around your neck in response, so you took that as he was letting you ask it, this time around. “there were before, but those weren’t from human beings. the Legion had no human beings in its ranks then, and it never will.” you froze slightly, not expecting him to say the name. “don’t act surprised, I knew that was what you were truly asking.” you placed his hand back onto your lap, wringing out the cloth into the dish. “I just didn’t expect you to say the name... that’s all.” you admitted, sitting back on your heels. it made your heart race, your skin sweat, your mouth go dry just hearing that name, because that was exactly who was waiting for you to make a move back in the Mojave, along with everyone else who had people to fight for them. everyone and their mother wanted the Strip, and you couldn’t let them get it. sure, you had trustworthy and reliable companions overseeing everything for the time being, but once you were back in the Mojave and the word spread... it would be a matter of time until war broke out. Joshua, thankfully, wasn’t as up to date on his news about the Mojave, being the ghost that he was, so he wasn’t aware of your looming fate once you left Zion. you’d half expected Legion assassins to be sent here just to pick you off, but for some reason Caesar hadn’t bothered, unless he truly didn’t know where you’d gone? curiosity got the better of you, against your better judgement, and you looked up to Joshua. he was rewrapping his hands, watching the fire. “would Caesar send assassins after someone he wants dead?” you asked, barely able to speak the sentence. Joshua paused, before abandoning his half-wrapped hands. his eyes pierced yours. you felt incredibly hot. “depends. how badly does this person hinder his plans?” you couldn’t even swallow as you spoke the words. “they’re the only person standing between him and the Strip.” you replied, holding eye contact. Joshua went silent, still. “if they aren’t already dead, then they will be. it’s only a matter of time with someone as ruthless as Caesar.” you nodded, taking the dish as you stood up. Joshua watched as you walked out of Angel’s Cave, tension gripping your body. you got outside, tipping the water away, as you held back a scream. you’d never had to confront Caesar as a real threat because you’d never met the man, or heard anything about him that sounded real, but hearing these things from Joshua Graham himself... you’d never really, truthfully, feared for your life before. but now? you feared for your life, and everyone else in it. ••●••••●••••●•• messyyythoughts © 2022 do not translate without my permission, give credit if you repost, support always welcomed <3

#fallout #fallout new vegas #Fallout NV #fallout nv companions #fallout joshua graham #Joshua Graham #female!reader #female courier #Female Courier x Joshua Graham #messyyythoughts #fallout legion #fallout ncr #courier!reader #courier six

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✨🌸💙 SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING ✨🌸💙 @leah-halliwell92 @writingforcurrentobsessions2 @lonelyridesinecto-one @jedi-archives @boliv-jenta @numetaltrash @thebeckyjolene @pedrito-friskito @dins--djarins @pedropascalsx

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messyyythoughts

NOT AGAIN :,) <333 tagging some lovely blogs and lovelies who’ve interacted with my posts recently!

@starstrucksimp @tales-unique @foggy-isnt-here @nobarkwrites @not-ur-average-fangirl @jupitersaturnapollo @dearlawdimasimp @murdocksmistress @butifnotwhen @valentnee

Are you still writing the Joshua Graham series??

yep, I am indeed! I was just writing up some ideas for part 3 a few days ago actually :) it may be a while until anything final is ready, but do keep an eye out <3

UR NEWEST MATTDAD FIC IS SO GOODDD <33 YOURE SUCH AN EXCELLENT WRITER

you are too kind, thank you so much! your feedback is lovely to hear <3 I did wonder if I made it a bit too 'out there' with the so-called plot twist, but seeing as you enjoyed it, it was obviously worth it :) have a lovely day, as you've made mine fantastic already <333

feedback like this is always welcome to anyone who interacts with my posts, I'm always open to it

on-the-outside

Tag a quality blog, You’re it! Quality doesn’t means that you have a lot of followers, or a lot of messages. It means that you’re nice to other people, and you deserve to be happy. If you get this message, someone is telling you that they love you as you are, and they don’t care how many followers you have. Send this to 15 blogs who deserve it. If you break the chain, nothing will happen. But it’s just good to let someone know that you love them. :)

thank you thank you thank you thank you <3

@pride-potato @geeky-gay-greek @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @fayeisuppose @directlyat-thesun @when-wax-wings-melt @darling-im-the-queen-of-hell @the-end-is-heree @thehometownskeptics @the-pastel-ghost-femboy @nemideia @viere @escapingthereality @i-will-sing-no-requiem @ultravioletmorning--light @fluffylionthoughts @autistic--crows @foundationsretail and everyone else i didn't tag it's very early in the morning

umm0lly

@nemideia @italian-wall-lizard @joshisepic2222 @unstable-drawings @redbunnydragon @i-will-sing-no-requiem @pride-potato @aqueerembrace @directlyat-thesun @lighting-diyas @stressedsnake @all my mutuals!!

i-will-sing-no-requiem

thank you both so much!! <3 @obsessivedaydreamer @escapadeist @poptart-cat-78 @pride-potato @hamiltrashandburritos @asignthatyouarealive @percabethfangirl @eponine119 @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie @theycallme-thejackal @romantic-elegies @directlyat-thesun @roeyliteratiforever @justanotherdragoncat @luckynature @all my mutuals (sorry if i forgot someone!) you're all amazing!

obsessivedaydreamer

awww thank you so much!! <33 i’d tag you back if i could

@eponine119 @my-secret-shame @campingwiththecharmings @tv-mind @milesdanielcharlotte @proved-me-right @across-thestars @hamster-on-fire @all my mutuals!! i love you all sooooo much, and i’m sorry if i missed someone <333

my-secret-shame

@obsessivedaydreamer YOU ARE TOO WONDERFUL ILYSM ♥️

@marcspectrr @pleasurebutton @fdelopera @usaigi @wysteria-clad @wrongwiredmind @welcometostayingawake @joyful-soul-collector @copingchaos @a-formless-entity @effervescent-mulder @khonshuscondemned @eyelessfaces @plantsoulspore @romanarose @despair-with-walnuts @einno-arko @thewayoftheworm @raven-rk @cocodiem

I know I have left so many people out, (my brain) I'm so sorry!

cosmickid-inmotion-deactivated2

Oh jeez oh god oh Christ ME?!?!?!

I’m honored 😭

I love @howaboutcastiel @myfandomlikesandstories @juneknight @bensolosbluesaber @ninebluehearts @welcometostayingawake @milkymoon2483 @lucianadraven32 @in-between-the-cafes @symbioticskywalker @jake-g-lockley @loki-hargreeves

myfandomlikesandstories

Omfg I'm quality?? Thank you so much 🥺🥹

@writingforcurrentobsessions2 @luke-o-lophus @marvel-and-mischief @aellynera @drifting-pieces-blog-blog @stormkobra-5 @softlybarnes @scarabgrant @alwritey-aphrodite @dailyreverie

writingforcurrentobsessions2-de

Aw thank youu 🥺🥺

@in-between-the-cafes @romanarose @rmoonstoner @princessxkenobi @micheleamidalajedi @apollo-enthusiast @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @hot-mess-express1 @leithatnight @unspokenmoon @redliquity @wife-of-marc-and-steven @idungoofed @fierytteokbokki @harley15dz

idungoofed

Oh wow this is so sweet, thank you so much 🥹🥰

@insomniamamma @yourcoolauntie @littlemisspascal @softiedingo @miss-mandalorian @heythere-mel @luvpedro @moon-sang @iccedays @dinoflower @something-tofightfor @keldabe-kriff @a-magical-evening @oonajaeadira @mandobi

I know I’ve missed out some people, my brain is poo, but to all my mutuals I love you and you are the quality of qualities 💕

moon-sang

Thx so much!!! ❤️❤️❤️ @darklordofthesimp, @kimm4710, @c1eulahaver, @jedi-archives, @tizylish, @the-house-of-auditore-frye, @mllesquellette, @mauliebear, @alwaysdjarin, @itzleslyyy, @oliviabelova, @erin-is-an-introvert, @dindjarinswhore, @sammersposts, @samanthacookieone

A/N: Anyone who I have missed that has interacted with me in a friendly manner deserves so much love!

virtual hug to y’all 🤗

jasmines-library

Thank you thank you thank you <333

Was also tagged by @micheleamidalajedi so big thanks to them <3

@messyyythoughts @countrymusiclover @localloki @just-dreaming-marvel @anakinskywalkerog @phantomenby @ktrivia @darklordofthesimp @girlgerard @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic @oceansrose2002 @redrosewritingsstuff @theyreonlynoodlesmike @zoeykallus

messyyythoughts

in shock rn, did not expect this on a monday morning... thank u from the bottom of my lil heart @jedi-archives <3 :,) I don’t think I know 15 accounts, but I can happily tag these lovelies who have spoken with me in the past year or so, and given advice or had a friendly chat! also thank u to anyone who interacts with my questionable posts, it means the world to me. I love u all lots, big hugs xxx

@tales-unique, @starstrucksimp, @klauslvr, @hopelesslonelyghost, @pan-dulce135, @kkeessttiiss, @lainessia, @dearlawdimasimp, @jupitersaturnapollo

black and red, part 2.

marvel Matt Murdock + female ballet dancer reader

summary: Matt is running out of time to find the ballerina and her friend. warnings: swearing, character death :(

part 1

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

black and red, part 1.

marvel Matt Murdock + female ballet dancer reader

author’s note: I am so so so happy that the first #mattdad fic received some love, so here is a second one :) thank you for the support, it means a lot to me as always! summary: the ballerina is finally prospering in her life, until her best friend goes missing. warnings: swearing (you have been warned 😟) and minor injury description! part 2

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

she had been sat in the police station for hours. it was overrun with calls and cops, yet no one had spared her a glance since she had reported her best friend’s disappearance. with tired eyes and permanently aching feet, the ballerina glanced at her phone screen again, seeing that it was almost morning in New York city. she had a show tonight, she should’ve been in bed hours ago and waking up soon for her morning routine. but, here she was, waiting to speak with a detective. the ballerina even asked the front desk if there was anyone available at all who would be willing to speak to her, and she was given a rookie cop in return. she tried to explain the situation, but was shot down, and told to forget about her friend as she probably did “a disappearing act over a boy and didn’t want to tell anyone”. the ballerina was then dismissed out of the police station and back into the streets of NYC. she got home as the sun began to rise, and felt utterly helpless and hopeless. she tried to do something to take her mind off of it, tried desperately to believe the cop’s words, but her mind was stuck on her friend. her best friend wouldn’t just up and leave like that without saying something, she knew that. she’d called and texted hundreds of times, and she knew that her friend would’ve picked up after even one phone call. she sat still as a statue in the apartment, thinking about what options she had. the police in NYC were a dead end, she realised that now, the good cops were too busy or too low down the pecking order, and the crooked ones wouldn’t risk upsetting the wrong people just for a lost ballerina. but who else was there? she sat there deep in thought, thinking back to when she was in trouble herself... oh. the masked man. with a jump she got out of her chair, digging around for her mobile in her handbag, and dialling Karen first. when Karen didn’t pick up, she reluctantly stared at the screen for Matthew Murdock’s number. she put the phone back down on the counter, second guessing herself. she hated having to ask him for more help when he’d already done so much for her, but what other options did she have? she was no good at doing detective work herself, and she didn’t know people like Matt did. so, she went for Matt’s number. to her surprise, he picked up before the third ring. he said her name immediately, and she sighed in relief. “I need your help.” she said in a timid voice, her heart beating at a million miles an hour as she waited for his answer. she really hoped she hadn’t interrupted him doing anything important. “where are you?” he asked, rustling sounds coming from his end. “in my apartment. can I come to you?” the ballerina asked, biting one of her nails as she spoke, a habit she never broke. “yeah, of course you can. I can call a cab for you if that’s easier?” he was so good to her, even though her own case had been tied up and was no longer Matt’s problem. the ballerina took the cab to Matt’s place, which she hadn’t actually visited before, and he welcomed her in with a hug. she felt awful for intruding but she really needed his help, she hung up her coat and took off her shoes. he made her a hot drink in his little kitchen and they sat down on the couch together, after the ballerina had calmed down. she was a silent worrier, Matt had noticed, not a loud or physical one. her cues were very subtle, but if you paid attention, they were there. tonight she was picking at her knitted jumper sleeve, avoiding eye contact with Matt as he had taken his glasses off for the evening. “what’s going on? trouble about your case?” he asked, holding his own drink in both of his hands. “no, it’s not me this time. it’s my friend, best friend, really. I saw her after the last show, and then all of a sudden she disappears. I’ve been to her place, called her a hundred times. none of our other friends have heard or seen a thing either, and the police told me to forget about it.” the ballerina realised how unimportant that sounded so she added, “something just isn’t right, Matt, I wouldn’t be here otherwise. we have a strict routine and she’s just totally abandoned it all, not a single word to me.” the ballerina said this all with a wobbling voice, and Matt reached out to her gently. she leant into his side hug, and wiped a few stray tears away, thinking he hadn’t seen them. he felt them, that tiny sliver of sadness amongst a big ball of stress and worry. “I’ll call my friend, he’ll sort everything out. he just needs time to get some information. I’ll give him what I can too.” the ballerina nodded, and when she had finished her hot drink Matt insisted that she stay for the night, so she borrowed Matt’s clean clothes, which did get a smile out of her from how oversized they were. while Matt made a show of doing legal stuff, the ballerina busied herself with daily stretches that she repeated too many times, then a few hundred practice moves. Matt knew she was calming herself through dance, and it both made him fascinated, and worried that she wouldn’t sleep. just as Matt was about to make up some excuse for leaving the apartment so late, the ballerina gave in and collapsed onto the couch. being as quiet as possible, Matt slipped out, and started his hunt. he hadn’t met the ballerina’s best friend before, but he had a pretty good idea of what he was looking for. young girls were being relentlessly targeted in NYC as of late, and this case was no exception. the ballerina had narrowly escaped her own encounter with a boy who’d had evil intentions, and Matt held that victory close to his heart, for he’d never seen someone so defeated be so brave when called upon. it was funny, because Matt had never considered having children, but the ballerina had certainly given him an idea of what it might be like, what it might feel like one day. unfortunately, that life was far off for Matt, especially as he found himself prowling the streets of cold, dark NYC in search for information on the ballerina’s missing friend. ⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰ the ballerina called in sick to her performance that night, and knew that her understudy would be overjoyed at the news, she was always itching for a chance to perform. the ballerina waited as patiently as she possibly could for Matt to return, assuming he had left to go to work as she had intruded on him in the morning hours. he came back at lunch, and told the ballerina to pack a bag at her apartment and come back before night fell. the ballerina knew better than to ask questions, so she did just that. she took the subway home, headphones in, losing herself in the noise of the city. she liked people watching on her journeys around the city, making up lives for the people her eyes landed on. maybe other people looked at her and assumed she lived with two loving parents in some nice NYC apartment, or even a townhouse outside the city where she attended one of those good schools. the ballerina knew immediately that she’d hate that life, pretending like she lived in a happy little family when it was just the opposite. all her dreams of a happy family died when she moved to NYC–– her stop was coming up, so she stopped thinking and started walking. she felt unsafe entering her own place for the first time in a long time, but she was only here to get some things. with a gnawing anxiety she started packing a bag for a few days. she kept going back and forth for things she’d forgotten, simple things like a hairbrush or toothpaste. the floundering ballerina found herself in the middle of her now very messy apartment when her phone rang. she thought nothing of it at first, staring at the screen in mild confusion, it was an unknown number. her head was all muddled, it was wrong to pick it up, but what if it was her friend using someone else’s phone? against her better judgement, she pressed answer.

“listen very closely, we’ve got your little ballerina friend here, and for her safe return we want a bit of cash.” if the ballerina’s blood could’ve frozen and sent her into hypothermic shock, it would’ve. that voice was entirely unfamiliar and yet it was as if she’d heard it in dreams, or nightmares. “how does... fifty thousand American dollars sound?” there were a chorus of agreeing cheers from the other end, and the ballerina felt sick to her stomach. she then heard something she wasn’t expecting. “don’t you dare listen to them! they’ll kill you and me and take the money, just get as far away as you can–” the phone was pulled away from her friend’s voice, but she continued screaming. the ballerina had to steady herself against the wall, feeling as if she wasn’t even in control of her own body. this was not happening. “shut up, bitch!” a different voice bellowed, silencing everything on that end. the ballerina held back gasping breaths as she tried to understand what was going on. having a panic attack was not the move right now. “right, have we got that clear, sweetheart? fifty thousand in cash by tonight, you’re gonna leave it at the address I send you after this call ends. any funny business, police, outsiders, and your friend here dies. I don’t play those games, got it?” the ballerina was at a total loss for words.”can you fucking hear me or is the signal bad at your cushty little apartment?” he asked, quietly, to which the ballerina froze. “fifty thousand?” the ballerina asked, physically shaking. “there she is! you got it sweetheart, just leave it at the address I send you, and no one gets hurt. simple, right?” the ballerina had to bite back her cry before answering. “okay, alright. I... I just want her back, unharmed.” the voice on the other end laughed before replying. “that’s for me to decide, not you. I’ll see you tonight.” the call ended, and the ballerina stared at the wall she’d been leaning on for a good few minutes, processing what she had just agreed to. the address did indeed come through on her phone, from the same unknown number, and she knew it was somewhere in the old industrial part of the city. mostly abandoned warehouses filled with homeless people, or gangs. she went to ring Matt, but remembered the part about involving outsiders. Matt was an outsider, and if the voice on the phone knew he was involved, her friend stood no chance. fifty thousand was... too much money for her to comprehend. she didn’t even have that much, even so, withdrawing all of her life savings at once was sure to raise eyebrows. she had to do it at different banks at different times all by the end of today, then get it ready for tonight. should she take protection with her in case things went sideways? it was probably best... right? but what if they were there and searched her for weapons, finding whatever she’d brought, and killed her there and then? her head span with the choices and decisions she had to make by tonight. there was one thing she knew for certain though, she was getting her friend back alive, one way or another. ⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰ several banks later, the ballerina was almost ready. she changed into more appropriate attire for the cold New York nights, before putting all of the money into a bag and taking the subway to the address. before she arrived, she sent a last minute voice note to Matt, against her better judgement again, about where she was going. he would figure out the rest, she was sure of it. she made sure she sounded okay, not nervy or weak, to try and put him off sending help. Matt was still trying to call her as she stepped off the subway, but she silenced her phone, hid it in her bra and started walking with a bag full of cash and nothing but sheer unrelenting hope that this would play out in her favour. the warehouses were very intimidating, despite their deteriorating condition and emptiness. maybe that was what made them so... haunting. the ballerina tried to get her head straight as she counted the warehouses to make sure she left the money in the right one. there, the one warehouse with boarded up windows and signs of life around it, at the end of the row. to say that the ballerina’s emotional state was a wreck would be an understatement. she had no idea what she felt, it was a huge mix of anxiety, adrenaline, fear, dying hope and an urge to flee while she still could. she paused before entering the warehouse, it appeared to be abandoned on the outside, but once she stepped inside she could have dozens of guns on her. she shook her head, wrenching the door open, and squeezing through the gap she’d made. she barely noticed the massive gash on her hand from where she’d scraped it across the jagged metal door, leaving the potent smell of blood behind her. it was hot dripping from her fingers, but she ignored it. with a grunt, she hauled the bag after her, barely getting it through. the warehouse was eerily empty, and the ballerina didn’t know whether to be relieved or suspicious. she walked to the middle of the building, putting the bag down, and turned to leave when she had a bad feeling. she wasn’t alone, she just knew it, she wasn’t on her own in here. they were somewhere, they were close, but where? she turned back around, and found her answer, as numerous shadows began passing by the back windows. they were coming, and she suddenly felt like the money was the last thing they wanted. how could she let herself get into this situation? she made a break for a window, yanking it open and vaulting over the frame to land in a patch of overgrown shrubbery. the stinging on her face told her that she’d landed in something nasty, and she rushed to get free. shouting from inside the warehouse began, and the ballerina ran. ⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰ Matt listened to the voice message again, trying to discern if it was genuine. the sounds of the New York subway screeching in the back made him think that it was genuine, but someone could’ve had her at gunpoint. gangs were rampant in NYC, and went to extremes to get what they wanted, and that alone made Matt worried. he was now out of his lawyer attire and in the masked man clothes, preparing himself for the worst night of his life. he was equally upset at the ballerina and impressed, he didn’t think she’d have the willingness to travel to a part of the city that was so dangerous, all to get her friend back. he was aware that there was probably cash or something valuable involved in exchange for the friend, as the words ‘drop off’ had implied in the ballerina’s voice message. strangely, he hadn’t heard her voice wavering like it normally did when she was nervous. Matt found that the ballerina’s voice, like so many others, betrayed her emotions at the best of times. some people had the ability to mask that weakness, but the ballerina was almost acutely aware of it, and used it sometimes to get her way. she was more than she appeared, Matt knew that, even if she didn’t. as Matt entered the warehouse district, he caught a gust of wind, and the unmistakable smell of the ballerina’s perfume. she’d heavily overdone it, he knew that instantly by how strong it was. like a dog catching the faintest scent of food, he followed. he arrived at the very last warehouse, on the end, dark, empty. if the ballerina had been here, she was gone now, but not far. he crept into the warehouse, finding it empty, but smelling traces of blood and heavy perfume in the air. he found the start of the blood trail, on a sharp metal doorframe, and followed a dripping trail that led to the basement level, and then abruptly ended by a wall. he retraced his steps, and ended up at the same spot. why did the fresh blood trail end at a brick wall? he scoured high and low in that basement level for more traces of blood, but always ended up at the same wall. in frustration, he punched it, and listened to the sound it made. it was hollow. his fingertips immediately felt around the brickwork for something unusual, something that stood out. he went over the entire wall once, twice. it had to be here somewhere, he was running out of time. there, he just had it. he skimmed his fingers back over, and pushed down, hearing the wall move backwards. what Matt didn’t realise is that what stood before him was a complex network of tunnels. he listened out, hearing faint, faraway footsteps, and entered the tunnels. the wall didn’t move back into place on its own, meaning that someone had to do it from this side, so there had to be several people down here. Matt’s first guess would be gang members, but it could just be some loosely organised punks looking to make some serious cash off of a successful ballerina. whoever it was, they’d picked the wrong target tonight. Matt paused at the first corner. he took a moment to think, at worst, it was going to be a double homicide on his hands, at best he might get one of them back alive. the money wasn’t even in the question at this point, it was probably already gone. he then went deeper into the crudely constructed tunnels, ducking where he had to, and trying his best to follow the distant footsteps. all he could think about was how the ballerina had become so successful and had been prospering in her life. she’d already been ruined once, taken to her lowest possible point, and had come out the other side. Matt was only praying that she could do it again. he remembered attending her first performance. while he couldn’t see it and appreciate it in that way, he felt it, and was every bit as proud as Karen and Foggy were. in fact, he was more proud, not that he would ever say it because Foggy would ask him to prove it and then there would be a whole thing about it. but, Matt was proud, and he was reminded of how proud he felt of his dad when he won a boxing match. that feeling was a long forgotten one, and somehow the ballerina had reignited it. Matt paused at a corner, hearing voices neary. they were much closer than the footsteps he’d been tracking. the voices were idly chatting, obviously bored. Matt picked up on what they were saying. “but man, these tunnels? they go way back, I swear. my old man used to brag about running all sorts through here, and the cops had no fuckin’ idea!” the first one laughed. “man, I wish we knew about these sooner, could’ve saved us a lot of trouble.” the other one replied, sighing. “we lost a lot of guys recently, cops are cracking down. if they found out about these tunnels, we’d be really fucked.” the first guy tutted. “they won’t, we hid ‘em after the last raid. cops thought they blew up the lot, but we had backups already dug out.” they both started laughing now, that was when Matt revealed himself around the corner and surprised them both. before they had the chance to pull out their guns, they were down. they both sported an abundance of tattoos, some of which were very clearly gang related. they wore black and white, also pointing towards a gang affiliation. Matt sighed, kicking away the guns in case they got back up later. so, the cops had previously tried to end the use of these tunnels by blowing them up, but it hadn’t worked? well, Matt knew exactly how to fix that.

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰ one phone call later, and the police were swarming the tunnels. Matt had removed himself well before making the call, and watched in satisfaction as the police turned up in vans and SWAT teams. they entered through the warehouse Matt had used, and started flushing out the gang members from every possible angle. all across the city gang members were on the run, having heard the news from those who had been chased out of the tunnels or caught. the police were doing a lot of shooting on sight, which meant less work for Matt when they cleared out. Matt re-entered the tunnels with caution as the police were still active down there, clearing out rooms full of drugs and guns. some gang members were still hiding, or running, around the network and warning others to get out. Matt knew that the ballerina had to be down here somewhere, her scent was lingering in his head like she’d been here, but only for a short amount of time. she was smart to use the perfume as she had, it left a temporary trail for Matt, but no one else. he followed it, but it got him nowhere, and the police were getting closer as they advanced through the tunnels. Matt had to listen out for fleeing gang members, roaming police teams and any possible signs of the ballerina. it was exhausting, but only he could save her now. he was holding onto scraps of hope after avoiding close encounters with the police teams down here, when his foot scuffed something. metal, it made a nice ringing noise as it scraped across the concrete. he bent down, getting a feel of it, and realised with a start that it was the ballerina’s bracelet. he’d gifted it to her after one of her shows, he’d picked it out for her with Karen’s input one day. he’d know it anywhere, and this was definitely it. the ballerina was down here, she must’ve been. he tucked the bracelet away in his pocket, and kept walking the tunnel he was in. he was going to find her and bring her home safe. ⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

#matt murdock fic #messyyythoughts #female!reader #will be using mattdad from this day forward #matt murdock being a dad #daredevil #marvel daredevil #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #mattdad #ballerina!reader #reader is a ballerina #black and red #part one #black and red part one #we love matt murdock

just read your joshua graham fic and you write so well!! can't wait to see how joshua and courier's relationship develops from there <333 have a great day :D

oh wow, I wasn’t expecting this!

thank you for this lovely comment!!! you’ve made my day, kind Internet stranger, I hope your day is fabulous in return <3

and about the courier and Joshua Graham… I’ve been thinking for ages about where to take it, and I think I finally know where it will go, now I just have to write it :,)

Dr. Strange’s apprentice.

marvel Stephen Strange + gender neutral apprentice reader

this post should read as reader being gender neutral and of a teen age, please message me if it doesn’t and I will make necessary amends! author’s note: I tried this idea out after seeing Spider-Man: No Way Home and then didn’t like it so I forgot about it, but seeing Multiverse of Madness kind of made me think about it again... so here it is. I’d recommend that you have watched both films (and definitely Avengers: Endgame!) just to be sure nothing is spoiled at all. summary: Stephen Strange does NOT like having an apprentice. you are said apprentice. need I say more?

warnings: none really <3

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

#messyyythoughts #stephen strange #doctor strange #doctor stephen strange #dr strange #multiverse of madness #marvel #marvel dr strange #benedict wong #wong #benedict cumberbatch #headcanon #marvel headcanons #strange's apprentice #apprentice #gender neutral reader #apprentice!reader

chaos walking , part 3.

star wars: the bad batch x female chaos magic user

summary: after your first adventure with Clone Force 99, Kenobi needs your help. the Bad Batch step in to help when it’s clear you’ve pushed yourself too far this time. warnings: descriptions of physical injury, reader in pain as per usual tbh mando’a translations (http://mandoa.org/) jaro - death wish, insane act of reckless stupidity mesh’la - beautiful

part 1 part 2

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“I’m fine, just help me out will you?” You cried out, nearly collapsing onto Wrecker, but he stayed steady behind you like a foundation of a good house. Tech and Cross went haywire on the controls, setting them to this and that. The ship’s comms were suddenly alive with chatter, as the clones stationed on the planet were giving advice to Hunter on how to navigate the atmosphere and complete the crash landing. As Hunter relayed the information to Tech and Crosshair, Wrecker took on every bit of weight that you were dumping on him. It was a tense few minutes of loud noises, shouting orders and blood running until you broke the atmosphere. The cruiser started to shake and rumble as it broke the planet’s atmosphere, sending everyone on the bridge tumbling about with nothing to hold onto. You felt Wrecker grab onto a nearby console to hold your position, and you strained to stay in place. Your body temperature was getting higher and higher, you momentarily thought about making your clothes disintegrate, but then decided against it. You started to slow the descent of the cruiser by pulling back on it with all of your magic, your hands almost cramping into place with the force you were exerting. Chaos magic was spilling from your hands as bright as the stars, and had completely enclosed the cruiser, taking over all directional control of it. Wrecker’s massive hands carefully moved into place behind yours, and he held on, despite the rampant chaos magic coming from yours. You were holding back the most unhinged scream as the cruiser finally made contact with the planet’s surface, sending a reeling shockwave through you. You didn’t falter once as the planet’s debris flew up and collided with the cruiser, in fact it actually helped to slow the crash. The lights went out, leaving you in the dark, but you kept going with only the light from your hands to guide you now. You pulled and pulled until you were sure the cruiser was at a slow enough speed that it wouldn’t move on its own anymore. The screeching sound stopped, and it was replaced by a stark silence. Nobody moved. Your hands stayed in place, now totally still but empty of magic. Each member of the Bad Batch turned to look at you, no words at the ready, just a variation of stares. Kenobi’s voice came over the comms. You got up, every single inch of you about ready to implode, and pressed the button to answer.

“Kiss my ass, General Kenobi, I’ll see you when you get down here.” You then let your head roll backwards and gave your body the signal to shut off for the recovery. Wrecker caught you, holding you to him in his arms, which hurt like nothing else from being in contact with your magic. Hunter’s hands also hurt, as if they’d been burned, but there was no damage done to them. You weren’t trying to actively harm either of them, so they’d escaped with minimal injury. Sometimes you had control over the magic, and it seemed like you had won today in more than one respect. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. The Bad Batch loyally guarded and stubbornly stayed by your bedside for weeks. You’d fallen into a coma, of your own doing, and this wasn’t the first time either. It had happened on a few rare occasions before, as witnessed by both Kenobi and Skywalker, but they’d never seen you in such a bad way this time. Each of them came to visit, both having to convince the Bad Batch that they knew you and meant no harm, which proved more difficult than they expected. Being Generals of the Republic’s army meant nothing to the Bad Batch, as it so happened. Kenobi was stopped at the door for being the one who ordered you to save the cruiser, even though you’d done it of your own accord, and once he had explained this he was allowed entry. He dutifully brushed out your hair as you lay there asleep, and braided it slowly to make sure there were no knots or tangles. The Bad Batch watched him with a veiled interest, Tech especially, as he had never seen you wear your hair like this before. Kenobi updated you on all of the clone battalions that he knew of, some were stationed too far away to receive any real updates on, so he promised to check on them for you when he had a spare moment. After Kenobi had sorted out your hair, he washed your face and neck with a cloth and warm water. He made sure to get every spot, gentle as ever, talking to you the entire time. He knew that you could sense his energy nearby, and that you’d be thankful he’d been there when you finally awoke. He then told the lingering Bad Batch that after your first coma, you’d awoken in fits of screams and delirium, claiming that no one had sat with you and talked to you the whole time you were out. It was true, apart from the odd visit from Skywalker who’d been the closest one to you when it happened. Kenobi and Ahsoka had been too far away to come and visit, but they were just as horrified when they heard the news through Skywalker. So, from that moment, the Bad Batch had one of them sat by your side. Tech made a habit of reading out his notes to you from when he’d studied you, and once he got through those, he moved onto hefty textbooks of theories and hard science. It bored the others to sleep without fail each time, but inside you were clinging onto Tech’s voice like it was a rope and you were dangling above a dark pit. Even though you would never fully understand what he was saying, it made you feel like you weren’t totally alone. When it was Hunter’s turn to sit next to you, he took to drawing on your arms and palms. He used a washable ink pen and would decorate your exposed skin with whatever was in his head at the time, he’d even talk you through the meanings of the drawings, no matter how nonsensical it sounded. He always made sure to put the names of the Bad Batch in there somewhere, and yours. It was often the medical droid’s job to wash the ink away after Hunter had been sat by your side all day. Wrecker liked telling you his favourite stories of battle, and he had a new one each time he sat by you for the day. Some of them were so outlandish that even Tech questioned him sometimes, but you were enjoying the stories regardless. Wrecker was a great storyteller, using his tone and strange sound effects to bring the story to life for you. He knew exactly how to create tension and suspension by waiting a few seconds before telling the climax of the story, or a twist to the plot. Crosshair always criticised Wrecker’s stories for being inaccurate to the truth, but you didn’t care. When Crosshair sat next to you, however, he struggled to do so much... talking. He tried reading something out once, but it sounded bad, and he stopped abruptly. He found something else to do instead, he would draw out battle plans on your arm with his fingers. He could see it all in his head, it just needed finalising on your forearm or the palm of your hand. He’d explain some parts to you before grumbling and starting over again because he wanted to try something else. He even used little paper clones once to really simulate the battle for you on your arm and hand, which made the others smirk, but Crosshair paid them no attention. Skywalker’s visit had been a tense one. He nearly scrapped on the spot with Crosshair trying to gain entry to your room, but Hunter let him through. When he saw you, his face went icy, and he took a seat next to you. The words he spoke were too low for anyone but Hunter to hear, but he chose to ignore them when he got the idea of what Skywalker was saying. Skywalker stayed there for a while, holding your hand in his, eyes closed. An eerie quiet had settled in your room, and the Bad Batch soon found themselves finding excuses to leave. They didn’t go far, only down the hallway, but whatever mood Skywalker was in, they did not feel like tussling with him right now. Kenobi had been somber, but respectful, Skywalker was fuming and looking for a reason to fight. Someone needed to get him back out to the battlefield soon otherwise he’d start going for his own men. But, after an hour or so, he up and left your room without a word to the Bad Batch. They came back in to see you unmoved, asleep just as you had been when they left you. Now, they just had to pass the time until you woke up. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. “That woman has a jaro, I’m telling you.” Hunter said with a shake of his head. The Bad Batch had been discussing your other greatest feats, and Tech was readily compiling a list for further debate. “Who just decides to stop a cruiser like that?” Hunter carried on, “no one but her.” He scoffed. Crosshair watched the conversation in silent interest, having already found a new respect for you after witnessing you successfully crash land the cruiser. “I think the cruiser is my favourite one, I helped with that one.” Wrecker announced from your bedside, having paused his wild story to give his opinion. “Wrecker, your personal involvement does not contribute to the greatness of the feat.” Tech sighed, tapping away at his pad. Wrecker shrugged before continuing his story. Crosshair was about to interject when the ship’s internal alarms started going off, signalling that the enemy was approaching. A rush of footsteps from the clones going to their stations went past, and then a rumble went throughout the ship. They’d been hit. “We need to get her ready to move if this ship goes down.” Hunter shot out of his seat, only to find that your eyes were opening, and you were sitting up in your bed. “Maker above...” “Are we seriously getting attacked right now?” You sighed, getting out of bed and heading for the door with renewed energy. They all watched on in absolute disbelief, before scrambling out of the door to follow you. You moved fast at full health, they had to jog to keep up. You reached the bridge, being greeted with applause, which you quickly silenced with a single finger to your lips. “I can’t be in a coma for more than a few weeks and we’re getting bombed by the enemy? Really, guys?” You shook your head. Your messy braid was coming undone where none of the Bad Batch had dared to take it out after Kenobi had so carefully done it. “Give me a visual someone.” You called out, body positively thrumming with the need to get out there and rip some people apart. “Uh, excuse us,” Tech pushed past the crowd of clones on the bridge, and tapped you on the shoulder, “are you quite alright?” You nodded with a wink. The clones had identified the oncoming enemy pilots for you. With little more than a bent finger and a wisp of chaos, you sent the ships tumbling through space into balls of flame, veering off course and missing their shots entirely. You got a rush from this, no matter how many times you did it, because the clones around you were safe and you were taking out the very thing that would kill them. “Mesh’la...” Wrecker said behind you, as he watched the firework display of ships exploding and plummeting to their demise. You didn’t even need both hands, just one finger. The first wave had been entirely demolished, and the second wave was already retreating, much to your disappointment. Maybe you went too hard on the first ones, scared them off. It wouldn’t be the first time. You lowered your finger, smiling in satisfaction as the clones cheered. Nothing made you happier than seeing them alive, and winning. You turned to leave, and when Hunter asked where you were going now, you told him that unless the new uniform was a hospital gown, you were getting a change of clothes. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. messyyythoughts © 2022 do not translate without my permission, give credit if you repost, support always welcomed <3

#messyyythoughts #injury detail #description of injury #chaos magic #chaos magic reader #female!reader #chaos witch #chaos walking #chaosmagicuser!reader #chaoswitch!reader

anything, part five.

star wars: the bad batch Hunter x female reader

summary: the Bad Batch go to great lengths in order to see you recover. warnings: a few swear words... 😔

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. The medicine wasn’t primarily manufactured on Naboo, it was shipped in from Coruscant. When the Bad Batch learned this, they all knew what they were signing up for. But, the plan was in motion now, and nothing except death would stop Hunter from getting that medicine and delivering it to you. Hunter would lead the infiltration, with Wrecker and Tech as backup. Omega was in charge of locating the medicine, and Echo was in charge of the escape plan. As per usual, Omega had to beg to be allowed on the mission, but Hunter sternly refused. She would only blow their cover, unfortunately, and needed to stay with Echo on the Havoc Marauder to make their story look as convincing as possible. With the disguises and fake identities in the works, the Bad Batch took off from the hospital. The nurse who had been keeping an eye on you watched them take off, and shook her head, thinking they had finally abandoned you after hearing the cost of your treatment. She didn’t have much faith in these types, those who travelled rather than settled, but she tried not to hold prejudices against her patients and their families. She sat by your bedside, and started to read her book, she was on her lunch break and kept you company whenever she could. You had yet to stir, mainly because of the remaining traces of poison in your system. Your vitals weren’t ideal, but you could be considered stable, for the time being. Unless the doctors could determine exactly what was poisoning you, they could only give you small doses of common drugs to alleviate your symptoms. The nurse asked each day in the lab if they had yet to determine what the poison was made up of, but they still didn’t have a solid answer. There were so many ingredients that it seemed impossible to accurately pinpoint and therefore name the poison. The working theory at the moment was that it was a new type of poison, manufactured by someone who had nothing but the intention to kill. Had that poison been given more time to get into your system, you’d likely be dead or in a coma by now. You could be in a coma now, for all the nurse knew. There was minimal external activity from you since you’d been brought in, but the nurse was deeply hoping that would soon change, and you’d open your eyes. The nurse’s lunch break came to an end, and she gave you one last look over before leaving your room. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. The flight to Coruscant was tense. Echo exploited every hyperspace route he knew, even ones he didn’t fully trust. It took a day to get near Coruscant, and in that time Tech had completed the disguises and fake identities. Omega had used delivery logs to pinpoint the exact warehouse that would hold the medicine, and Echo had constructed a fairly convincing backstory. Hunter, Wrecker and Tech would pose as representatives for a new trading company that wanted to strike a secret deal with the owners of the warehouse. They would swipe what they needed once inside, and then get the fuck out of there while suspicions were still low. The hours in hyperspace were spent planning and rehearsing. Omega acted as the enemy, asking strange questions that Tech somehow managed to answer. Hunter and Wrecker agreed that it was best to let Tech do the trade talk, with Wrecker acting as a bodyguard and Hunter as the silent observer. The only tricky part of the plan was that this meeting was not scheduled, it was going to be completely random, out of the blue. That would set suspicions on edge to begin with, but hopefully things would simmer down once the talking started. In the ship, everyone could sense that Echo was not a great fan of this plan. But, he realised that he wasn’t being fair to you by acting all high and mighty. Thankfully, Omega had made him see that, and now he was sure of the ends justifying the means. If stealing a bit of expensive medicine happened to make you better, he could live with that. He’d fought in a war his entire life where he had to make questionable decisions in seconds, so this was really no different. Hunter was just itching to start the mission, and Wrecker was right behind him. Tech remained cool, going over the plan in his mind another time just to make sure it was perfect. They needed the lowest risk of complications to even hope about making it out alive together. He continued doing the calculations in his head in focused silence in the bunks. Echo and Omega were the support this time, staying on the ship, being the only ones who could get the other three out of trouble should they somehow fuck up. Everyone had their part to play, just like normal. As Coruscant came into view, the Bad Batch settled into their mission mindsets. Each one was strikingly different, and if you could have documented the changes that you often witnessed in the five members when it was time to work, the results would’ve been... strange, but fascinating. Echo was up first, with Omega assisting, and he successfully got past the initial radio check. The ship landed in the shipping district, the first step of the plan was complete. Next, Hunter, Wrecker and Tech in their disguises slipped out of the ship, and into the bustling warehouses. They did receive a few odd looks, but no one called them out. Echo and Omega watched on from the ship in quiet tension, listening out for updates via the comms from the trio. Hunter and Wrecker followed behind Tech as they entered the warehouse flagged up by Omega, and slipped inside the back entrance. “I’m hopeful that we can avoid interacting with anyone and just get straight to the crates.” Tech went quiet as two warehouse workers ambled by, chatting idly. They didn’t even acknowledge the trio, they probably weren’t paid enough to deal with strange individuals wandering about the warehouse. “Let’s get a move on before someone who cares spots us.” Hunter said lowly, ushering them between the stacks of crates to get some cover. Wrecker had to squeeze between the towers of crates sideways to avoid toppling them all over with his shoulders. Tech took out the crumpled note that Omega had given him, she had scribbled down about the serial numbers of the crates that contained the medicine just in case Tech forgot. Tech hadn’t forgotten, but he read it again just to be sure. “The crates should be up ahead, keep an eye out while I find the serial number.” Tech crouched down by the crates and started examining the sides for the printed serial numbers. Wrecker was absolutely squished between the towers of crates, and Hunter was struggling to keep a track of all of the sounds and smells around the warehouse. Echo and Omega stayed sitting in the ship, keeping a track of who came in and out of the warehouse. Things seemed to be going well, albeit a bit slow, until a squad of Stormtroopers jogged past the warehouse. Echo reclined in his seat, letting the shadows obscure his face, Omega slowly lowered herself to the floor, having the most noticeable features of the Bad Batch with her striking blonde hair. “Boys, we’ve just seen a squad of Stormtroopers going past the warehouse, be on the lookout.” Echo said over the comms, his eyes following the group of white as they passed. Omega peeked over the controls and felt her heart hammering in her chest, and she wasn’t even on the mission. Echo started pressing the buttons that would prepare the ship for takeoff, but kept the engines off. Omega was thinking the same thing, as she slid off of the chair and went to find refuge in the bunks instead. “Alright, Tech’s just found the crate, we’re gonna bust it open now.” Hunter replied, obviously keeping his voice down as they weren’t alone in that vast warehouse. Workers were milling about, forklifts were transporting goods across the warehouse every minute. How the trio hadn’t been spotted and called out yet, no one knew. Maybe the workers were turning a blind eye to the three men in shifty outfits cracking open one of the crates, or maybe they were too scared to confront them with the new rule of the Empire being introduced. Times were certainly strange, Hunter knew that, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. “Echo, you got eyes on those troopers? I don’t like being so close to them.” Hunter asked, as Tech passed him several glass vials of a clear liquid that had a very odd name. Tech replaced the lid of the crate and then nodded to the other two, signalling that they could get the fuck outta there. Wrecker started to lead the way back through the towers of crates, but they all went still at the unmistakable sound of comm chatter from a Stormtrooper up ahead. Each of the three men ducked into the shadows, as the squad walked past, guns in hand, and apparently searching for some suspicious characters. Hunter held back a hefty sigh as he realised what the situation had devolved into. It was either sneak out, or shoot out, and Hunter knew which one it would likely end up being. Wrecker was struggling to stay hidden due to his size, and Tech was desperately trying to formulate a plan that would get the three of them out of the warehouse in one piece. Hunter started drawing his knives out, and Wrecker followed suit with his blaster from his back. Tech did not pull out any weapons, not yet, but he probably would have to. “We leave one at a time, the workers should be coming back on shift soon, we can blend in with them and make our way back to the ship unnoticed.” Tech said in a hurry, to which Hunter thought about it, and slowly returned his knives to their holders. Wrecker sadly put his blaster back, hiding it under his cape. The three of them waited in silence for the workers to start returning, and as the buzzer sounded to signal the beginning of the shift, the trio split up and started walking. Tech joined the back of a group making their way out of the warehouse, and then went the other way towards the ship. He successfully boarded and threw off the disguise, sitting in the pilot’s seat and finding that Echo had already warmed the ship up. “Did you... warm up my ship?” Tech asked in surprise as Echo waited by the door for the other two. “I did.” Echo replied, not picking up on the tone in Tech’s voice. “the Stormtroopers spooked us.” Echo added quietly, unholstering his blaster. Wrecker ambled out of the warehouse on his own, but then ducked underneath a steel beam being carried by two workers. Without thinking, Wrecker lifted the beam up on his shoulder and carried it to the other steel beams that were being piled up outside of the warehouse for exportation. The two workers thanked him by tipping their caps at him and he smiled before strolling off towards the ship. To Tech and Echo’s amazement, Wrecker left the warehouse unnoticed. “That’s how you do it.” Wrecker said smugly as he ripped off the cape and discarded it. Echo kept a look out for Hunter, but couldn’t spot him in the groups of workers. “Hunter, come on.” Omega said from beside Echo, having crept up behind him to try and watch for Hunter. Inside of the warehouse, Hunter was held up by two Stormtroopers that were talking to some workers by the exit he had been aiming for. Hunter watched as the workers slipped something to the Stormtroopers before walking off, grins plastered on their faces. Hunter turned around slowly, and started walking the opposite direction to where the Stormtroopers were stood. He slipped between the crates again, getting lost in the maze of boxes. He pulled his hood down to try and get a better understanding of his surroundings, and felt the weight of the remaining vials of medicine in his pockets. He needed to get back to the ship, with the medicine, but the Stormtroopers were posing a huge threat. That’s when Omega’s voice came over his comms. “Hunter, there’s more Stormtroopers coming into the district, you need to make a move!” Hunter sighed, and replied. “I’m on it, Omega, I promise.” He took a glance around the crates and saw that the warehouse floor was packed with workers, and the odd few Stormtroopers. Maybe they were doing random checks in this area today, on orders of the Empire no doubt. Hunter took a chance, and slipped out of the crates to make his way to a back exit that had been propped open with an empty crate. He bumped into a worker, but briefly apologised, and kept moving. The worker then spoke to Hunter. “Hey, do I know you?” His accent was thick, and Hunter stopped walking. He was steps away from the door, only a walk away from the ship. “Hey.” Hunter half turned, showing his face. “Oh, my bad, sorry man.” The worker waved him off and carried on going. Hunter put the hood back up as he entered the open air, and briskly walked to the ship. He spotted Echo waiting by the door, but he looked serious. Hunter picked up some comm chatter behind him, and realised that he’d been followed. Echo nodded subtly and Hunter rested a hand on his blaster concealed under his cape. The world seemed to slow as Hunter got closer to the ship, and Echo took another step down. The only thing Hunter could hear was his pounding heartbeat and amplified nerves. He picked up on Echo’s raised heart rate, he could hear Omega’s faintly from inside the ship. Then, as if by absolute luck, the Stormtroopers turned a corner and carried on their route with little interest in Hunter. Echo let out a breath he had been holding, and Hunter darted inside of the ship, handing the medicine over to Omega. Disguises abandoned and everyone safely on board, Tech took off. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. Omega counted the bottles and reported that they had stolen enough to hopefully cover the majority of your treatment cost. By saying those words, it was as if the collective tension of the ship dissipated, and each member was finally able to collapse. The hyperspace journey back was a bit longer as fuel ran short and Tech took the traditional hyperspace routes compared to Echo’s riskier ones. Omega slept in her bunk, as did Hunter, but he wasn’t really asleep. He felt as if he was burning alive as he lay there, in his bunk where you had basically been dying in front of his eyes. His eyes remained wide open, even as Wrecker entered the bunks to sleep, followed by Echo and eventually Tech for a short while. Hunter had fond memories of you in the bunks, especially when you’d swore you could sleep on the floor instead of taking one of the designated bunks away from the boys. He found you awake an hour later, reading a book you’d chosen at some junk shop on the last planet they’d landed on. Hunter offered his bunk to you, but you politely declined several times. It was then that he’d stretched across two chairs and closed his eyes. “What are you doing?” You asked, a smile on your lips. “Getting some shut eye, you should too.” He replied, hiding his grin as you sighed and took your single blanket and book to his empty bunk. You would never admit this to him, but the smell of him in his bunk was comforting, and the pillow he used was old but somehow familiar. You got comfortable, and finished reading your page before falling asleep with the book laying flat on your chest. Hunter smiled sadly as he remembered that night, on one of the longest hyperspace journeys ever. It wasn’t really that long, but you’d just joined them, and he was struggling to get his mind off of you. All of them weren’t used to having a woman in close quarters, but Hunter found it somewhat challenging to adjust. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you, he actually was very fond of you, it was how everything about you stood out like a shining star against a dark night sky. He was used to his brothers, and their ways. The way Echo shifted in his sleep when he was having nightmares, how Wrecker snored so loudly, and Tech mumbled in his sleep even though he swore he didn’t. But you? You slept like a log once you were out. It was nearly impossible to disturb you. Once you were asleep, Hunter could pick up on your breathing patterns much easier than anyone else’s, he could also feel when you were about to stir and finally stretch your arms out, and say that raspy good morning to everyone. Hunter didn’t realise that he was on the verge of tears as he remembered that night and those things about you. He closed his eyes and turned onto his side, trying to block out the senses around him and get some shut eye like he’d once told you to do. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. Tech announced with a yawn that Naboo was within range. Omega couldn’t be happier to be getting back to you, she had missed you massively, and was desperate to deliver that medicine. Hunter sat up from the bunks, and watched the blues of hyperspace. Echo took a seat next to him, looking at his brother’s face. “How are you feeling? We’re nearly there.” He said, to which Hunter looked down to his booted feet. “Why didn’t you want to help her?” He found himself asking in a low voice. Echo closed his eyes in thought before answering. “Seeing her so... I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking straight, and I’m sorry. I’m doing everything I can now.” Hunter didn’t say anything in reply, he genuinely didn’t know what there was for him to say. Echo had really hurt him by refusing to go along with the plan at first, no matter how much effort he was putting in now. Brothers didn’t do that to one another. Echo got up and left Hunter alone in the bunks without another word. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. When the Havoc Marauder landed back on Naboo, right outside the hospital, a familiar nurse came rushing out. Omega had wrapped the medicine up in an old pillowcase to hand to the nurse, but seeing her come running out made her think twice. Hunter sped down the steps, meeting the nurse halfway across the entrance courtyard. “Where have you all been? She’s awake, she’s finally awake!” The nurse cried, upset at the Bad Batch but joyful for the news she was delivering. Omega passed the medicine to Tech, and ran ahead. The nurse followed her, taking Omega’s hand in hers and leading her straight past the entrance and to the patient rooms. The others followed, having finally taken in the news. Hunter was at the front, slipping past people in hallways as he followed the nurse’s scent. As the five brothers turned a corner to your room, they stopped in their tracks. Your eyes were open, you were breathing on your own, but you didn’t look like you should be alive. One by one, the Bad Batch entered the room, slowly. They were scared of how close to death you looked, so sickly and weak. You could barely move your head without it falling to one side from the effort. Tech approached the nurse and handed her the medicine, to which she started adjusting your IV. Omega was right at your side, her hands clamped around one of yours. Echo noticed that you could barely hold her hand back, that was how weak you were. He knew how you felt, he’d been there, and he wanted nothing more than to relieve that pain for you. It was all a bit much, and he found himself leaning against the wall and staring at the floor. Hunter knelt by your bedside, right next to Omega, and put an arm around her shoulder. “She’s awake, huh? Not very talkative.” Hunter nudged Omega, to which she beamed at him, before she reached up to your face and smoothed your hair out of your eyes. “She’s just coming around, give her a minute Hunter.” Omega’s shy voice made you smile, and your eyes flickered over her. Hunter realised that you were checking her for injuries, so he told you what you would likely be asking her if you could. “Omega has not seen any action since we brought you to hospital, she’s been staying on the ship as ordered. We had to take a trip to collect something important, but it’s done with now.” Your heavy eyes found Hunter’s and you said a thousand things at once with just one look. “You’re going to get better, we’ve made sure of that.” He squeezed Omega’s shoulder proudly and heard the nurse talking to Tech. Something about reducing the cost of the treatment since you’d provided the required medicine yourselves, which she was grateful for as the doctors weren’t authorising big doses of medication until your poisoning was solved. Hunter’s attention was entirely focused on you, he blocked out everyone else except Omega. “Is the medicine working yet?” Omega asked you, looking between the IV drip and you. To her surprise, you nodded once, and then your hand tightened around hers. You were feeling better already, to Omega’s joy and Hunter’s relief. The others started coming over to see you, and if you could’ve taken a picture then and there of all of them crammed together at your bedside, you would’ve. It was one of the most precious moments you had ever had the pleasure of witnessing. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. messyyythoughts © 2022 do not translate without my permission, give credit if you repost, support always welcomed <3

#messyyythoughts #tracked part five #the bad batch #star wars #star wars the bad batch #sw the bad batch #sw #hunter #hunter x reader #female!reader #sw tbb #tbb echo #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb omega

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