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ghostchems · 2 months

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if you're taking nsfw drabble requests bghjdsl um. throws terzo/fem reader cockwarming in here

nsfw! mdni! about 1k words. ehhhh we got some confessional cockwarming!!

You’re not sure why you’re the one who’s being punished — but you know better than to argue with Papa. In fact, this predicament you’ve found yourself in is *salacious,* nestled underneath his chasuble between his knees with his velvety cock in your mouth. You focus on staying completely still though your knees are starting to grow sore from kneeling for so long. Terzo wants you here for the entirety of confession, until every last sibling has had their time to share their sins with him. It’s been infuriating to hear him coo over every single one of them, to have them giggle and flirt back through the partition. Then, you start to remember where you are and what you’re doing. The tension in your body shifts down to your core, your muscles tightening in your lower abdomen, thighs squeezing.

“I’ve fantasized about being with you, Papa. You bring out the most delicious lust in me.” The breathy voice from other other side of the partition sends a current through you as Terzo’s cock twitches with interest. His hands slithers down his robes, sharp nails bunching the fabric above his thighs. You stifle a groan and try to loosen your jaw to accommodate the way he blossoms in your mouth.

“It is a privilege to inspire such thoughts in His name.” He answers cooly, dragging his robes until you’re free from beneath them. Your eyes flicker up to meet his, despite his pupils being blown and his teeth worrying his bottom lip his expression screams behave. “Go on, tesoro.”

“I think about you during Black Mass. How your voice carries through to the tiniest corner of the sanctuary, how your robe flows with such power.” They speak quicker now, their voice a mere whisper. Your cheeks start to burn. It dawns on you how personal these thoughts are and how you’re intruding on this moment. Before you’re able to think any further, Terzo’s fingers weave into your hair, nails scratching at your scalp. You breathe carefully out of your nose and drag your tongue along his underside, paying extra attention to the spot just below the head. His thighs flex and he sucks in a silent breath, exhaling with an interested hum, almost teasing the sibling to keep going. All while his eyes are locked on you.

“You choose me to assist you in your invocation. I drop my cloak and expose myself to you on the altar.” Husky whispers through the partition. Terzo uses his knees to squeeze your body between his legs to keep you still. You’re stuck, all encompassed by him, nothing but him. He runs his fingers across your scalp with a tender touch. “You use your hands to please me in His Name, on display for the congregation to see.”

“A ritual of passion, eh? I don’t believe we’ve had one of those since Primo.” He’s back to playing Papa and the sibling offers a giggle. “Perhaps I’ll bring this up in our next clergy meeting — now that I know I’ll have a volunteer.” More laughter. “Thank you for your confession, caro. I look forward to hearing more from you. And, ah, would you mind telling those waiting I’m finished for the evening? Grazie.” The sibling giggles some more and utters a quiet goodbye.

They leave, the door clicking shut behind them. Terzo stays completely still other than his throbbing cock on your tongue. The both of you listen closely to their receding footsteps, then some murmurs and louder chatter. As soon as the volume in the room rises he guides your head back down his cock with a desperate groan. You sink all the way down his length, nose meeting his neatly trimmed pubic hairs. His heady, salty taste fills your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat and you utter a low hum as you swallow around him. Terzo melts into his chair with a deep growl, spreading his legs further for you, finally able to enjoy himself.

“You are… ah, so good for your papa. Brava ragazza.” He rasps and tightens his grip on your hair. Your tongue swirls around his length and you bob your head at a more steady pace, one hand pressed to his thigh while you curl your other fingers around his base. Terzo moans, running a hand over his face and arching his back with a huff. “I love the way you look with my cock in your mouth. Bravissima.” You whine and suck a sharp breath in through your nose, jolts of arousal spreading through you. You start to stroke his cock in time with each bob of your head, dark eyes flitting up to meet his. He hisses and bares his teeth, hips giving one last jerk as he spills down your throat.

You sit back on your knees and use one of your sleeves to wipe your swollen, wet lips. Terzo’s gaze is hazy but he never looks away from you, a sleepy smile plastered across his face as he quietly catches his breath. He’s wrecked — his pants still around his ankles, robes bunched at his hip and hair tousled — and you’ve never seen him look so beautiful.

“Vieni qui.” Terzo reaches a gloved hand out to you and you take it, wobbling to your feet. His arm sweeps underneath your ass, pulling you into his lap. Your heart pounds in your ears, feeling equal parts anxious and excited — he’s never shown such affection after. Your chest presses to his, chin resting on his shoulder as he curls his arms around you. “I like being with you, tesoro. I wouldn’t want anyone else in here with me.” A confession. Much different than the usual teasing and poking. You lift your head just as his hand cradles your cheek, stroking it with his thumb but still gives you a small prick with the tip of his nail.

He gives you a warm smile and you feel alive.

send me a request!

#terzo #papa emeritus iii #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo request #terzo Drabble #i can’t remember how i tagged these before

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22to22 · 1 year

Text

It's my birthday

and the thing you can do to celebrate is check out Spindlewheel, a tarot-like storytelling system where you weave a story from card to card.

Spindlewheel is a unique system where the deck has as much to say about the story as you do, but the story is bespoke to you and your friends every time. Every Spindlewheel game is a constructed scaffolding for story structure, ranging from western four-act stories in Spindlewheel Classic, to tense bombastic duels to the bitter end in Meet Me In The Field of Honour At Dawn, to sorting out a trio's complicated feelings for each other in Love Machine.

The goal of Spindlewheel is to tell a satisfying story. Your character might win wealth and fame, or they might crash and burn. Both of these are victories if they fit the arc of the story you’ve told, and bring satisfaction to you as a storyteller.

How do you play? Well, I'm glad you asked!

Spindlewheel’s fundamental verb is interpretation.

Each card’s text evokes an idea. The upright and inverse text are different. Sometimes they’re diametrically opposed; often, they’re two sides of the same coin.

Use the card as an anchor for the part of the story that you’re telling.

A card can be a person, an event, an attitude, or a physical object. Use as much as the entire card, or as little as a single word. A card is interpreted twice: once when it enters your hand, and again when you play it. It does not have to be the same interpretation.

FOR EXAMPLE: I might draw the Hearth card and Reflect that I feel like people closed their doors to me; but I might Engage that card later, declaring I won’t do the same to someone else, and play it to invite someone into my home.

It's a really excellent one shot system: it takes no prep, every setting is procedurally generated for each table, and most games are GMless. The games that are GMed are designed to support improvisation and provide coherent throughlines so the GM can focus on moment to moment play. It also works as a GM tool within other systems for when you need an ominous portent or an answer to a question where a dice roll just won't cut it.

It also makes for pretty damn good radio. Check it out on Party of One, An Atlas of the World Unknown, You Don't Meet In An Inn, Follow the Leader, and played extensively in the devlog Spindlewheel Stories where you can listen as the game takes shape over time.

Did I mention it's got an open SRD? Anyone can hack the system and sell their games. Here's a collection of people who have done just that!

Curious?

There's lots of ways to try Spindlewheel online for free! give @spindlewheelbot (by Caro Asercion) on twitter an @ for a "classic" spread inspired by the celtic cross, or a single card "vibe check"; print and play the deck with the original legacy art or play it on playingcards.io; or play it on Tabletop Playground and Tabletop Simulator.

Convinced?

Head over to www.teacabbage.com/spindlewheel to pick your digital copy of Spindlewheel on itch.io and roll20!

#spindlewheel #indie ttrpg #tabletop #tarot #gmless #been meaning to make this post for a while #sorry my whole life is wrapped up in this game if you're tired of hearing about it but also: it's a good game so idc

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jedi-hawkins · 6 months

Text

Bad Batch ~ Bryn-ayla Del Caro

A/N: Welcome all! Here's an introductory chapter to my Jedi OC, Bryn. I've been weaving her into the Star Wars Saga over the last year, Please give her some love! If anyone has ideas or constructive criticism, all is welcome. May the Force be with you!

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: canon descriptions of violence. Mentions of death, injuries and brief mention of suicide.

Next Chapter

The year is 21BBY, and the Clone War has been raging for just over a year. Jedi Master Bryn-Ayla Del Caro has come to Kamino to meet her new trooper squad, Clone Force 99. How will she mesh with this new batch of soldiers?

Footsteps softly echo off the pristine white floors of the Tipoca City Cloning Facility as two Jedi and a Kaminoan calmly walk through the hallways.

"The clone production is getting more and more efficient with each batch." The Kaminoan, Nala Se, says, gently waving her hand at a window that overlooks towers of embryos floating peacefully in bacta tanks.

Master Bryn-ayla Del Caro simply nods. "It is clear that your cloning facilities are impressive, and the soldiers you train are outstanding fighters. But with all due respect, I came all this way to meet my new squad, not for a tour."

"Yes, Clone Force 99." The other Jedi, Master Shakk Ti adds. "Our experimental batch. They are just getting ready to run the Citadel simulation for your assessment. Right this way."

She gestures to a nearby door and leads the way through a few more turning hallways until Bryn finds herself on a balcony overlooking the impressive Kaminoan training facility.

Nala Se takes her place at the direction console for the facility. "It will be just a moment."

Bryn turns to her comrade. "So, what more can you tell me about Squad 99?"

The togruta smiles. "As I said when we first talked, they're an interesting bunch. Each had their DNA modified to emphasize traits that may be desired in soldiers. Enhanced intelligence, superior eyesight and reflexes-"

"Amplified strength?" Bryn adds as the platform rises into the arena with four clones on it, one significantly bigger than his brothers.

"Now you're getting the idea." Shaak Ti responds. She looks over to Nala Se, "Are we ready to begin?"

The Kaminoan nods, turning to one of her assistants "Lets go with variation 473, and tap into their comms channel." she says.

The assistant nods, tapping a few buttons on the control console. The droids in the arena below come to life, raising their weapons as an automated voice begins a countdown.

On the platform below, the four clones are talking to each other.

"We've done hundreds of these, boys. We've got this in the bag." Their Sergeant says absentmindedly, his eyes trained on the new face on the viewing platform above.

The large one smirks under his helmet. "A simulation? Why don't they give us a real challenge?"

The group fans out, immediately settling into their places behind the crates set throughout the arena.

'Three... Two... One...'

The droids begin their assault. After assessing the situation, the sergeant turns to the man beside him. "Crosshair, towers."

The clone carrying a firepuncher rifle, Crosshair, gives a curt nod and creeps around the perimeter to begin scaling one of the towers firing down upon the squad. He makes quick work of them and begins picking off droids down below as his brothers begin their advance.

After a couple more moments, Bryn can hear who she assumes is the big one grumble to his comrade with a helmet modified to fit a pair of goggles. "Augh, this is boring."

Sensing what he's about to do, his brother shouts, "Wrecker, no!"

Completely ignoring him, Wrecker launches himself over the barrier they were sheltering behind, kicking a droid out of his way and immediately bringing his hands down on another. Shaking his head, the brother follows Wrecker's path while the sergeant pulls up the rear.

Mad laughter can be heard through the comms channel and Bryn smiles. "He seems to enjoy this. They have interesting tactics, Master Ti."

She nods and turns to the Kaminoan assistant. "Switch to variation 291." They turn their attention back to the arena as the assistant changes the simulation.

New armored battle droids rise from the floor, eliciting another laugh from Wrecker. The armored droids begin firing as more waves of battle droids close in, causing the three clones on the ground to retreat behind barriers.

Crosshair fires a couple shots onto the armored droids, but it simply calls their attention to him. They fire up to the tower where he's perched, causing him to retreat down to the ground where the sergeant is. His cool voice finally comes over the comms. "This is going well."

The clone with goggles looks over at Wrecker and remarks. "They must have changed the simulation parameters. It seems our original assault may not be sufficient."

"You think?" Wrecker grumbles back.

"Might I suggest Plan 23, Hunter?" Goggles says, looking at his Sergeant.

"Good thinking, Tech. That sound alright boys?" Hunter replies

They all give a nod and move to new positions, restarting their fire on the droids. One of the droids manages to hit Hunter's blaster, knocking it out of his hand. To Bryn's interest, he simply pulls a pair of vibro-knifes from his armor and continues with hand-to-hand attacks on the droids. "You let us know when you're ready, Crosshair." He says.

A couple more movements of fire between the clones and the droids pass and suddenly Crosshair calls over the comms, "Now!"

He and his three brothers each toss a small shiny disc in the air, and Crosshair fires a single shot, it ricochets off droid heads and the discs taking out every last droid in the arena.

The clones all emerge from cover and look up to the balcony where their spectators stand. "Nice job, boys." Hunter remarks.

Shaak Ti simply gives a nod to the clones below. "Come, Master Caro. Time to meet them in person." She says, beckoning the other master to follow her.

Back on the training floor, Wrecker turns to his brothers. "Who d'you suppose was up there with Shaak Ti?"

"Probably our new General." Tech replies, pulling a data pad from his belt.

"Tch." A single noise, dripping in distain from Crosshair.

Before the squad can say anything else, the door to the arena opens and Shaak Ti enters, leading what is definitely another Jedi behind her.

"Clone Force 99, may I introduce you to your new General, Jedi Master Bryn-ayla Del Caro." Shaak Ti says, waving a hand to the Jedi beside her.

The squad takes their helmets off, and a clone with a mess of long dark hair tied back by a red bandana steps forward. "General, I'm Sergeant Hunter, and these are my men." He points to the clone with goggles that's holding the data pad. "This is Tech, he's our smart one."

Then he points to the clone that towers over his brothers. His left eyes is clouded over and it's clear he's taken an explosion to that side of his head. "This is Wrecker. And finally-"

"Crosshair." Bryn finishes, looking at the tall and lithe clone with the rifle.

The squad looks at her in surprise.

"Woah, was that some kind of Jedi trick?" Wrecker asks with a grin on his face.

Bryn laughs, "Far from it. We were tapped into your comms. Your tactics are quite impressive. I'm looking forward to seeing more of your work."

Hunter glances to his squad. "With all due respect, we are a little confused as to why we are being assigned to you, sir. Don't Jedi normally command entire legions, or armies even?"

Bryn gives the remark some thought before replying. "Come, let's get something to eat and I'll answer all your questions."

"Please allow me to escort you." Shaak Ti says, but Bryn holds up a hand in protest.

"Thank you, Master Ti," she says "but I believe my squad can show me the way. We'll be fine"

The togruta considers the suggestion, eventually nodding. "Alright, please come see me in my office before you depart."

Bryn nods and Shaak Ti exits the arena. She then turns to the clone squad, "You are hungry, right?"

Hunter clears his throat. "Ah, yeah, yes sir. Come on boys, let's show the General to the mess."

Hunter falls into stride with Bryn, as his three brothers follow behind.

"So, who exactly are you?" Crosshair croons.

"Crosshair-" Hunter warns.

"No, it's okay." Bryn says. "I am Jedi Master Bryn-ayla Del Caro. I was born on Takodanna in the western mid-rim, brought to Coruscant when I was four to begin my Jedi training. I was padawan to Jedi Master Plo Kloon. I work closely with Master Obi-wan Kenobi and the 212th Legion as well as Knight Anakin Skywalker and the 501st. I'm sure they don't need introductions."

Bryn pauses, but the brothers are hanging on to her every word. "Depending on what files you have pulled up on that data pad there, Tech, you may see that yes, I did command a Legion for the Republic." Again, she pauses. The name of her fallen men catches in her throat. "The 43rd."

Tech adjust his goggles, quickly typing in a few things on his data pad. "Everything I have here confirms what you said, though there is one discrepancy. It says here that the 43rd Legion was wiped out entirely during the Battle on Jabiim early in the War."

Bryn's face falls. "There were two survivors from the 43rd."

"So you just left your men behind to be slaughtered?" Crosshair sneers.

Bryn's face hardens and she stops to look him dead on. "Why don't you hear me out before throwing accusations around? The front on Jabiim hadn't changed in nearly six weeks. The Republic decided to switch tactics. They divided the 43rd into its battalions and sent them to simultaneously attack Separatist strongholds to retake the planet. I was forced to stay with my point battalion at Shelter Base to coordinate our efforts and hold our only point of occupation."

Her words seem strong, angry maybe, but Hunter can sense she's terrified. He can hear her heart pounding in her chest as she continues. "Separatist Commander Alto Stratus had all our intel. He was able to maneuver through our defenses and launch a frontal assault on Shelter Base. I was at point, trying to buy enough time for everyone to get inside. I lost one hundred and twenty-seven of my men in that first attack. Good men. We had just enough time to triage the wounded before the second wave hit. I couldn't tell you how many assaults there were after that. The Seppies were armed far beyond what we expected. It was almost like they were toying with us as they divided that battalion and picked us off."

Bryn pauses, some screams of falling troopers echo through her skull. "It was all a blur. There must have been a break because the last I remember was my Commander dragging me out into the woods. Apparently it was four days before a rescue ship made it out to our location, I don't know how Steeler kept us alive. The next I knew I was waking up on Coruscant after spending a week in a Bacta Tank."

She takes a moment to steady her breathing and Tech's data pad let's out a couple beeps.

"Ah, yes." He says. "Here's the treatment report. Concussion, facial fractures, four cracked ribs, multiple lacerations and blaster wounds that needed surgical repair, shattered kneecap, bruising to the kidney, liver and spleen from blunt force trauma, and post-surgical intracranial bleeding." Tech lists off.

Bryn swallows. "I should have died. It took me three days to wake up after they fished me out of the bacta. Medics were unsure whether I was going to wake up at all. That's when I learned the fate of my Legion. The battalion at Shelter Base wasn't the only one that was compromised, all of them were. The other Jedi commanders and my three younger brothers were among the those killed in battle. The loss of Jabiim was a grave Republic defeat. Some men were lucky enough to survive the blood bath and made it to the med stations, but most soon died to their injuries. For the ones who left the medbays, it was only a couple of weeks before they chose to join their brothers. Commander Steeler and I are the only survivors."

The squad is silent for a moment as they soak in her story.

"Kriff." Hunter mutters. "I knew Jabiim was bad, but I didn't know how bad."

Wrecker's jaw is hanging open. "Well, what happened to you then?" He prods.

Bryn sighs, "Commander Steeler was absorbed into the 212th under General Kenobi. I've been helping both the 212th and 501st as well as doing some Ambassador work, but the Council and the Chancellor think it's time for a change. They wanted to move me to command the fourteenth sector army, but I refused the position." She trails off.

"You turned down the command of an entire army. How noble. Or was it fear?" Crosshair jeers again.

Bryn's face darkens. "No. I didn't agree with the Republic's decision to split my legion. It was early in the war and a lot of our troopers were still shiny, the command included. I wanted to take my lead squad to see what we were dealing with before attacking, but I was overruled. The Republic felt our numbers were strong enough for the siege to succeed with full frontal attacks. I should have gone against orders and taken the squad anyway. I knew it was the right choice even though the Republic thought otherwise. It's not the first time I've disagreed with Command, it probably won't be the last."

Hunter waves a hand down the hallway, beginning to lead the group again. "Then you may understand our-" He chooses his next words wisely. "-reservations about the Republic's decision to send you to supervise us."

Bryn stops and places a hand on the Sergeant's shoulder plate, "I'm not here to supervise you. I requested this squad. I see a chance for us to do for others what I couldn't do for the 43rd."

Wrecker cocks his head to one side. "You want to be here with us?"

"Your files were very promising. This elite clone force will be able to tackle the missions entire Legions can't figure out. We can save lives and hopefully bring this war to a swifter end." Bryn responds.

Crosshair rolls his eyes. "A Jedi wanting to save innocent civilians, how novel." He mutters under his breath.

"Not just civvies. Clones." Bryn says sternly. "The majority of the Republic leaders have yet to realize that throwing bodies at a problem rarely ever works. I'm looking to change that."

She turns and continues walking. "So, Sergeant, I know the skills of your brothers. What about you? With a name like Hunter, I might guess extreme patience. While that may be true, I sense there's more to you than that."

She chuckles at her own joke, which actually brings a smile to the squad's faces, save Crosshair. Though, Bryn is fairly sure she saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward.

Hunter rubs the back of his neck, smiling. "You would be correct, General. Heightened senses is the gift I got, but you're not wrong about the patience either."

Hunter paused at the doors the mess and they slide open to reveal a huge hall filled with the same face a few dozen times over. Hunter leads the way to the mess line, but a blanket of hushed whispers falls over the room as the squad walks through it.

"A Jedi?"

"That's General Caro."

"What's she doing here?"

A wash of relief falls over Squad 99, for once the whispers aren't about them. As they find a table to sit down with their trays, a shiny saunters up to Bryn with a smirk plastered across his face and two other shinies at his side.

"You know, General, why don't you come over with me and I'll show you how a real clone troops." He leers at Bryn. Many nearby clones turn to watch the scene unfold.

Squad 99 watches her, intrigued at how she'll respond. She simply keeps her eyes on her tray, spooning some stew towards her mouth. The shiny gets bolder and places a hand on her shoulder.

"What, you shy, loth-kitten?" He taunts.

The squad's eyes widen at his comment. Now the whole mess hall is watching. Hunter even clenches a fist, ready to stand to Bryn's defense. Bryn calmly takes a sip from her glass, and sets it down on the table, ignoring the hand on her. The shiny tightens his grip on her shoulder, opening his mouth for another comment. Suddenly a bowl goes flying off one of his mate's trays, landing on his head and splattering its contents everywhere. Hunter could swear he saw the General's hand twitch. Snarling, the shiny reels back and wipes the stew from his eyes only to see the general standing tall in front of him.

"Are you alright, Trooper?" She says, her voice smooth and calm. "You should be more careful, you might end up with your foot in your mouth instead of your lunch. What are you called?"

The shiny's face reddens, he answers with a growl. "CT-13-"

Bryn raises a hand, interrupting him. "No, what is your name, soldier?"

He blinks at her. "I- I don't have one."

She smiles. "Well, looks like you just earned one, Stew. I think it would be best if you finished your meal somewhere else." She turns and sits back down without waiting for a reply. The shiny and his mates slink back to a far corner of the mess hall and the general bustle returns to the room.

Bryn turns back to her meal but pauses when she notices the Squad is staring at her, mouths open. "What?" She asks plainly, a spoonful halfway to her mouth.

Hunter shakes his head. "I didn't know how you were going to react, but I certainly didn't expect that."

"That was awesome!" Wrecker exclaims

Bryn smiles. "That was a Jedi trick, Wrecker."

"Are they always that entertaining?" Tech asks, wiping a few drops of stew off his data pad.

"Definitely not." Bryn replies. "But I do seem to specialize in tricks of the edible variety. I threw a pastry at a fellow Jedi when we were in the Academy together, a besalisk with a bad attitude. Though, I just threw with my arm that time."

Again, the corner of Crosshair's mouth threatens to turn upwards, but a question from Tech draws Bryn's attention.

"So, Bryn. I'm curious, you said you're from Takodana, but you mentioned your brothers perished in the Battle of Jabiim. Did your family relocate and live in a village that was destroyed?"

Hunter can hear her heart skip a beat. "No. My brothers enlisted in the GAR at the start of the war. The 43rd legion was home to a battalion of nat-born soldiers. Sembren, the youngest, was only 24."

Tech rubs his chin. "Ah, so they chose to fight. I wonder why."

Bryn shrugs her shoulders. "I guess with a Jedi as an older sibling, they felt like they also had to answer to a greater purpose. I wasn't there to see them grow up so I wouldn't know. I never thought to ask when I did meet them. Sometimes I wonder what their lives would look like if they hadn't decided to serve the Republic."

"So you're the oldest of your family I take it?" Tech continues.

A shadow of something flits across Bryn's face, but she quickly replaces it with a smile. "The Jedi have long since been my family."

"What other Jedi tricks do you know, General?" Wrecker enthusiastically asks.

Bryn laughs. "Well, force-kinesis is definitely a party trick, but it can be a useful skill. With concentration, a Jedi can influence an individual's thoughts, though the success rate can depend on the subject's willpower or species. With study and practice, some Jedi can accelerate their healing. Many get visions in their dreams when the mind is more vulnerable. And of course, Jedi tend to have quick reflexes-" Her hand flies up and catches something- a spoon.

Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter turn in surprise to see Crosshair's outstretched hand.

"-which can be a huge advantage in battle." Bryn finishes calmly, setting the utensil down. "Though, the most helpful skill, in my opinion, is the ability to sense an individual's thoughts and emotions." She raises her eyes to Crosshair, who gets an uneasy feeling that she's actually looking through him.

"So," she continues. "If you all are done eating, then we can get going."

Hunter's brow furrows. "To where?"

"Oh I thought they would have told you." Bryn says apologetically. "I'm not just here to meet you, I'm here for our first mission. You're shipping out with me, tonight."

The squad's eyes widen as they look to each other. They're actually leaving Kamino.

Wrecker suddenly stands up, nearly knocking over the table. "Well what are we waiting for?"

Bryn and the rest of the squad stand up and clear their trays before walking out of the mess hall. The Jedi glances around her at the white Kaminoan hallways that all look the same.

Hunter appears at her right side. "You needed to go see Shaak Ti, right? Do you know the way to her office?"

Bryn shakes her head. "Admittedly no."

The sergeant smiles and jerks his head toward where his brothers are standing. "Come on, our barracks are on the way."

Once again Bryn finds herself winding through identical hallways until Crosshair, who's leading the group stops at a door. It slides open for them and the squad files in, Bryn last. She glances around and can quickly decipher whose bunk is whose.

Wrecker's is an absolute mess, blankets tossed everywhere, littered with ration bar wrappers. Bryn does notice there's a tooka doll tucked into the corner by Wrecker's pillow. Crosshair's is pristine. Three practice targets are hung on the wall, three sets of blacks are neatly folded on top of his crisply made bunk. He's managed to arrange some spare crates around his bed into a barrier between him and the rest of the barrack.

Much like Wrecker's, Tech's blankets are haphazardly thrown on the bed, but instead of ration wrappers, pieces of spare wire and mechanical components are strewn about. The majority of his bunk is occupied by what looks like a long-range transmitter, and the walls of his bunk are decorated with various scribbles of equations or gadget designs. Hunter's bunk is neatly made, not to Crosshair's caliber, but neat nonetheless. A spare pair of boots sits at the foot of his bed, a storage trunk beside them. He's decorated his wall will the same skull emblem as the one on his red bandana and '99' in Aubresh. He has his Sergeant accolades pinned above his pillow.

There are two spare bunks in a corner of the room. Neither have blankets on them, both are taken by storage crates holding a slew of random items. Hunter sniffs a couple times. "Ah, sorry about the smell, General." he says, setting his helmet down on a crate by his bunk.

Bryn chuckles. "Don't be, this is nothing. The 501st? Some of them are fresh enough to peel paint."

Again, Hunter smiles at her and turns to his brothers. "Start packing, boys. I'll be right back."

He steps back out into the hallway, pausing to make sure Bryn follows him. It only takes a couple minutes for him to escort her to master Shaak Ti's office.

He turns to make his way back to the barracks, but Bryn calls out to him. "I won't be long. When you all are done packing, meet me in Hangar 99. Expect to be gone for about ten days."

The doors to hangar 99 slide open as Hunter steps through with his brothers. His eyes fall on General Caro who's leaning up against an Omicron-class attack shuttle. She's added some armor pieces over her Jedi robes, something many generals choose to do. Hunter comes to attention in front of her, giving a salute. "Reporting, General." He says curtly, his brothers following suit.

Bryn chuckles and casually waves her hand. "No need for that boys, I hated it when an entire legion did it, still hate it now." The squad returns to their normal postures as she pushes herself away from the starship. "I trust you had no trouble finding your way here?"

Tech adjusts his goggles. "Hangar bay 99, very fitting."

Bryn smiles. "I thought so too."

Hunter scans over the ship behind the general in awe. "What is this" He asks plainly.

Bryn gestures wide to the ship. "Welcome to your new home away from home. The Havoc Marauder." She presses her hand to a button on the landing gear and the gangplank slides open. "Come on in."

The batch walk up the gangplank in turn and begin investigating the interior. After only a few minutes inside, it's clear the starship has been modified with a few more creature comforts than a regulation Omicron-class. Half the jump seats on the wall opposite the entryway have been replaced with a massive databank and multiple displays. The cockpit houses four chairs that look much more comfortable than regulation. Through the entry galley there's a hallway with two doors on one side and a single door on the other.

The first of the two doors reveals a mess storage with a ration warmer and even a small kaf press. Next door is the refresher, complete with a shower stall, albeit a cramped one. Across the hall is the med bay with a permanent bunk in the corner and some basic exam and trauma instruments. At the end of the hallway is another door that leads to a large space at the rear of the ship. On one wall there's three fold-down bunks and on the other side of the space are weapons racks and storage crates. The entrance to the rear gun is here and in the center of the space is a ladder leading to both the upper and lower cargo holds.

When the boys are done exploring, they come back to the entry galley to find Bryn leaning against the bulkhead to the cockpit.

"So?" She asks with a smile on her face. "Will this suffice?"

Hunter glances around him. "This can't be regulation."

Before Bryn can reply, Tech chimes in. "It is not. Clearly this ship has been heavily modified. Though, I may need to make a few more."

"How did you get this?" Wrecker asks, still looking around him with child-like glee.

Bryn shrugs. "Well... You nearly get yourself killed a couple times and people will give you something nice every once in a while. Crosshair, what do you think?"

The sniper's eyes had barely glanced around the ship before training on the general. As Crosshair's eyes narrow, Bryn braces for another snide comment that doesn't come. "Your armor."

His brothers focus on the general and they finally notice the armor plates she added to her Jedi robes are gleaming maroon-striped metal with the Republic insignia on her left shoulder, the crest of the Jedi order on her right. A striking set of jiag eyes adorns her chestplate.

"Beskar." Crosshair breathes, his unspoken question hanging in the air.

Bryn crosses her arms. "House Vizsla." She responds plainly.

"Woah." Wrecker exclaims. "Wait- what's that?"

Tech adjust his goggles. "House Vizsla." He repeats. "One of the oldest lineages of Mandalore, and the first Mandalorian bloodline to produce a Jedi."

Wrecker blinks. "But I thought you were from Takodana?"

"I am." Bryn replies. "My family descended from a branch of House Vizsla, but my ancestors left Mandalore not long after the fall of the Old Republic. This armor is one of the last pieces of that history."

"Would you ever go back?" Hunter asks.

"Although I have blood of the Creed, I would never be considered one of their own, I honestly have no desire to be. My people are elsewhere. 'Aliit ori'shya tal'din'."

The squad's eyes widen when Bryn speaks in their native Mando'a.

"Family is more than blood." Hunter repeats.

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in future works!

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #the clone wars #bad batch #star wars oc #star wars tbb #star wars tcw #Bryn-Ayla Del Caro

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vgilantee · 8 months

Text

WIP WEDNESDAY (on a friday no less. but my hell-week ended so i'm celebrating lmao)

tagged by @rain-on-kamino ^^ my only wip at the moment is this cody fic i keep going on about, but i have parts i haven't shared yet hehe

(i was going to use a gif of his pretty face but this gif always makes me giggle lmao)

--- ˚:✧｡• ---

Cody let out an amused laugh that caused goosebumps to rise across your skin after you made a frustrated huff after another short beep announced another wrong button pressed.

“Trouble, mesh’la?” You could feel his smirk on the shell of your ear as he spoke lowly.

“You’re so mean.” You tried to sound serious, but your voice broke slightly as Cody’s tongue ran up your jaw. Instead of responding, he only hummed, a sound that was joined by the successful beep of your door unlocking.

Your front door had barely slid shut before you pushed him back against the door, your hands on his shoulders to help you balance as you stood on your toes to finally, finally kiss him.

As his tongue glided across your lips, prompting you to open them, you let him explore your mouth. Cody tasted like whiskey and something sweet, and you were sure that you would never tire of it. His fingers dug lightly into your waist as he sighed, leaning down so your feet could flatten on the ground. Your hands slid around from his shoulders to the back of his neck, letting your fingers weave into the short hair on the nape of his neck.

Cody began to pull away, finally needing air, and as he moved back, you bit gently on his lip, letting it pull as his mouth left yours. You looked up at him with a smirk as Cody let out a low warning noise. You gave Cody an innocent smile, and one of his hands moved up to rest on your throat.

“Careful.” His eyes were blown as his hand rested heavily on your throat with the light threat. You thickly swallowed, head falling back against the door as you squeezed your thighs together. Cody’s thumb ran along your jaw before he leaned forward, lips brushing against your own as your mouth dropped open with a quiet moan as your eyes fell shut.

--- ˚:✧｡• ---

no pressure tags! @commander-sunshine @freesia-writes (i know caro already tagged you both but i'm going to tag you again anyway hehe) @vnusology @websterss (vee and julie i know you aren't really writing at the moment but but but if you have any wips, even dead wips, i will eat them up!)

#char rambles #commander cody x reader #˚:✧｡• commander cody #char writes #˚:✧｡• tagged #˚:✧｡• moots

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albonoooo · 8 days

Note

hellooo 🍓😁

helloooo caro!!!

you are so easy and fun to talk to, i'm certain you could make anyone feel welcome and part of a group immediately with how sweet and genuine you are. it's such a precious quality to have and i hope you never lose it. that also applies to your sense of humour, you are so funny!! and wonderfully creative, too. i love how many different things you come up with and try out, be it writing fics, creating web weaves or making gifs - your contribution to this community knows no bounds and i admire that greatly.

#smooching you on the forehead my fellow child #emy asks <3

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bobfloydsbabe · 1 year

Text

motion sickness: next gen || kids of top gun

Rating: G

Summary: The kids of our favorite aviators take on high school. Jamie Lane-Seresin has a crush on Marcus Fitch. Dalia Garcia-Alvarez may have just gotten the two to go on a date, and poor David Floyd has no idea what's going on.

Motion Sickness is the shared universe featuring Jas Lane (Turning Tables) and @joaquinwhorres' Caro and Dalia Alvarez (Tailspin). This is a next generation fic in this universe.

Warning(s): Dalia being a menace, Jamie being done with her shit, confused David. A wild Jas appears.

Word count: ~2.0k

A/N: This fic is a gift for Anna (@joaquinwhorres) who is celebrating her half birthday tomorrow! I couldn't wait, so it's a day early. There is nothing I enjoy more than expanding this universe with you, so I present to you a little next gen fic for your reading pleasure that no one else will probably read. I appreciate you and your friendship more than you know. Enjoy, friends!

Likes are nice, but comments and reblogs are golden.

Dalia poked her side. “Look who just walked in.”

Jamie raised her head from her sketchbook to the entrance to the cafeteria, where Marcus Fitch sauntered in with the rest of the football team in tow.

It was like a scene out of the movies Jas and Caro always insisted they watch on sleepovers. Marcus moved in slow motion as he laughed over his shoulder at something his friend at said that probably wasn’t even that funny. Jamie swore there was even the faint sound of swelling music coming from somewhere.

Jamie tore her eyes away, looking at Dalia, whose smug smirk reminded her so much of Caro. They really were the spitting image of each other.

“The football team?” Jamie said, shrugging, trying to play it cool. It’s what Jas would have done.

Dalia hummed, but Jamie didn’t love the devious grin on her friend’s face.

“Don’t–“

Dalia opened her mouth and shouted across the expanse of the cafeteria. “Marcus!”

Not only did the older boy’s head whip up, but so did the heads of nearly every kid in the room, as Dalia waved her hand wildly in the air, almost smacking Jamie’s temple in the process.

Marcus said something to his friends before weaving in and out of tables and bodies to make it to them. Jamie begged for the ground to swallow her whole at the sheer embarrassment of being looked at by everyone.

Dalia’s hand landed back on the tabletop unceremoniously. Jamie cursed under her breath.

“Hey, guys,” Marcus greeted, offering them a wide and confident smile that made Jamie’s insides feel funny. She muttered a hello, dreading whatever Dalia would say next.

“Jamie has an art show tomorrow,” she said, looking the picture of innocence, but Jamie scowled.

“You do?”

She raised her eyes to meet Marcus’ warm brown ones. “It’s not my art show,” she clarified. “It’s for Art Club. David is showing, too.”

At the sound of his name, he looked over his shoulder at his friends who were beckoning him to join them again. He looked back at his childhood friends, and Jamie felt smaller, acutely aware that Marcus was older and significantly cooler. “I’ll be there.”

Jamie frowned. “You don’t have to do that,” she said, shaking her head.

The broad smile Marcus offered her made her heart pound and her palms sticky. “I want to,” he assured her and wandered back to the football team at the far end of the cafeteria.

Dalia’s grin was smug and self-satisfied. “I just got you a date.”

“It’s not a date,” Jamie argued. “Coming to an art club art show after school is not a date.”

“It’s definitely a date.”

Jamie groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

Dalia grinned and waved at David, who was making his way through the crowd, holding on to his backpack and lunch tray for dear life. “You love me.”

“Debatable.”

David slumped into the seat opposite Jamie and Dalia. “What’s debatable?”

“Whether I love Dalia,” Jamie said, sliding her chemistry notebook across the table to David so they could compare results of their latest lab.

“You do,” he said matter-of-factly.

A smug smile crept back on Dalia’s face. “See? David knows.”

“David is also failing chemistry.”

He frowned, opening Jamie’s notebook. “I’m not,” he reminded them. “I’m in AP Chem.”

“You can be in AP Chem and still fail.”

“But I’m not.”

“You sound more like Jas every day,” Dalia interrupted, cutting off their arguing. It wasn’t a new thing that Jamie and David argued over classes and test scores, and though there was never any malice to it, she knew it was irritating to listen to sometimes.

Jamie would have argued with Dalia if she wasn’t right. When she’d first been in foster care with her parents, Jamie had taken to Jake the fastest. They’d bonded over sports. He’d been patient with her, and he’d learned to do her hair. Jamie rarely let anyone touch her hair. The older Jamie got, the more she had picked up Jas’ mannerisms.

She had grown into herself with these people. She was just eight when she met them, but Dalia had decided they were best friends from the jump, and they’d spent countless nights at Caro’s place when Jake and Mickey were deployed.

Their parents were all friends, but they felt more like family. A family Jamie never thought she would have, but Jake and Jas had opened their life to her. They had always treated Jamie like their own, even before they adopted her.

“Why were you debating if you love Dalia or not, anyway?”

“She’s insufferable,” Jamie said at the same time as Dalia mentioned the Marcus Debacle.

“Marcus is coming to the show?”

Dalia nodded furiously, beaming with pride. “All I had to do was mention Jamie, and he said he’d come.”

“That’s not true,” Jamie said with an incredulous look at her best friend before explaining what had actually transpired.

“It’s a date,” Dalia announced when Jamie had finished relaying the information.

David’s brows furrowed, and he delayed his answer by sipping his water bottle. “Marcus coming to the art show is a date? For who?”

“Jamie, of course,” Dalia answered, sounding like she thought he was dumb for not picking up on that very obvious conclusion.

David frowned. Jamie could practically see the wheels turning inside his brain as he tried to figure out how Dalia had gotten there. By the looks of it, he was having little luck.

“It’s an art club show after school,” David said slowly. Jamie saw a hint of Bob in his brows and mouth when he frowned again. “That doesn’t seem like a date.”

“Thank you,” Jamie exclaimed triumphantly, slamming her palm down on her sketch book, smearing the piece she was working on. She cursed under her breath before closing the book.

“He does like you, though,” David said nonchalantly, looking down at Jamie’s notes from AP Chem, not realizing his mistake until it was too late.

Dalia eyed him suspiciously. “You know something,” she said and pointed to him.

“I have eyes,” he said and shrugged for good measure. His mom hated when he shrugged.

Jamie looked between her friends, not understanding the silent conversation they tried to have through glances alone.

“We will talk about this later,” Dalia said to David, sounding more like a threat than a suggestion. It was during moments like those where there was no doubt Dalia was Caro’s daughter.

Dalia turned her attention back to Jamie. “You’ve been in love with him since we were twelve. Is it so bad to just call it a date even if he doesn’t know it?”

Jamie groaned, a habit she had undoubtedly picked up from Jas over the years, and slammed her head against her arm resting on the closed sketchbook.

“You’re insufferable,” she murmured into the crook of her arm.

Jamie didn’t have to look at Dalia to know she was grinning triumphantly.

Caro picked them up from school that afternoon because Marcus had a late football practice, and couldn’t take them like he normally did. Jamie waved at the car over her shoulder, walking up the driveway to her front door.

Jas and Jake had done a lot of work on the house after they moved in together. Mostly Jake. Jas had been tasked with painting the porch and barely managed that, getting paint all over herself, the grass, and the neighbor’s cat.

Jamie loved that story.

She let herself into the house, knowing Jas would be up and getting ready for the night shift. “Mom?”

“In here,” Jas spoke from the kitchen.

She dropped her backpack on the bench in the entryway and rounded the corner to the kitchen where Jas was preparing tea for Jamie and coffee for herself.

She was in scrubs, her hair tied into a tight bun that closely resembled the one she’d been forced to wear in the Navy. She slid the mug across the counter towards Jamie, who sat on one of the tall bar stools.

“How was school?”

Jamie shrugged. “It was alright,” she said, sipping her tea. “I think Mr. Simmons is planning a pop quiz for AP Chem. I compared notes with David at lunch.”

Jas offered Jamie a spoon to stir her tea with, which she accepted. “You feel okay about it?”

“Yeah,” she said, swirling the spoon around the tea, filling the air with the scent of chamomile.

“I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow,” Jas said and mirrored Jamie’s sip of her mug. “I managed to change shifts with someone, so I can come to your art show. I’m not sure if Jake can make it, so you’ll have to ask him when he gets home, but he wants to be there.”

Jamie smiled. Jas and Jake were practical people, and when she made the track team, she wasn’t surprised when they came to every race and tournament, but their support of her interest in art? That was a shock.

“Got any surgeries planned today?”

“Nothing scheduled,” Jas replied, taking another sip. “But emergency medicine is unpredictable, so who knows?”

“It’s like you then.”

Jas paused, the mug halfway to her mouth, and stared at Jamie.

“I know you did not just call me unpredictable,” Jas said in mock outrage, putting her coffee back on the counter and placing her hand over her chest.

“Didn’t you string dad along for weeks when you first met?”

Jas snorted. “He loved it, and if he ever tells you otherwise, he’s lying.”

Jamie chuckled, letting her eyes glide around the room at the pictures and memories scattered around the kitchen and living room. Besides a picture from their wedding that Jamie had recreated in Art Club for the show, her favorite was a picture Caro had snapped on the day Jas and Jake got together officially.

They were at the bar they all still went to. The Hard Deck. The picture was taken from the back with Jas and Jake resting their elbows on the bar top while Penny was getting them drinks. They were looking at each other, foreheads almost touching, and grinning widely like little kids. Jake liked to say that night was the first time he ever saw Jas truly relax in his presence.

“He liked it,” Jamie agreed. “You were still unpredictable, though.”

Jas chuckled. “I guess so.”

They spent the next ten minutes talking about school and homework, about the upcoming holiday season and whether they were going to Texas to stay with Jake’s parents or San Francisco to stay with Jas’ moms.

Jas checked her watch again. “I have to get going,” she said and swallowed the last bit of coffee, placing the mug in the sink. “Would you mind emptying the dishwasher? You know how your dad gets.”

“Of course,” Jamie agreed.

Jas came around the kitchen island and kissed Jamie’s temple. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow for your art show, okay?”

“Okay,” Jamie answered as the corners of her mouth ticked upwards, watching Jas throw her phone and wallet into her bag. Jamie leaned back in her seat so she could see the front door around the corner.

“Drive safe,” Jamie yelled when Jas took her car key from the bowl by the front door.

“Yeah yeah,” Jas shouted back, probably rolling her eyes at the fact that even her daughter knew she was a terrible driver.

As the door slammed, Jamie’s phone pinged in her pocket with a text from Jake, letting her know he would be able to come to her art show tomorrow and did she want pizza for dinner.

She answered the man she considered her father that she did want pizza and asked if she could invite Dalia to join them.

❋❋❋

taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @arrthurpendragon, @ocappreciationtag, @chrissymunson, @cas-verse, @chickensarentcheap, @asirensrage, @misskatiewrites, @stanshollaand, @eddiemunscns, @raith-way, @wordspin-shares, @veetlegeuse

top gun taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @joaquinwhorres, @fantasias-creativebubble, @lostinwonderland314, @luckyladycreator2, @blue-aconite, @dempy, @alana4610, @littlebadariell, @cherrycola27, @whisperofsong, @another-tblr-fangirl, @flashyourgreeneyesatme, @seymour-cant-read, @wordspin-shares

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