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practically-an-x-man · 6 months

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again for whoever you like :) not-so-nice asks betrayal, bound, break, pain, and torture

thank you again! Let's see here... I feel like I haven't talked about Robin or Indigo in a while (since I finished their main fics), so we'll go with them. Their stories are super angsty anyway, it's perfect!

Not-So-Nice OC Asks

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

Robin: No, but she's managed to do the reverse: turning a few former enemies into allies. She's one of those people that's just got such a spirit about her, she's both so kind and so strong that a lot of people don't want to make her an enemy.

Indigo: Not exactly. There was a time where she and her partner had to pretend to be enemies in order to infiltrate another ship, and he was so convincing she nearly believed he'd turned her in for real, but it wasn't an actual betrayal. She did, however, become a spy for the Resistance, so you could say she betrayed the First Order as a whole.

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

Robin: Yep. She and a few other X-Men were captured in a cloning facility. They had their blood drawn a few times, and there would likely be more to come if they hadn't managed to escape. Physical scars? No. Emotional trauma? For sure. She loves her family more than anything, so being separated and watching them in pain was just about the worst thing in the world for her.

Indigo: Also a yes. She was captured, tortured for information, and finally was put through an attempt at reconditioning. The reconditioning was interrupted, so it didn't take (thankfully), and she was rescued in the end, but that experience left her with both physical and emotional scars.

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

Robin: Losing a loved one - especially her brother or her partner. She's done so much to keep them safe, it would crush her to suddenly lose them. She'd always feel like there was something more she could have done, either to save them or at least to share a bit more love, even if she'd done all she was capable of. I don't know if she's ever been seen at her lowest possible point, but Peter (her partner) has certainly helped her through the worst moments in her life.

Indigo: Learning everything she'd done was for naught: the First Order wins, the Resistance is destroyed, her partner is viewed as a traitor, and all her friends are killed. Honestly, I feel like it would be the think to break her: she's such a fighter and has pushed through near-endless pain of her own, but losing that much would drive her into silence. She'd go numb, or fall into destructive habits. And again: she hasn't been through her worst thing imaginable, but she's had friends and her partner to help her through the darkness moment she's experienced.

pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

Robin: I'd say her TBI, though I doubt she actually felt pain during it. Elements of the recovery were definitely painful though, either physically or emotionally. She's got a high pain tolerance, not inhuman but certainly up there (like a 7/10, maybe?)

Indigo: Being shocked by Force-lightning on Exegol. It was the most agonizing, totally overwhelming, unstoppable pain she'd ever experienced, and it left her with aches and pains for years after. And she's got a pain tolerance up in the stratosphere! Indie's been through some tough shit.

torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?

Robin: Not really. Even when she was captured, everything was fairly clinical - they took her blood and kept her chained up, but didn't do anything that wasn't for a specific cause or reason. And no, she'd never come close to torturing someone else. She's not that type of person.

Indigo: Yep! Gotta love those interrogation droids... not. Like I said, Indie's been through some tough shit. She wouldn't really have the constitution to torture someone else, though. It would bring back too many painful memories for herself, even to be in the opposite position.

#thanks for the ask! haven't thought about these guys in a while #my friends!!!#answered asks #ask game #my ocs #oc indigo #robin cassidy #my writing #symphony in silver fic #bolts and blasters fic

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nerdieforpedro · 3 months

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He told me his name

The Mandalorian/ Din Djarin x plus size female reader

My entire blog is 18+ MDNI

Word Count: approx. 1.3k

Summary: It's not clear if you enter The Mandalorian's orbit or you enter his, but slowly the two of you are growing closer.

Warnings: vague mentions of mechanic work, HANDS (It's my thing about Din okay?!), fluff, some violence, blood, injuries and first aid

Notes: I've wanted to write another Din fic for a while and didn't have any sparks. Then I read @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin 's Din fic (Sorgan girls Are Easy) she put out yesterday which is excellent. I had my spark. ⚡️ Though the fic I wrote isn't similar to hers at all. Not even in the same category. 🤣 My fic is very moody. I might write a follow-up one shot to this. Not another series!

Dividers are by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist / Din Djarin Masterlist /Our Journey Across the Star Ocean

Lingering near your workstation had you curious, but you chalked it up to just being curious about how you worked. You’re aware that your organization, separation and tinkering can be slower than other mechanics but it also means you don’t need to double check your work as often.

The Mandalorian was intimidating and never rude or even commanding. In fact he was polite and let Peli speak to him pretty casually. You only said hello and goodbye.

That’s why it struck you with surprise when Peli asked during one evening card game with the droids if you’d consider riding with the “walking tin can” as she put it. You blinked and asked why you, shouldn’t he be asking her to come with him. She told you that she had a business to run and she’s not gallivanting around with a trigger happy bounty hunter who has to keep track of an adorable but absurdly strong baby.

“You need some excitement anyway. You’ll just waste away here without any good memories or fun stories to tell. It will just be a life of regrets of paths not taken.”

Her words rang in your head as the small green child sat in your lap. The Mandalorian was at the controls, silently charting their course. Was this a good decision?

He allowed you to come with him when he got his tracking fobs and when he turned in his bounties. The first touch was between your shoulder blade to your back, guiding you and the child through the market back to the Razor Crest.

The second was when his gloved hands touched yours while trying to improve your aim using a blaster. His voice was more gentle than his normal flat one. Closer to what he used with Grogu but still not as much warmth. It was enough to have you believe him to be kind.

The third happened after he brought a bounty back to the ship and he saw Grogu patting your cheeks as you spoke to him. Explaining about what different bolts did, it looked like you were organizing your tools again. His gloved hand was placed on your shoulder which had you peer up at his t-visor. He gave you a nod and went to inventory his weapons. Maybe it wasn’t just kindness. Maybe he believes you to be useful, a smile creeps along your face.

Such small gestures continued until you took Grogu out for a walk.

It was a fairly green planet and Din said it was safe, you didn’t wander far from the ship as it was still in view. The first crawling plant you saw and shot it through and through with your blaster. The second, nipped your leg but you were able to knock it off and shot it twice. On the way back to the ship you were clear, but one jumped the gangway and a tentacle sliced across your back before you were able to turn and shoot it. You limped back into the Razor Crest and were able to clean and dress your leg but not your back. Grogu wouldn’t stop screaming and you kept moving him away from you to not get blood on the poor child.

The bounty hunter saw you, quickly put his bounty on carbonate and grabbed the bacta spray. He spoke to his son and was able to calm him slightly as he ripped your shirt and bra to try and access the wound on your back but the blood and secretions in your wound from the tentacle made it increasingly difficult as you bled.

“I apologize for this. I’ll need to cut off the rest of the back of your shirt to clean and apply the spray and…” He paused. The Mandalorian you know never paused, he was always measured in his speech, even with Grogu. “It may be easier for me to do if I remove my gloves. They’ve become too slick with your blood. Is that alright?” You found it puzzling that he was asking permission considering it’s one of the main tenets of his religion. You didn’t care either way as long as the bleeding and pain stopped.

“It’s fine Mando. Do what you need to do. Grogu’s okay right? I didn’t get any blood on him, I think.”

You closed your eyes and heard the Mandalorian give a few curses as he removed his gloves, warm calloused fingers were dabbing your back and applying pressure. After holding it a few minutes, you felt the cool spray of the bacta and some patches being applied with more pressure. There seemed to be less pain and your back didn’t feel like a dripping pool so you counted your lucky stars and thanked the Maker that the bounty hunter had come back earlier than later. You felt something soft spread over your body and you were lifted off the floor of the ship and brought to your cot. How did he lift you so easily? Did beskar help with that? You didn’t think so, but you know next to nothing about the stuff. It was there that you drifted off to sleep.

When you awoke later, Grogu had tucked himself on your pillow with a small green hand on your cheek. It made you feel happy to see the little green one next to you, but you felt something in your hand. It was what had been on your back. Mando had one of his gloves off and was holding your hand with his bare one. His other hand was touching Grogu’s back but his glove was on. You turned away for a moment to let a tear fall. He cares about you, you’re more than useful, maybe.

Grogu remained asleep but Mando awoke, squeezing your hand in his. “You’re awake? Has the pain subsided? I should check-” You turned back to shush him and carefully sat up, the blanket falling off your partially and he released your hand to pull it around you. The back of your shirt was open and had fallen forward some when you got up, but not expose anything thankfully. “You should keep warm. We’re on our way back to turn in the bounty. I-I am sorry.”

“There’s no reason to be sorry. They came out of nowhere. I was able to not get killed because of the blaster shots you had me practice and Grogu’s safe so-” Since you’re not holding Mando’s hand any longer, you grasp the blanket, to have something in your hand.

“You were not safe. You were hurt badly. Do…I would not blame you if you wanted to leave.” His register is low, not threatening, but there’s sadness in it. He was sitting at your bedside mere moments ago. You wished to hop back in time and keep still so you wouldn't wake him. Just to have stayed in that moment a bit longer…

“I refuse to go. I will not. You’ll have to toss me off. I’ve seen so many things and places and I want to see that much more. You’re stuck with me Mando.” The blanket drops as you release it and you grab his bare hand with both of yours. “I’m not going to but. I just don’t want to go.” Speaking as you lock your eyes on his t-visor, a deep hum is heard from the hunter, but you remain firm.

“I am called Din. Please do so while it’s just the three of us.” His thumb ran across your palm and tickled your skin making you chuckle. “You will remain and hopefully I will hear more of your laugh.” Your smile only grows with his answer. “Please rest for now. Our journey isn’t over.”

Space Buddies: @linzels-blog @maggiemayhemnj @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @missladym1981 @morallyinept @sherala007 @yorksgirl @daddy-dins-girl @magpiepills @megamindsecretlair @anoverwhelmingdin @theincredibleinkspitter @alltheglitterandtheroar @mrsmando @drawingdroid @harriedandharassed @i-own-loki @lady-bess @undercoverpena @pedroshotwifey

#A Nerdie fic #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian #star wars #din djarin x plus size reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you

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adhd-coyote · 9 days

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@killjoypolitics asked about my Acrobat Obi-Wan au for the ask game!

The acrobat was… well, beautiful was the only word Cody could find to describe him. And yet it still felt like beautiful was an understatement. His hair, ginger turned to fire by the lighting, had been neat at the start of the performance, but was now mussed, falling into his face. His uniform, light blue with golden embroidery, left very little to the imagination, despite the fact that it covered all but his arms, feet, and head. To say nothing of his performance. The man moved through the air like he had been born there, twirling and twisting in ways Cody hadn’t even seen Jedi do. And hells, the acrobat was smiling, no trace of fear on his face as he tumbled down with nothing but the hard ground to catch him. He laughed as he did a particularly twisty flip, the sound echoing through the tent and making Cody ache to hear it again. The acrobat spun, caught himself on a rung with his legs, and swung upwards, arm outstretched. His swing reached its peak, and he looked up, looked at Cody, met his eyes, and suddenly Cody was drowning in blueblueblue. Blue like water, like the light of a blaster bolt. Blue like the sky this man seemed to feel so at home in. The acrobat's smile softened, his hand turning palm up, like he was waiting for someone to take it. Then his momentum fell, and he was twisting away, and suddenly Cody remembered how to breathe.

This is an au where Obi-Wan never rejoined the Order after Melida/Daan and joined a circus! Cody gets the opportunity to go to one of his shows during the war and falls head over heels when he sees him perform. Similarly, Obi-Wan immediately develops a crush on the pretty trooper who feels like sunshine in the Force. Both of them are adorable <3

#ask game #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #star wars #star wars fanfiction #codywan #fanfic idea #fanfiction writer #wip #fanfic wip #performer obi wan #acrobat obi wan #obi wan joins the circus #codywan fanfic #cody x obi wan

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notallthoseinheadspace · 15 days

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Another little fic, kinda my prediction for the finale. PG, extreme tension, angst at the end.

Now also on AO3!

HEARTBEATS

“There is… something else you should know.”

The hesitation in Emerie’s voice does not fill Echo with confidence. “I’m sure there are a lot of things I should know,” he answers, aware that he’s growling the words out and making no particular effort to change that. “What in particular are you referring to?”

“What do you know about the CX assassin project?”

Echo knows cold. He’s been frozen in carbonite, suspended in cryo-stasis, and neither of those made him feel the same level of frozen horror as that question. “More than I’d like, but less than I need to. Why?”

The stormtroopers shift, all three of them aiming their weapons at Rampart’s head, fingers steady on the triggers.

The middle one tips his helmet, surveying the former Vice-Admiral, before scoffing softly. “Edmon Rampart. Supposed to be in the company of Clone Force 99.”

The left trooper looks to the center one, the movement brief. “We supposed to be bringing this one in?”

The center trooper’s helmet centered again, hands tightening briefly on his blaster. “The defective clones we capture. Orders for Rampart are to shoot on sight as a traitor to the Empire.”

Rampart, already drawing himself up to argue the use of his name rather than his lost title, froze as the blaster muzzles pressed forward.

Three shots rang out.

“Get me a secure comm channel,” Echo ordered. “Now.”

“I don’t - we’re not supposed to communicate outside the base!”

“Still ‘just following orders’, huh?”

Emerie’s shoulders sagged, then straightened, and she pointed wordlessly to the necessary panel. “You should be able to have access from there, but it will alert base security.”

“How long will it give us?”

“A matter of minutes. Five at the most, unless something else happens.”

Echo gritted his teeth and bent to scomp in. “Let’s hope something else happens.”

“Wh - ” blinking in bafflement, Rampart stared at the three stormtroopers lying stunned on the ground before him before whipping back around to stare up small hill.

Crosshair shouldered his rifle and glowered down at him. “Get up. Wrecker’s injured and we’re wasting time.”

“Wh - why did you save me?” Stumbling to his feet, Rampart futilely attempted to dust off his uniform and stumbled towards Crosshair, shoes slipping on the dirt of the hill.

“I told you I’ve changed, it’s your own fault for not believing me.” Another moment, and Crosshair sighed deeply, reached down, and hauled Rampart bodily up the hill by the front of his jacket, ignoring the slaps the man aimed at his wrist. “You should be grateful, you know. My Imperial self would have thrown you out an airlock as soon as we’d secured the coordinates.”

Seeing Rampart draw himself up and inhale deeply, no doubt in preparation for another self-aggrandizing lecture, Crosshair seized him by the wrist and began dragging him back down the narrow game trail to where he’d left his brothers.

Shockingly, Rampart did not argue.

“Hunter? Hunter, come in!”

“Echo? What’s the situation?”

“CX-2 is in play. Do not use lethal force!”

Hunter, having tied off the bandage around Wrecker’s chest, peered out of the knot of roots where they’d taken shelter. The energy signature of the base was near enough to be a painful, staticky hum in the back of his head, and the warning sense of danger-danger-danger throbbed like a migraine behind his eyes.

“Do not use lethal force!”

It all happened far too fast - a whiff of Crosshair’s familiar scent, growing closer, Rampart’s sour fear-sweat odor close behind it. A rustle, faint but far too loud in the pervasive quiet that followed the rampage of a large, angry predator.

The sound of an exhaled breath and the squeak of a glove.

The whine of a blaster shot far too close far too close danger screaming in his mind and a shower of splinters sharp and hot against his face as the bolt struck the root beside his head.

A curse, a shriek, the sound of Crosshair’s Firepuncher stock squeaking against the pad on his chest -

“I repeat, do not use lethal force! CX-2 is - ”

Hunter flung out a hand, too late, too desperate, even as Crosshair’s finger tightened on the trigger - “Crosshair, wait!”

The bolt hit home.

CX-2 wavered, for a moment, rifle falling from his hands as a curl of smoke drifted up from the armor over his chest. His crouch on the broad tree limb above them became unsteady, and, achingly slowly, he fell.

The crack of his armor against the branches as he fell was nowhere near as deafening as Hunter’s pulse in his ears, and the broken helmet rolled away as the shadow trooper tumbled to a stop on the ground before them.

Hunter struggled to draw a breath, barely aware of Crosshair dropping his rifle as he fell to his knees beside the body, Crosshair’s hand shaking worse than ever as he reached out to touch that familiar, beloved face.

“ - Tech!”

#tbb speculation #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb fanfiction #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #angst

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tarisilmarwen · 5 days

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Are you still doing the Kick in the Pants Game?

If so, I'd love to ask for/hear more about "Relics" or "Kindred Lights".

I've been itching to get back to my strengths (whump and hurt/comfort) so I opened up the "Relics" doc and immediately wrote the scene where Ezra gets hurt. Go figure.

"A pity," Thrawn mused. "I had hoped, in the spirit of mutual curiosity and our shared appreciation for art, that you might be more cooperative, Lieutenent Wren." There was something vaguely unsettling in his bearing as he spoke, and Sabine felt a twinge of nervous anxiety as the man casually slid his sidearm from his hip holster. He studied the blaster in his hands a moment, gaze impassive. "But now I see that you require some… additional incentive," he said, ominously. He half-turned, leveling his arm perfectly straight and firing a shot. BANG! To her left, Ezra stiffened and gave a jerking shudder as the bolt tore through his stomach. He made a hitched little sound of shock and pain, eyes wide. "No!" Sabine shrieked in horror and outrage, surging forward. The troopers held her back, armored arms tight around hers as she scrabbled and scratched and kicked, trying to get to him. Ezra staggered, curling in towards his middle, where Sabine could now see a spot of red growing. "Bastard!" she screamed at Thrawn.

😈

Kick in the pants ask game

#mwah-ha-ha #star wars #star wars rebels #grand admiral thrawn #ezra bridger #sabezra #fanfiction #kick in the pants ask game #askbox #meme #whump #cute boys in peril #adventures in writing

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rezwrites · 2 months

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Shin hati brainrot

Shin Hati/Reader

Summary: Shin gets injured on a mission, luckily you’re there with her.

Warnings: injury, blood

a/n: slight au where shin gets off of peridea, and works as a mercenary instead of joining thrawn.

The wind harshly blew through the forest trees, crisp, dry air biting at your nose and fingertips despite the thick furs covering you. Snow crunching under your footsteps, muffling any sound coming from you and your blonde companion.

A few moons ago, she boarded your ship, seeking your services for her mercenary work. She rarely spoke, but you soon found solace in the quiet late-night games of holochess or cards; enjoying the way her eyes danced across the board, strategizing her way to win.

Her work took you across the galaxy, from the Outer Rim Territories to the lower levels of Coruscant. This current mission brought you to Kijimi, where Shin was returning spice to some Pykes in Kijimi City. Usually, Shin would leave you on the ship, but this time she handed you a small blaster and insisted on backup. Despite having seen her skillful handling of a lightsaber, disbelieving she needed help, you followed her up the mountain.

Unexpectedly, backup was needed. At the drop-off point, you were ambushed by thieves and heavily outnumbered. As you were fleeing, a stray bolt ricocheted off of a crate hitting Shin’s torso. Carrying her through back alleys, you finally reached the mountainside and descended to the ship.

Shin's ragged breathing and the blood dripping onto the snow were worrying. Wind picking up as she fell to her knees. "We're almost to the ship, Shin. Just a little bit longer," encouraging her, yet, she collapsed.

---

As you finished bandaging Shin, she startled awake.

"We're in the ship, you're safe now," you assured her, gently stroking her arm. She took in the familiar surroundings of the ship.

“Where are we?” She attempted to sit up, but halted when you lightly grazed her shoulders. Her face flushing as you laid her back down.

Upon her query, you explained, "I landed us on Kinyen for safety, in case anyone was following us." As you disposed of the bloody bandages, Shin relaxes and covers her eyes with her arm, both of you breathing a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry about your mission,” Sitting on the edge of her bed, you covered her with a blanket.

"There will be more." As you started to leave, she lightly gripped your wrist, hesitating, "please stay with me." Her plea touched you deeply, her eyes holding much pain and vulnerability, it broke your heart. Lying down she rested her head next to your shoulder, hand softly brushing yours. You both soon fell asleep together in the comforting silence.

#fluffy shin my bby #shin hati x reader #shin hati #divider by saradika

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is-there-an-echo-in-here · 8 months

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Strength in Duty

Read below or read on Ao3

...

Grievous played his usual game with them and Obi-Wan was determined, this time, not to allow the separatist general to escape.

He believed that they took Grievous by surprise as much as he did them, dropping out of lightspeed in a heavy nebula that glitched the scanners and essentially blinded them to their surroundings. Their cruisers had practically bumped into one another as they made their opposite paths through the nebula. Grievous had launched an attack in an instant, aiming for their engine room, their data collection, anything that would decimate Obi-Wan and his legion or give his masters the upper hand in the battle.

Obi-Wan guarded the main data point, where they stored the outpost locations, the Jedi general’s missions, the clone ranking lists. His commander was stationed at the engine room and, if his urgent call over the communicator was anything to go by, Grievous was making his way there, cutting down clones as they made hasty, final reports into the comms, ending in screams and static.

Obi-Wan left his post—left it in the very capable hands of a clone unit he had commandeered, but left it all the same—in favour of joining his commander, in fear of losing him.

He heard the death screams of his men over the comms as he ran down the corridors, and wondered if he would be able to identify Cody’s if it came. It was not a pleasant thought. It was a fear of his, one that concerned him greatly, because Jedi should not be afraid of loss. Jedi could not grow so attached, so selfish in their affections, and to fear the death of a clone of all people was, in Obi-Wan’s opinion, doubly concerning. Clones died every day. They gave their lives for the republic, for their brothers, for the Jedi, and Obi-Wan convinced himself that, although their loss was tragic, it was also honourable.

He did not know why it was so hard to convince himself of that in regard to his commander.

A flash of movement down the corridor spurred his efforts, sprinting after Grievous as he made a break for the engine room. Blaster fire erupted through the hallway and Obi-Wan rounded the corner to see Grievous advance on the commander and his men. The separatist general deflected shot after shot. Clones yelled in pain. Obi-Wan leapt for Grievous’ back, parried by a swinging saber.

A clone had a grappling hook around the general’s left arms. He and Cody were straining to hold him. Grievous cast a defensive slash at Obi-Wan, forcing him back a step and using his moment of respite to wrench the line forward, flinging the clone towards him and sinking two lightsabers deep into his chest. The dying choke let out by the man fuelled Obi-Wan forward in a fit of anger. Cody, similarly, fired off a merciless round of blaster bolts, avoiding Obi-Wan’s erratic movements with an expert precision.

It was just the two of them left standing. Obi-Wan trusted him completely. He was able to sever one of Grievous’ arms at the joint, tearing a mangled scream from their foe. Cody buried three shots in him, maiming his wrist of another arm, setting burning holes in his chest, and provoking the general to lunge at him with a frightening malice.

Cody dodged, rolled beneath the swinging arm, blocking Grievous’ escape now, grazing his head with another, rapid shot. Obi-Wan held position at the entrance to the engine room. He tilted his head when Grievous groaned in frustration and cast a glare back at him.

“I will accept your surrender,” said Obi-Wan with a crooked smirk, “and you can avoid any further damage.”

Grievous growled, guttural and defeated, turned towards Cody again, and Obi-Wan’s heart thudded. One saber swung back at him. The other thrust forward at his commander. Obi-Wan managed to keep Cody in sight as he dodged the mad swing, relieved to see that his commander avoided his own attack, and promptly panicked to watch Grievous snatch a hand to the front of Cody’s chest plate.

He slammed Cody against the wall so hard that, for a moment of stunned fear, Obi-Wan thought he had killed him too. He ran to his commander as Grievous took off down the hallway in retreat. Cody was pushing his hands to the ground before he even got there, shoving his helmet off to spit blood from his mouth.

“Commander,” Obi-Wan gasped, moving to crouch by his side, but Cody was shoving himself to his feet with a determined growl and with blood on his lips and teeth.

“I’m good,” he rumbled, and kicked into a sprint after Grievous, leaving Obi-Wan to followed, slightly bewilderedly, behind.

Another man would have stayed down. Obi-Wan had expected him to stay down, in truth, and not rise again unless aided by a medic, if at all. So often now, Obi-Wan expected to lose him. Every time, Cody proved him wrong.

They chased the separatist general back down the corridors, keeping a ruthless pursuit under Cody’s lead.

“He’s going for the hangar!” Cody huffed, and kept the speed as he lifted his blaster, firing rapidly at Grievous’ back.

Blaster bolts were deflected back at them through swinging blades. Obi-Wan pushed forward to protect his commander, slashing his lightsaber out and he scarcely had to aim. The weapon knew. The force knew. This man was theirs to defend.

A bolt slammed into Grievous’ jointed leg, stumbling him through the hangar doors. Cody launched himself forward with a shocking speed, sliding and rolling in front of the general and lifting his blaster in threat. The force lashed out for him. Obi-Wan wrenched Grievous back a pace and those hollowed eyes turned on him. A ragged chuckle jolted his frame.

“Your other soldiers died easier, Kenobi.”

Cody twisted a grimace of a mirthless grin, showing off the blood staining his teeth.

“This one still cannot be called a challenge,” the separatist general wheezed, lunging towards Cody, sabers swinging.

Cody ducked and weaved beneath the slashing blades, flicking something small and dark from between his fingers. It attached itself to Grievous’ left side as Cody rolled under the back-handed swipe cast at him, blaster aiming as he was still moving, firing before he had come to a complete stop, and hitting the item with blunt precision.

It detonated loudly, a fireball gouging a messy crater and severing both of Grievous’ left arms. He shrieked in rage or pain. Obi-Wan leapt forward to block the frenzied attack aimed at his commander, though he was beginning to suspect that Cody did not need his help.

Blaster fire rained upon Grievous as lightsabers locked in battle. Cody was merciless in his assault. Obi-Wan gave the same courtesy. The enemy general yelled in wordless, groaning anger, slammed a hard attack to fling Obi-Wan’s weapon from his hand. He dropped to his remaining limbs, launching himself at the Jedi in a furious frenzy. Obi-Wan had scarcely enough time to reach blindly for his saber before Cody was in front of him, holding Grievous back with his bare hands, straining to hold his wielding hands at bay.

Fighting not to gape in shock at his commander’s suicidal bravado, Obi-Wan summoned his own weapon back to his hand, lunging forward when Grievous yelled and tossed Cody aside. He hit the ground somewhere to the side with a loud thump of armour, and Grievous slammed Obi-Wan back again, leaping up and shattering his way through the cockpit of a fighter.

Footsteps behind him had Obi-Wan casting his arm back, catching Cody at the chest as he moved to pursue, because it was no good. Cody had tested fate so many times already during this attack. Obi-Wan’s determination to capture Grievous had ebbed away over the course of the fight, coming so close to losing Cody with every assault of the separatist general. The gust of the ship leaving the hangar had Obi-Wan slumping back to sit on the floor, catching his breath and feeling his bruises.

“Sir?” said Cody, sinking to one knee beside him, concern bleeding through in his voice.

“We stopped him,” Obi-Wan said. “We won.”

Cody gave him a stiff nod. “Yes, sir.” He looked the Jedi over. “Are you hurt?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Someone will turn up soon anyway. We caused quite a commotion.”

Cody huffed, fell back to sit beside him. “I suppose so.”

They caught their breath there, together, on the ground.

There was blood on the floor. Obi-Wan looked over to where it led, over to where Cody had landed in Grievous’ final blow, following it back to Cody himself, who turned his head aside to spit firmly. His face was a mess of crimson. It was coming out of his nose now as well as his mouth.

“Are you okay?”

Cody smiled faintly, looked over at him. “Nothing serious, sir.” He glanced back at the entrance to the base, bringing his hand up to wipe at the blood dripping from his nose. “The rest of the men were not so fortunate.”

Obi-Wan lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry, commander.”

The corner of Cody’s mouth twitched upwards briefly. “It’s what we do, general.”

Obi-Wan regarded the side of his face, the blood shining at the arch of his cheek, on the bridge of his nose, on the swell of his bruised lower lip. His face was a mess. His eyes and his heart were full of light and purpose that Obi-Wan both admired and feared. Cody was brimming with determination and courage and honour. Cody was prepared to die and, although Obi-Wan could not admit it, he was not prepared to lose his commander. He was not ready to be without that constant, comforting light that Cody provided simply by being.

“Something on your mind, general?”

Obi-Wan was staring, he realised belatedly, and cleared his throat as he averted his gaze. “You must forgive me, commander,” he said, explaining himself to Cody’s soft frown. “I believe I have been underestimating you.”

Cody’s lips curved gently at the corners. “They didn’t make me a commander because of my skill at paperwork, sir.”

“Indeed,” said Obi-Wan, taking the risk and wiping the blood from Cody’s jaw. The commander said nothing to challenge such intimacy. “Although, you are also good at paperwork.” He considered the events that had just unfolded, taking his time with his words. “Most people would have stayed down.”

Cody looked up at him. “I have my duty, sir.”

“And you do it well,” said Obi-Wan, “but you don’t have to address every sentence with ‘sir’ or with ‘general’… nor is it necessary for you to die for me.”

Cody’s eyes were very soft, very kind, and Obi-Wan was beginning to realise that it was his natural gaze, his inherent state. “I respectfully disagree, sir. With the latter more than the former.”

Obi-Wan looked him over, wiped at the bridge of Cody’s nose and a spark of pain narrowed the commander’s eyes. “Sometimes you give me the impression that you want to die.”

“I have no strong desire to die any time soon, sir,” said Cody, and his nose was red even beneath the blood, “but I am not so arrogant as to assume I will survive this war and, when I die, I will be glad to die for you.”

Concern worked Obi-Wan’s jaw. “Don’t,” he murmured softly.

Any embarrassment Obi-Wan may have felt for staring before was a distant memory now. Cody’s expression was soft and sympathetic. Cody always looked at him gently. Cody always looked at everyone gently.

He turned those same eyes on the squadron of men that breached the hangar, blasters raised for the threat, lowering instantly when Cody gestured a wave at them, and they rushed over. The medic among them came to Obi-Wan first. It had never sat quite right with the Jedi, that the men were trained to prioritise him over their own. Cody seemed not to mind, however, he cast that quiet smile at the men who knelt beside him to colloquially check his welfare.

“Not to worry, boys,” he murmured, clapping an anxious rookie on the shoulder. “Gave Grievous a good lick. Won’t be back too soon.”

“Chin up, sir,” the medic at Obi-Wan’s side ordered, fingers hooking beneath his jaw to tilt his head, flashing the scanner against his face and head.

“I’m alright,” Obi-Wan said, gestured a nod towards Cody. “The commander took a beating. I’d like you to look at him, please.”

“I understand, sir, but there is protocol to be followed—”

“I am overruling protocol at this time.” The medic lowered his scanner, shifted his jaw in conflict. “Please.”

The medic hummed, shrugged one shoulder as he looked to the screen built into his wrist bracer. “Your scans are clear anyway, general.”

He did as he was told, moving his attentions to Cody, instructing him to keep still as he passed the light of the scanner over his body, lingering at his chest. Obi-Wan watched his commander’s face, unchanged, watched the medic’s face, creased.

“Found some trouble, huh?” Cody uttered, huffed a strained breath of amusement.

“You’ve broken several ribs, commander. Your sternum is fractured.”

Cody hummed. “Up for a few injections then.”

He was remarkably calm, but, then, he always was. He got up by himself—though the medic held his arm and muttered concerns and the men around him frowned anxieties and twitched forward to aid him, waved off by a dismissive hand from their commander—and turned to Obi-Wan with a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Coming, sir?”

Obi-Wan quirked a forced smile to match Cody’s own. “As you wish, commander.”

Cody held a hand to him, as if to help him to his feet. Obi-Wan took it to honour him, but put no pressure on his hand, his legs holding every scrap of weight as he rose to his feet. His commander surely noticed, but said nothing. He was good at holding his tongue. It was necessary, in his line of work. If the Kaminoans had not stressed their duty of obedience so strictly, Obi-Wan was sure that Cody would be far more vocal about a great many things.

His commander was a good soldier, however, and he released Obi-Wan’s hand, turning to allow the medic to lead them out of the hangar and down the hallways to the infirmary. There was an almost imperceivable limp to Cody’s step, an inconsistency so minor that Obi-Wan may not have noticed if he did not know his commander so completely. He did not mention it, wishing to save Cody this façade of strength he was putting up.

In the infirmary, a scant collection of medics took the needle right into the split of the bone, using their scans to angle precisely into the break and injecting a scarce amount of binding fluid to each side. It would encourage Cody’s ribs to knit back together, like magnets attracting and melting into one another. It was a painful process. Obi-Wan had received the injections himself more than once and the movement they encouraged from the bone could be agonising. Cody took it without complaint, even continuing to type up his report with one hand, the holopad laid on the mattress at his side.

Men would come in at intervals, relaying news of the ship’s condition or Grievous’ escape, or simply seeking the advice of their commander, and Cody spoke to them all even through the needle piercing his side. Obi-Wan watched him, in utter awe of this man and his strength. He tapped into a holopad of his own, accessing the medical records of his commander’s current state, a file still being updated. He mulled over it from his seat in the corner of the room.

“General,” a voice uttered, dragging him from his snooping, and he lifted his gaze to another medic. “Is there anything I can do for you? Were you injured at all?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “No, I’m fine.” He shifted his jaw. “The commander is not.”

The medic’s brow pinched in soft confusion. “Sir?”

It was too personal, too transparent of his anxieties. Obi-Wan swallowed hard.

“How was he continuing like this?” he settled on asking.

The medic scarcely seemed to know what he was talking about. “We are soldiers, general. The commander, he was trained intensely, and he is greatly skilled.”

“His ribs were broken,” said Obi-Wan distantly.

“There is a reason he is our commander, sir. Our leaders are… brilliant and terrifying.”

Obi-Wan regarded the medic for a moment, tilting his head in interest, and turning his attention back to his commander. As he watched Cody take the injections with no word of complaint, type up his report with quick fingers, give straightforward orders and gentle advice to his men, ‘terrifying’ was not the word that came to mind. He had a great many thoughts regarding his commander, but that had never been one of them.

He supposed, if he were to ask Grievous, the separatist general may have newly inspired thoughts on the matter. Obi-Wan, certainly, had his own revelations today regarding his esteemed commander.

“There is a reason he is our commander,” Obi-Wan echoed, because Cody was his as much as he was his troopers’, because Cody was strength and courage and kindness, because Cody was light and life and Obi-Wan was in awe of him now more than ever. “He is brilliant.”

#obi-wan has a competence kink #i don't make the rules #commander cody is the most capable man I know #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #the clone wars #ao3 #star wars #tcw #clone wars #codywan #writing #fanfiction #kit writes #been a while since I wrote anything

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 1 year

Text

I Don’t Get Lonely

Crosshair & Omega

Summary: After a successful rescue mission on Mount Tantiss, Crosshair and Omega share a solemn moment aboard the Marauder. (written in third person omniscient)

Pairings: None

Characters: Crosshair, Omega, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, Tech

Tags & Warnings: spoilers for season 2, angst, lots of angst, hurt, comfort

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Notes: A companion piece to my original post. I kept thinking about it, and I really wanted to expand on the moment. I do write fanfiction, but not for this fandom. So this will be my first piece for The Bad Batch fandom! Please enjoy 💚

Their final mission, the rescue on Mount Tantiss, was coming to a close. With the help of Captain Rex, Commander Cody, Captain Gregor, and Commander Wolffe, and what was left of the Bad Batch, Crosshair and Omega were liberated from Doctor Hemlock’s grasp.

Hunter ran towards Omega, falling to his knees in relief, while wrapping his arms tightly around her small frame. She nestled her face into his neck and shed a small tear. “I was so scared you wouldn’t be able to find us,” she mumbled.

“I can always find you,” Hunter assured her as he loosened their embrace to look into her eyes. He moved her bangs away from her face and smiled fondly. “There’s nothing that can keep us separated for long.”

Omega leaned forward into Hunter’s chest as he lifted her off the ground and into his arms. His gaze then landed on the figure who was standing behind her, Crosshair. Their eyes met and for a moment there was a flash of tension, but it soon dispersed as Hunter nodded his head in thanks.

“Come on,” Hunter called as he motioned with his head in the direction they needed to go. “We need to get you both out of here.” Crosshair nodded in agreement, popped a toothpick in his mouth, and ran after Hunter towards the facility's entrance. No one needed to tell him twice.

As Hunter and Crosshair ran through the halls, they met back up with Wrecker who, along with Gregor and Wolffe, had set charges to destroy the cloning facility. “You found them!” Wrecker yelled with exuberance while running beside them. “Alright! Let’s get outta here and blow this place up!”

“We can’t get too cocky,” Hunter warned while still carrying Omega. “Reinforcements are coming up close behind us. Blasters at the ready.”

Crosshair stopped running, turned around, cracked his neck, then knelt down on the ground behind them with his rifle in hand. “I’ve got this.” He took aim through his scope at the mirrored pucks he had been leaving behind throughout the hallways in anticipation for this moment.

With a single exhale, he pulled the trigger. The blaster bolt angled off and bounced through the hallways like an expertly hit cue ball in a game of billiards. One by one, the facility storm troopers fell into their respective pockets. And with a final ping of the sunken eight-ball, he cleaned the table.

“Whoa!” Wrecker shouted in amazement, as if seeing it for the first time. “I’m glad you're back on our side.” He smiled and affectionately whacked Crosshair on the back, accidentally knocking him forward. “Ah, sorry,” he apologized while stretching out a hand to help his brother up.

“Of course you are,” Crosshair snarked. He stood back up on his own, knocking Wrecker’s hand away, then replacing the toothpick that was so graciously knocked out of his mouth. “Keep going.”

“The exit should be just ahead,” Hunter noted as he put his blaster back in its holster and ran forward. He was grateful for Crosshair’s intervention. Fighting while holding Omega would be quite a challenge. However, he wasn’t ready to put her down yet. Not until she was safe on the ship.

Waiting for them on the Marauder was Echo. Once Crosshair and Omega were retrieved, he had headed back to the ship in preparation for take-off to make sure all systems were a go and nothing would hamper their escape route. It was their last chance to escape.

“Hunter,” Echo called through the commlink. “The ship is ready for take-off.”

“Roger that,” Hunter replied. “We’re coming out to you now.”

The group reached the facility exit and continued to the landing platform. Once aboard the Marauder, Hunter strapped Omega into one of the safety seats, then took a seat next to Echo in the cockpit. Crosshair provided blaster support from the side to ensure no interruptions.

“Get us out of here,” Hunter commanded.

With a few flipped switches and pull on the controls, Echo piloted the ship off the platform and into the air. The ground troops and Crosshair exchanged blaster fire, but not for long. Once confirmation came from Captain Rex that all clones were out of the facility, Wrecker gleefully pressed the detonator.

One by one the charges blasted off throughout the mountain, sending the facility crumbling down on itself. Wrecker cheered from his position looking out of the Marauder. The mission was finally over. Hunter let out a heavy sigh as he leaned his head back in his chair and closed his eyes.

“Set a course for Pabu,” Hunter said without opening his eyes.

“Setting course for Pabu,” Echo repeated as he input the coordinates into the nav-computer. “Jumping to hyper-space in one minute.”

After jumping into hyper-space, Hunter got up and moved back to where he had left Omega. He pulled the safety cross bar up and brought her into another tight embrace. “Hunter,” she said with a muffled voice. She pulled away with a small laugh. “I can’t breathe when you squeeze me like that.”

Hunter lurched back in surprise with an embarrassed look on his face. It was all he could do to make sure no one would take her away again. As long as she was in his arms, no one could take her again. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I’m… I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” Omega giggled at Hunter’s overprotective awkwardness. However, her happy countenance soon turned into concern as she looked down the galleyway of the ship. “It’s Crosshair I’m worried about.”

“Crosshair?” Hunter wondered what she meant.

“He—” Omega stopped herself as she tried to find the words to say without getting emotional. “Tech,” she hesitated. “He didn’t take it very well when I told him what happened.”

Hunter sighed. With all the events that happened after Tech’s death, none of them had time to stop and process any of it or what it meant to them. Attempting to keep his composure, Hunter gripped Omega’s shoulder with his hand, lowered his head, and spoke softly, “He… he has to process it his way, just… just like the rest of us. He’ll be fine, in time, and so will we.”

Omega sniffled and nodded her head yes to Hunter’s words. She threw her arms around him for one more embrace, looking for reassurance that everything was going to be okay again. He obliged the hug and rubbed his hand up and down her back to comfort her.

They soon parted their embrace and Hunter scruffed Omega’s hair to lighten the mood before walking back to the cockpit to sit with Echo. She smiled softly and walked through the galley to her room in the gunner’s nest, passing Crosshair along the way.

Omega stopped before pulling the blanket open and looked back sorrowfully at Crosshair. He was sitting alone on his rack, staring across the alley at Tech’s empty rack. The sight broke her heart. She missed Tech too, but it was different for him. He blamed himself for his brother’s death.

She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and went into her make-shift room. Sitting down on her blanket and pillow, she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. It seemed emptier somehow, or at the least, less cheerful.

Looking around her room at the familiar things, she noticed her clone trooper doll near the base of the gunner’s seat. She leaned over her knees to grab it and looked at the doll with sad eyes. She clutched the doll to her chest and began to cry.

She wasn’t sure if they were tears of relief or tears of sorrow, but they were still a sweet release from what had been building inside her since they lost Tech on Eriadu. Even when she told Crosshair, while they were imprisoned on Mount Tantiss, she hadn’t cried.

It was at that moment Omega realized Crosshair was suffering from more pain than she was. His relationship with his brothers was already strained. She could go to Hunter, or Wrecker, or Echo for comfort. But Crosshair? Who could Crosshair go to for comfort? He was too proud to reach out.

She knew she had to help him in some way. He was her brother after all. She thought about ideas on how to overcome his pride and dignity as a soldier, while also giving him a way to cope and talk about his feelings. While fidgeting with her clone trooper doll, she got the idea.

Crosshair sat on his rack, staring across the galleyway at Tech’s empty rack. He mulled his toothpick over and over from one corner of his mouth to the other, lost in thoughts of pain, regret, and defeat. It was his fault Tech died. It didn’t need to happen, but it did, and he was the only person to blame.

The image of his brother haunted his mind as he tried to reconcile the loss of his brother with the gain of his squad minus one. He didn’t deserve to be part of the Batch any longer. He didn’t deserve to find solace. He didn’t deserve the love of his brothers, their respect, or their pity.

His destructive thoughts were rudely interrupted when Omega sat down next to him on his rack. He could see her feet dangling off the side with his peripheral vision and he huffed in amusement. If it was one thing he didn’t need right now, it was her annoying voice.

“Go away,” Crosshair said gruffly without turning his head.

Omega scooched closer to the cold clone. She wasn’t about to back down. She knew Crosshair could be aloof and downright rude when he wanted to be, but he couldn’t scare her away. She learned to understand that part of him back on Tantiss since they spent quite a lot of time together.

“Here,” Omega prompted as she reached out her open hand with a present.

Crosshair shifted his eyes to the side to look at what was in her hand. He brought his eyes back to the front and rolled them, releasing an annoyed sigh.

“It’s a clone trooper doll,” she smiled cheerfully. “For when you get lonely.”

“I don’t get lonely,” he huffed in disgust.

“I know,” she relented with a sad smile. “I’ll leave it here in case you change your mind.”

Crosshair watched as Omega gingerly placed the clone trooper doll next to him on the rack. She then got up and went back to her room in the gunner’s nest, only stopping to turn around and give him a small smile.

He sat on his rack in silence. The sound of his toothpick rolling around his teeth was all that he could hear and all that he wanted to hear. He glanced to the side and looked down at the clone trooper doll. It was a distasteful little thing, poorly stitched together, and of course, a reg.

However, something about it had a little charm. He would never admit it, but the thought she put into it moved his heart ever-so-slightly. He stared at the clone trooper doll and the doll seemed to stare back at him. He clenched his toothpick. How could something so dumb be so enthralling to him?

He looked to the left and then the right to make sure no one was watching him, then picked up the little clone trooper doll. The helmet wobbled back and he quickly put his finger behind it to keep it upright. It was such a little thing. So fragile. So innocent. So… comforting.

He lied back in his rack, still keeping himself upright, while he fidgeted with the clone trooper doll. He traced a finger around the outline of the helmet and sighed as he remembered a certain reg. “I made it back to my squad… Mayday,” he sighed again. “They came back for me. I think you would have liked them.”

He paused, glancing at his brother’s empty rack and then back at the doll. “Or should I call you Tech?” he said softly, a slight hitch in his throat. He let out a small chuckle and corrected himself. “Of course not. You’re not wearing those idiotic goggles. For someone so smart, you did something really dumb, you know that?”

He chuckled again, and again, and again, until his chuckles turned into soft crying. He rolled onto his side, pulling his knees up, and clutched the clone trooper doll to his face in desperation. His heart was broken. Not once, but twice over. “I'm sorry,” he cried. “It wasn’t supposed to be you.”

Masterlist

A03

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#tbbb writes #the bad batch fanfiction #bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfic #bad batch fanfic #tbb fanfic #the bad batch fic #bad batch fic #tbb fic #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb tech #the bad batch #bad batch #tbb

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cabezadeperro · 5 months

Note

Hellooooo for the spotify wrapped game can i ask fordo17 with 77, codex with 24 oooor qi'rahsoka with 2? 💕

i chose fordo17! the song was...... ain't no grave by johnny cash 😶

---

The shower room is busy, loud. Fordo’s bunk has a private fresher with a tiny sonic, but it’s broken: he takes off his shell and his blacks and pushes the button once, twice; and then it’s time to armour up again. He sends a repair request and then he makes his way down to the infantry quarters in a daze, and when men he half-recognises nod at him in greeting he nods back unthinkingly.

The noise in the shower rooms is nothing compared to the noise in his head. An awful, buzzing noise, it fills his skull, scrapes thought and feeling off his brain. Fordo showers, throws the dirty thermals in a chute, changes into clean ones. He armours back up and then he goes to the mess and eats something—later, he won’t remember what it was—, and after that he takes the turbolift to the bridge for a meeting.

He’s a perfect machine: he keeps himself alive and he does his job, and he does it all with that awful noise in his head. He listens and he talks; he plans and makes suggestions and pays attention to what is being said to him, and meanwhile his brain screeches static at him, because Jabiim has fallen and Seventeen is dead.

Fordo finishes his shift and returns to his bunk. The sonic has been fixed: he changes into PT clothes, goes for a run, takes another shower, and then he goes to bed, and six hours later his alarm wakes him up and he does it all over again. Showers, mess, bridge, gym. Like a bolt in the barrel of a blaster.

On day 7, the noise stops. And on day 8, Seventeen comes back to life.

#maría writes #ao3 wrapped writing meme #fordo17 #cloneshipping

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attonposting · 1 year

Text

So KotOR II, when you train your companions into Jedi, I think most of us immediately give our Force Friend Squad healing and lightning and whatever else is gonna make combat go quickest. But looking at them as people, what powers would they actually have an affinity for? What's natural for them to learn and use?

Atton cannot heal to save his life – and it would, given his tendency to get himself into trouble. However, what he does have a knack for is Revitalize, channeling his ability to hang in there and keep fighting no matter what. He's also got a nasty predisposition towards a couple of dark side powers, especially Force Choke. At first Atton is pretty irreverent about how he uses the Force – a blaster bolt or an exploded guy, dead is dead, so what's the difference? - but the issue is that, as before, he likes it. And he doesn't want to feel that anymore. Atton would also be quite good at mind tricks, being both a duplicitous asshole and an ex-assassin with specialized training on how mental domination works, but it's a moot point because he stubbornly refuses to learn them.

Bao-Dur's first foray into the Force involves learning to manipulate the currents in droids – they're the easiest energies for him to connect to, and disabling or overloading machinery from afar comes naturally. What also comes naturally, unfortunately, is Force Scream, especially when they land on Dxun and all his old war wounds are torn open. Canderous joining the crew was not a good time for him, and honestly, when Bao-Dur talks about how he feels calmer in the Exile's presence? I think it makes a lot of difference whether this chat happens before or after Dxun. Bao-Dur's a whirlpool beneath a calm surface, so psychic blasting people with repressed anger and pain hits pretty right from where I'm standing. He has to work a little harder to learn Force healing, but channeling his energy into reconstruction is something he eventually strikes a deep, quiet connection with.

Mira was the hardest for me to peg, at least with the game's power roster. We already know what she's best at through the Force – a strange combination of hunter's instinct and empathy, where she can find people by understanding how they think and what they need. There's no power equivalent to that, though. What I do think she'd excel at is Stun and Stasis. It's part because she always strives to disable people without killing them, and part because that's kind of her whole aesthetic (or at least that's what the design team would like us to believe, smh) – appearing nonthreatening and then taking you down before you ever realized you were in danger. A non-Dark-Side Mira would have a lot of trouble with blatantly lethal powers like Force Lightning and Force Choke, and if she doesn't, that's allll on the Exile's freaky influence warp.

Brianna is a master of combat buffs – at first mastering her own body, and then channeling that near-preternatural surefootedness to her allies. Master Speed, Force Valor, deflecting blaster bolts with her bare hands, it's all in her wheelhouse. Can totally see her in the middle of a pitched fight tossing people around with Force Wave, literally leaping across a battlefield with lightsabers flashing and landing with a shockwave that throws a dozen men back. Girl could go very anime if she wanted. Let's face it, she's earned it.

Mical is absolutely a healer. Guy already had medical training, and more importantly, he is friend-shaped. It's not something that companions can learn or use in-game, but I think that persuasion would also be in his wheelhouse – not for the sake of domination, but out of a sincere desire to seek better solutions where tempers, greed, and pride otherwise rule. Like, c'mon, he becomes a senator in some of his endings – now imagine that, but not completely disillusioned with the galaxy. He could cut you down, but he'd really rather you go home and rethink your life choices. I think there's strong grounds for him getting Force Enlightenment down the road, which is another exclusive-to-PC power that's beyond the scope of many Masters. Mical has about the most complete view of the Jedi Order anyone could aspire to, understanding without excusing its flaws and the easy pitfalls the Code can lead to while still truly believing in the good it can do for the galaxy.

Visas joins the party pre-equipped with a bunch of Dark Side powers, which makes me weep. Like, Force Horror? She's projecting the overwhelming trauma of Katarr. Choke and Lightning? You know Nihilus used them on her liberally. It's awful. But I'd like to think that on a Light Side run, as she grows into her own, she develops different affinities. I get support vibes again, but for Visas, it's about endurance, and sharing what she's gained with those who helped lift her up – Force Barrier and Energy Resistance, Force Aura, maybe Force Resistance. She can still wield her grief and her anger, but it doesn't rule her – she's not like Atton, where those powers hold a real and present danger for his psyche. She still feels that pain, and she's unafraid to use the darkness when necessity calls, but it's not the only thing that fills her heart anymore.

#kotor #kotor 2 #kotor ii #atton rand #bao-dur #visas marr #mira #brianna #the handmaiden #mical #the disciple

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arctrooper69 · 2 years

Text

Hold Still

You won't sit still while Tech tends to your injuries so Crosshair helps out in a rather... unconventional way.

Was going to save this for Whumptober 2022 but I couldn't wait and patience is not my strong suit.

Warning: Broken bones, injuries (not super graphic I don't think)

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You had always thought that taking blaster fire for your friends was honorable and heroic; however, you didn't count on it hurting this kriffing bad.

The fighting had been intense. You and the bad batch were sent to retrieve imperial information and of course - like most of your missions - it hadn't gone quite as planned. You'd taken down a couple of imperial troopers when you heard a grunt from behind you and you quickly turned around. A vibroblade weilding trooper lay dead with a smoking burn hole in the center of his forehead. To your horror, you realized that he had snuck up behind you and nearly killed you. You glanced up to meet the eye of your silver-haired savior. The sniper smirked at you.

Maker, he's hot.

You must have gotten distracted because suddenly a blaster bolt nearly took your head off. "Get your head in the game, y/n!" Hunter shouted at you. You blushed heavily. He'd caught you staring at Crosshair and that most definitely meant that Crosshair caught you staring at Crosshair. You shook your head, trying to clear the goofy smile you were sure was plastered all over your features. Taking a deep breath, sobered up with Hunter's orders, you dove back into the fight. Scanning the area, your stomach dropped as you saw a trooper take aim from afar. Hunter was engaged with two others. He didn't see them. "Look out!" you yelled and without a second thought you launched yourself at Hunter, knocking him out of the way. He only received a few scratches. You nearly lost your leg.

"Y/n, can you hear me?" Tech's voice sounded muffled. You tried to answer but the pain was too much and you could only groan in response. Tech frowned and furiously typed something into his datapad. Where was Crosshair? Why wasn't he here? Of course there would be no actual need for him to be here. Yet here you were desperately looking for the sniper who'd been occupying your dreams since you met him almost a year ago. The pain made it so hard to think. It made it hard to hear. It made it hard to breathe. You faintly heard Tech again. "...need to breathe..." You yelped and instinctively jerked away as Tech tried to reposition your leg, sending agonizing spears of white hot pain through your body. "I need you to stay still, y/n." Tech said firmly. You tried to breathe but found that everything was happening so fast. Too fast. "She doesn't look so good," a gruff voice sounded by your side.

Crosshair

You lifted your head from the pillow to look which immediately turned out to be a terrible idea. A wave of nausea hit hard.

So dizzy

"...'m gonna be..." you tried to speak to warn them. Someone pressed a bucket in front of you and you gagged, releasing everything you'd eaten that day. A firm hand grasped your shoulder, easing you back down. Everything hurt and the lights were so bright. Tech's careful movements in front of you caught your eye and you panicked. "No don't touch it!" you cried, trying to bat his hands away. Tech sighed, a little annoyed but mostly just worried, "Y/n, I've given you all the pain medication I can safely give you. It simply takes time to kick in." But you didn't care. It was all too much in the moment. "Crosshair!" you sobbed. Right now you didn't care if everyone found out about your crush on their brother. You just wanted comfort and a distraction and you knew that Crosshair could give you both. Tech looked across the room from the bunk you were laying on, beckoning his brother over. "You need to hold her still," he ordered. Suddenly Crosshair stood over you. "Y/n," he growled, "you need to hold yourself together. Can you do that or do I need to tie you down?" You nodded to let him know that you'd behave but as soon as Tech went back to your leg you jerked away again in agony.

"Crosshair!" grunted Tech as your hand nearly smacked the goggles off of his face. Crosshair looked down at your tear-stained face and smirked. "If you don't settle down, doll, I'm going to restrain you myself." He wouldn't. Tech started his ministrations and once again you jerked away from his grasp. Without warning Crosshair straddled you with his knees pressed tightly against your sides and his hands pressed your shoulders into the bed. You looked at him in shock.

"I told you I'd restrain you myself if you kept moving." He growled, then smirked seeing your pale cheeks turn pink. You felt hot but you didn't think you had a fever.

"Well that's something at least..." Tech muttered aloud to himself. Between the pain meds kicking in and Crosshair's body restraining you to the bed, you hardly noticed Tech start working on your leg again. The last thing you saw before falling into a deep sleep was the crosshair tattoo on the sniper's face. As you drifted off, you could've sworn that his usual steely gaze had softened ever so slightly. But there was no way that someone like Crosshair could ever have feelings for someone like you, right? It was probably just the meds.

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melishade · 3 months

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#46 What if Optimus appeared in the first episode, the armor titan engages with Optimus

This ask game

Well I do have to write the Episode 1 pilot anyway, so this is a good start. For more context: Part 1

When he reached the gate, the Armored Titan had almost bulldozed his way through the gate, but Optimus rammed the titan into its side, causing the two of them to crash into multiple houses. Optimus transformed into his bipedal mode and punched the Armored Titan twice in the face, but the Armored Titan grabbed him and threw him off of it. Optimus easily landed on his feet and skidded to a stop. Optimus the Armored Titan looking panicked and terrified, scrambling to its feet to try and fight back, but Optimus bolted and tackled it to the ground and the rubble.

The Garrison atop the houses and walls watched in stunned silence at the sight. That Metal Titan was fighting the Armored Titan. Titans were fighting amongst themselves. And from what some had seen earlier, this Metal Titan was protecting humanity! What kind fucked up situation was that?!

Optimus used all of his strength to pin the Armored Titan to the ground. "Stay down!"

Optimus grunted when the Armored didn't listen and smacked him in the face hard with its arm. Optimus rolled across the ground and crashed into a few houses. Optimus sat up and watched the Armored shed the armored plating behind its lower legs before bolting towards him. Optimus quickly transformed and drove backwards, leading the Armored further and further away from the gate that was now reopening to take more civilians.

"Go! GO!" A Garrison screamed at the civilians as they ran through the gate.

"Is there still a boat here?!" Hannes demanded, still carrying Carla in his arms, with Eren and Mikasa close behind.

"Hannes, what the hell are you doing?! Get back to your station!" the Garrison ordered.

"Not until I get them to safety!" Hannes shouted.

The Garrison looked annoyed and conflicted but pointed behind him, "Get to the boat before it leaves!"

"C'mon!" Hannes ordered the children as they continued running. Eren couldn't help but look back at the chaos happening behind them. A titan...fighting for humanity? A titan...that saved humans? It was surreal, a reversal of everything he ever knew, and stuff he felt needed to be called into question.

Optimus skidded to a stop and drove in a circle, tripping the Armored and causing it to slam into the ground face first. Optimus saw cracks form in the Armored face before running and punching it in the face to the ground. Optimus grabbed the creatures arm and used all of his strength to twist it. The Armored had size going for it, but it clearly lacked battle experience. Optimus knew where to press his pedes, where to put more strain to twist. He let out a battle cry before twisting the arm clean off and tossing it to the side.

Optimus was distracted by that moment of victory when the Armored used the remaining arm to smack him in the chest. Optimus yelled in pain at the sensation, and the Armored used its remaining arm to grab him and slam him into the ground. Optimus could feel pain shoot up his back. He could feel the dirt and debris scratch his paint and metal plating, but Optimus grit his teeth and endured the pain. Optimus transformed his servo into a blaster and aimed it directly at its face. Before the Armored had time to process, Optimus fired, shattering the cracked, armored plating in one go. The Armored yelled in pain, scratching at its face to try and get rid of the energon burning in its muscle. Optimus jumped and smacked the blaster in the Armored face, knocking it to the ground. Optimus then used his blaster to blow off the left leg of the Armored, causing it to cry out even louder.

Optimus saw that it was immobile and stood atop it. He aimed his blaster directly at the titan's face. For some reason, he managed to catch tears streaming down that charred face, but the Prime chose to ignore it. There were too many lives currently at risk, and this titan was going to raise that causality count even higher by destroying that gate. He had to make a decision.

Optimus charged his blaster at the Armored's head, blowing it clean off, and leaving nothing but the nape of the neck. Optimus watched the titan body crumble and decay, no doubt due to the energon he fired. Organic material would not survive the full force of energon based weapons.

However, Optimus was alerted to the chaos that was still happening and the titans still running rampant across the town. He noticed a human flying towards him with that strange contraption around his waist. "Evacuate the humans! I will deal with the titan threat!"

"Wait-!" Hannes watched the titan run towards the hostile titans in the around Shinganshina.

(Of course, this will be edited, but this is more of a rough draft. Anyway Free Game: 34, 36, 37. 17 and 26 have has been asked.)

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wolveria · 4 months

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gimmie my boy please (wip game)

One Crosshair, coming up ;)

It was a trap.

The night was calm, without any movement, and that was how you knew. You could have warned the rest of your team, but you weren’t here to hold their hands. If the got caught in a trap, it would only aid in flushing out the hidden insurgents, and that was fine with you.

You were all disposable tools, discarded once your use to the Empire ran out.

“Leave at least one insurgent alive,” you said, the filters on your mask distorting your voice. “I will interrogate them myself.”

Mere seconds later, ES-01 stepped on a pressure plate and activated several reprogrammed battle droids, including an impressive number of super battle droids.

Amateurs.

The ES troopers ducked behind whatever bits of encampment they could find, and you sensed CT-9904 heading for higher ground. He, at least, was intelligent enough to not get pinned down.

You didn’t bother to run for cover, you simply walked forward, letting the Force guide you as blaster bolts sped past you from both sides. You only ignited your lightsaber when two super battle droids got in your way. You cut them down without straying from your path, ignoring the rest of the droids. The remaining three ES troopers could handle the bulk of the pathetic force, especially with the covering fire from the clone sniper.

In the end, it wasn’t difficult to find the scouts. With your lightsaber extinguished, your robes blended into the night like a specter, and you slayed two of them before the third realized the fight was already over.

You indicated he should kneel before you, and he did, sweat coating his face underneath is round helmet.

“Where are the rest of your friends?” you asked, low and serene. “I know there’s more than you three. Perhaps they’re standing by to extract you?”

The rebel shuddered, but despite knowing his life was yours, he met your eye.

“You’re a Jedi,” he spoke through clenched teeth. “Why… why would you do this?”

Your own teeth wanted to be bared, but you simply held the red, burning blade near his cheek.

“Does this look Jedi to you?”

The fear in his eyes was quickly overtaking the bravery.

“Tell me where they are, or I start cutting.”

When the man remained silent, you brushed the blade against the side of his head. The effect was immediate, as was the sizzle of burning flesh and his muffled scream. It had only been a glancing blow, but his ear was permanently ruined.

Tears trickled down his face to join with the sweat.

“Save… save us both some time…” he said, the trembling worse now. “…And kill me. I won’t talk.”

You crouched next to him, your words soft. Almost sympathetic.

“Everyone breaks eventually.”

He cried out as you grabbed him by the nape of his neck and forced him to the ground. Extending his arm under your knee, you raised your lightsaber, the blade humming louder as if eager for the impending bloodshed.

The blade never came down. Danger and alarm rang through the Force, but when you looked up, you were still alone. It was not your own danger you were sensing.

With a jerk of your hand, you forced the insurgent into a sedated state, and then took off at a sprint. You leapt over and cut your way through the battle droids you couldn’t avoid, giving one last jump that sent you halfway up the nearby cliff face overlooking the camp.

You propelled yourself up the rest of the way, urgency fueling your muscles as you cleared the edge.

The clone was on his back, bleeding through several slashes in his armor. The vibrosword responsible was held in the hands of a droid commando, its yellow markings indicating it was specialized—the kind of droid that would know to sneak up on a sniper rather than face him at a distance.

It raised its sword above the clone, and you jammed your hilt into its back, activating the lightsaber.

The blade erupted through its chest plate, and you calmly removed the vibrosword from its hands before gravity could finish what the droid could not. You tossed the weapon aside and kicked the droid in the opposite direction, making sure it stayed down in the dirt.

CT-9904 stared up at you, panting either from pain or trying to catch his breath, but his teeth were clenched in clear dislike of you. Your lightsaber continued to thrum in your hand, bathing him in a red glow, until you finally extinguished it.

Picking up his fallen weapon, you tossed it back to the clone, and he caught it in one hand.

“Get up,” you said. “We still have a mission to complete.”

#inquisitor!reader #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #wip game #crosshair #annwayne #sorry these snippets are getting so long #i had to convert them from outline form and then just kept going

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