#the bad batch hunter x reader oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imabeautifulbutterfly · 3 months

Note

A glorious idea has spawned in my brain

Hunter x Criminal!reader where they have a Batman/Catwoman relationship, however this time Omega meets the reader and absolutely adores her so the reader decides to stick around a bit (despite Hunter's protests). During this time, the reader and Omega form a mother/daughter and Hunter secretly loves it and falls for the reader everytime he sees her with Omega

Hello my lovely anon,

Thank you for such a fantastic request. I hope I did your request justice. The setting is Season 1 of Bad Batch, so hopefully you don't mind too much. I wrote with f!Criminal!reader, hope that's okay. Reader has a nickname.

Enjoy.

Also, since this isn't part of the Fic Roulette request, it'll be filed under the One Shots Master List. It's a little longer almost at 2400 words.

Love oo,

Not Ready

Warnings: Slight thieving, Omega in danger, dangling from a tower, banter, angst, fluff, shooting, dangerous driving, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

Part Two

AO3 Link | OS & MS Master List | Main Master List

“Give it back, and we can just both walk away.”

You twirled the rather large knife in your hand, “Hmmm, no.”

Hunter clenched his fists, “I said, hand it over.”

“And I said no.” You smirked underneath your mask, the only thing visible on your face were your eyes. Eyes so full of cockiness, determination and experience. “I gotta ask though, why so long?” You chuckled, “Compensating for something?” You flipped it back and forth in your hand, twirling it around your palm and the back of your hand. “Has good weight.” You smirked as you arched your brow, “If you know what I mean.”

“I don’t have time for your nonsense!” Hunter looked behind, sensing the Imperial troopers closing in, he let out a sigh, and before you even realized what was happening he tried to stun you.

Unfortunately, he missed thanks to your ability to sense when danger was imminent. Without even thinking your body back-handspringed away from the blue stun blast. “That was rude.”

“Listen, I need to get to my sister, and I don’t have time to mess around!” Hunter could hear Tech on his comms as he described Omega hanging from the tower.

“Your sister’s in trouble?” All teasing and flirting died on your lips as soon as you heard that.

“Yes!”

You nodded and tossed the knife back to the chiseled red-bandana wearing man in front of you, “Let me help.”

“No. You’ve helped enough.” His tone full of annoyance and frustration. He grabbed the knife and took off running towards Omega, ignoring the pang of regret from his tone. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know he was running to help Omega. Yet, the frustration from having to waste even a minute on you was more than enough to make him worry about Omega’s safety and that’s all that mattered.

His feet came to a sudden halt when you appeared in front of him with a speeder bike, “Hop on!”

“What?”

“Just … I feel bad, ok! Now shut up, and get on!”

He didn’t delay, jumping on the back of the speeder holding on to your waist tightly as you weaved through traffic.

“Where is she?” You shouted over the noise of the air rushing past your ears.

Hunter didn’t respond and simply pointed to the person dangling from the tower, as another helmeted person neared her position.

You sped up the speeder, you’d know Fennec’s helmet anywhere. You weaved and dodged against the oncoming traffic, almost as though you could see where and when the next vehicle was going to be turning or shifting. Your heart nearly dropped as you saw the tiny person slip, driving faster and more dangerous to catch her in time.

Hunter reached out his hand and grabbed a hold of Omega’s in midair, tossing her onto his lap, pinning her between the two of you. “You okay, back there?” You shouted to make sure everyone was safe as you saw Fennec jump down and commandeer a vehicle of her own chasing after the three of you.

“We’re fine. Get us out of here!” He shouted as he quickly checked over Omega to make sure she was uninjured and safe. He couldn’t see much from how she was clutching to his chest plate, but it didn’t seem like she was in pain either.

“You got this?”

“What?”

“I’m asking if you know how to drive a speeder?”

“Yeah! Why?” He didn’t clue in to what you were preparing to do until you flipped over him and landed on Fennec’s vehicle.

“Hey gorgeous!” You smirked as you looked at her.

“Ugh! Should’ve known you’d be here.” Fennec answered, rolling her eyes as she tried to keep her eyes on her target.

“Wasn’t supposed but I sort of owed him one. Back off.” You stood aiming your blaster into the hood.

“No can do, little Butterfly.”

Force you hated that nickname, somehow it had stuck among the bounty hunters and assassins, simply because you were quick and light on your feet. Dazzling them with your antics and before they even realized you slipped out of their sight, blending into the crowds more often than not.

“Fennec, I like you, but you need to back off!”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Nothing.”

“I’ll split the reward with you, if you help me capture the little girl.”

You tried to stay balanced as Fennec tilted the vehicle side to side, “You disappoint me, going after a child.”

“Jobs a job, honey.”

You shook your head, “I warned you,” you shot your blaster into her engine, jumping off onto a nearby transport, watching as her engine began to sputter. She jumped to safety standing on the closest terrace she could find, as she watched you and her target move further away. You jumped down, finding your way back to the ground, hoping from one transport to the next.

Once you touched solid ground, you looked back up to see Fennec turn and walk away. ‘Until next time, gorgeous.’ You mumbled as you headed back to the marketplace, before you even got five feet away, you felt your body jerk forward as tiny hands wrapped around your waist. You looked down to see the blonde girl, the rather striking man had rescued, his sister.

“Uh… thanks, kid. I think…” you giggled as you pulled her arms away from you.

“You saved me!” She beamed with a brilliant smile as she looked at you.

“I think your brother did that. I just drove.” You subtly shook your head, subtly moving away from the overwhelming bundle of joy.

“She has a point,” Hunter offered, “if you didn’t show up with a speeder when you did …” you could tell on his face he didn’t want to think about what might’ve happened.

“Listen, Fennec would’ve come up with something. She’s a bounty hunter, but she’s a fairly decent one. Anyway I’m glad you’re safe,” you patted the little girl’s head, “take care of yourself and your brother. Seems like he gets into trouble easily.” You turned to walk away when she gripped your fingers.

“Come with us.” She pleaded looking at you with big eyes that were asking for more than you were prepared to give, or have given to anyone since you could actually remember. It was nice to feel needed, but it was too much.

Hunter wanted to grab Omega and pull her away from this woman who showed up, and was constantly surprising and making him feel uneasy at every turn. “Omega, we don’t know her circumstances. She’s probably already committed to something else, right?” Hunter narrowed his eyes on the helmeted woman in front of him, not wanting her to take the invitation Omega offered.

You’ve seen that look a thousand times before. It said everything that really mattered, you weren’t welcome, and he wanted you to leave as soon as possible.

“Don’t worry,” you started keeping your eyes locked on the man standing behind Omega, “your brother is right, I’m … currently … occupied with other matters.” You smiled as you turned your attention to Omega, and kneeled before her, “Omega, right?”

She nodded, not letting your fingers go.

You smiled and pulled out a collapsable vibroblade, “This is Vala,” you flicked your wrist and opened the vibroblade, “my father gave me this when I was about your age, he told me ‘this galaxy is full of good and bad people. Sometimes the good outweighs the bad, and sometimes there are too many bad, you won’t be able to find a good one. Vala, will always be there to protect you.’” You turned her hand palm-up and placed the vibroblade in her tiny hand. “It will protect you. Ask your brother to train you on how to use it. Never rely on someone else to save you, in this galaxy, sometimes the only person you can count on is yourself. Take care, Omega.” You ruffled her hair one more time, before standing up and walking away without looking back.

It felt strangely comforting to be wanted, even if it was for a brief second.

“Wait!” Hunter shouted, causing you to turn around, “We left your speeder that way” he pointed over his shoulder, you couldn’t help laughing.

“Don’t worry about it, handsome, it’s not mine.” You smiled and walked away.

Omega turned to Hunter, a saddened smile on her face, “Why couldn’t she come with us?”

“Omega,” Hunter kneeled, “we don’t know who she is. Whether she can even be trusted? It’s best if she goes her way and we meet up with Wrecker, Echo and Tech.”

“But…”

“Omega, I know you have a good heart, but you’re too trusting. It’s best if we keep a low profile and avoid entangling ourselves with people we don’t know. Come on, we gotta meet back up with the others.”

He guided her back to the hangar trying to avoid the Pantoran police force and the troopers that seemed to be searching for someone.

Omega kept watching as one Pantoran guard held up a picture to a passerby, it was a picture of you. She pulled on Hunter’s sleeve and pointed to the Pantoran’s datapad.

“They’re looking for her.”

“We should go…” Hunter tightened his grip on her hand, but she refused to move.

“We have to help her.”

“We don’t know why they’re looking for her. She could be a wanted criminal or a murderer, a thief.”

“Hunter, please. She saved me, it’s the least we can do.”

He looked at the picture and commed Wrecker, “Wrecker, where are you?”

“Just entering the marketplace right now, why?”

“I need you to take Omega back to the ship, I …” he turned his head to look at Omega, “I have to repay someone who helped us get Omega back.”

Wrecker walked through the crowd faster than the others as people naturally moved out of his way, he stood in front of the both of them, tilting his head. “Who, you helping?”

“Don’t worry about it, just get Omega back to the ship and tell Tech we need to take off the minute I get back. Make sure Echo makes it back to the ship too. We may have to get out of here faster than expected.”

“Copy that” Wrecker picked up Omega and had her sitting on his shoulder as he headed back to the hangar with her.

Hunter could hear the comm chatter between Wrecker, Tech and Echo. He let out a huff and shook his head, this was just asking for trouble. He ran back, heading the way you were walking. It wasn’t long before he found you sitting at a cafe sipping on something warm.

“Came back to tell me you love me?” You teased him.

“Came back to tell you, you’re in danger.”

“Shocker.” You didn’t react or flinch, as you kept your eyes locked on the man’s eyes.

“I need to know, are you a murderer?”

“No.”

“Do you have a bounty on your head with some crime boss or something?”

“No.”

“Then get up” he grabbed your arm and forced you to stand, grabbing your helmet as he pulled you along, running behind him.

“Wait… hey!” You stopped in your tracks and pulled your arm out of his hold, “Who the hell do you think you are, pulling me like that? You know I have the right …” he put a hand over your mouth and pushed you into a darkened alley, hiding you with his body as a Pantoran patrol passed the two of you.

“They’re searching for you, and not just the police. The Imperial troopers are looking for you too.” He stepped away and handed you your helmet, “Listen, I don’t care what happens to you, but Omega was worried, and I’m not going to disappoint her. You’re warned. So you can either go back out there and try and avoid whatever trouble you got yourself into or…” he let out a sigh regretting the words that were about to come out of his mouth, “You can come with us and we can drop you off somewhere.”

“Us?”

“My brothers, Omega and myself.”

“Why are you helping?”

“Like I said, I don’t want to disappoint Omega. So what’s it going to be?”

You looked at him and then at the increased patrols you hadn’t realized were slowly filling up the streets, they all seemed to be looking for you. You closed your eyes and tapped your helmeted head against the wall, “Alright. I’ll trust you. Lead the way.”

He stepped closer to you, “I’m taking a chance on you, you put any of us in danger, and you and I are going to go another round, understood?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fine. What do I call you anyway? Because I don’t think ‘stuck up jackass’ would work.”

“It’s Hunter, and what do I call you? Because I don’t think ‘crazy tooka’ works.”

You smirked as you looked at him, “You can just call me Butterfly. Hunter.”

“Fine. Now let’s go. Butterfly.”

“You know I’m not as bad as you think.”

“And hell is just a sauna, shut up and follow me.”

As much as you tried to fight the urge to smile, you couldn’t help but enjoy the banter you two had. You also couldn’t help but examine his physique as you followed behind him, moving around the crowd, ducking and avoiding capture until you made it to his ship.

Omega ran to you and hugged you again, “I knew he’d find you, come on. Let me show you inside.”

She gripped your hand and dragged you along. You weren’t looking for family, but … as you moved closer to the ship, there was a strange sense of belonging that came from meeting the rest of her brothers. For the first time in a long time, you felt at home.

Hunter watched you and the way Omega gripped your hand, as you introduced yourself to Wrecker, Tech and Echo. He had to admit, you were attractive, when he saw you without your helmet, he almost felt his tongue getting all tied up. Not to mention, the outfit you wore also drew attention to your physique which didn’t help. He didn’t know why but he had a feeling this could either be a really horrible idea, or it would be a very pleasant surprise.

AO3 Link | OS & MS Master List | Main Master List

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

170 notes · View notes

replaytech · 21 days

Text

okay just imagine hunter teaching you how to throw knives😫🤝

tbb hunter x female!reader (warnings: use of a weapon)

You were grateful that hunter hasn’t noticed you staring at him yet.

You had been watching him for a few minutes. You couldn’t help it. The sight of him throwing his knives and hitting the targets perfectly was… well, to be blunt, hot.

He throws another knife and hits the dot that he had drawn earlier, “You see something you like?”

His back is still turned, but you know that he’s talking to you, “I hate it when your super tingle snitches on me.”

He lets out a half laugh, half scoff and looks at you, “My super tingle?”

You give him a serious nod, “Yes.”

He turns away from you to grab his blades from the trees, “Are you just gonna stand there or let me teach you how to throw?”

You snort, “Thanks, but I’m more of a blaster girl.”

Hunter flips the knife in his hand, “What? Afraid you’ll be bad at it in front of me?”

You roll your eyes, “Oh please, I could do this easily.”

He continues walking towards you with a small smirk plastered on his face, “And you say i’m the one with an ego problem.”

You hold your hand out, “Let me see one”, you gesture to the blades.

He starts to give you one but retracts his hand, “Not so fast.”

You put your hands on your hips, “Oh here we go.”

“Your patience and positive attitude isn’t like any i’ve ever seen.”

You laugh and playfully hit his shoulder, “Shut up, hunter.”

He chuckles and goes to stand behind you, “Here, show me how you hold it before you throw”, he gives you a knife.

As you hold the weapon, you’re hyper aware of hunters presence behind you. He’s so close that you can practically feel his armor on your back.

His hands go in front of you to adjust your form. All you can do is watch what he’s doing.

Hunter speaks low next to your ear, “There you go, hold it just like that.”

He moves his left arm to your shoulder and keeps his right on your throwing arm, mimicking the throwing motions, “Make sure not to release too early or too late. Too early will make the throw too high and too late will make it hit the ground”, he says with his armor fully touching your back.

You swallow and nod, embarrassingly affected by how close he is, “Got it.”

You feel hunters lips come close to your ear, “What, princess? Am I making you nervous?”

You scoff and try to sound as confident as you can, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Unfortunately, he steps away from you, “Try it by yourself.”

You try to remember everything he told you as you hurl the knife at the tree, missing the target by about a foot.

“Not bad, for an amateur anyway.”

You scoff, “Hunter isn’t impressed with me, whatever will I do?”, you deadpan.

He walks towards you and looks down at you, “Don’t tell me you missed on purpose so I would help you again.”

You nod, “Yep. My heart longs for your sweaty glove hand to rub all over my forearm again.”

“They aren’t that sweaty.”

“It feels like you dipped both of my arms in the river.”

He laughs softly and looks you in the eye, “Well maybe I want to help you again.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “I guess.”

“Woah now, don’t sound too excited.”

You laugh as he moves behind you to help again, “Last time you relied too much on your wrist. Use your arm instead, like this”, he moves your arm with his.

He lets go of you so you can try again on your own. This time, you actually hit the target.

“Atta girl.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile, “Are you intimidated? I might best you in our next mission.”

Hunter laughs, “I’ll have to keep having these sessions with you if you want those results.”

144 notes · View notes

theogfulcrum22 · 5 months

Text

🐺IM FERAL ABOUT THIS MOMENT WITH HUNTER AND ELARA @cloned-eyes 🐺

#elara come get your wolf!#wolf!huntertbb #the bad batch #star wars #tbb hunter #bad batch oc #bad batch hunter #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #star wars smut

347 notes · View notes

sinfulsalutations · 1 year

Text

𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙 𝕖𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪𝕤 𝕞𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪 ⋆*･ﾟ

Sometimes when he's right next to you.

"You have a piece of food stuck in your two front teeth."

"Why didn't you just tell me that... out loud? You're literally right next to me."

"I was already on my datapad. Craning my neck up and talking would require more energy. Wanted to save the time."

"...Sure, Tech. Thanks for telling me."

"Of course, dear."

Sometimes it's when he's away from you; his thoughts can't help but come to what he's missing.

"I saw a blooming Eucharis grandiflora while on a mission. Made me think of you. I have it tucked into a pocket in hopes of giving it to you when I return. It'll look even nicer in your hair, I believe. A picture is attached to the end of this message. Miss you endlessly, dear."

Other times it's funny little observations he would've kept to himself before.

"Crosshair seems more grouchy than usual today. I wonder what has got him hissing like a lothcat."

He'll message you in mass about whatever has raked his brain.

"Must finished a new coding project. I've really enjoyed learning the 'outdated' Coruscanti standard coding language, I do not know why they would change it, the commands are easy to use and they execute its orders well, and the new one is far too derivative I might say after using both..."

He's messaged many times:

"You look very nice today."

And in succession, send something along the lines of:

"Of course, you look nice everyday, but more so it feels in this moment. I hope I didn't cause any doubt or confusion, cyare. You're never not enchanting."

He'll ask you to grab things:

"Would you please go get me an R4 switch from the top shelf? I would, but I'm quite cramped under the board here. A thank you in advance."

And your favorite message you've gotten as you were falling asleep mindlessly scrolling on your data pad:

"I see you dozing off, dear. Go to my cot and rest. I'll join you soon. Goodnight, I love you."

a/n: bouta get on a plane in a few hours, wrote this at the gate while very bored lol. hope u enjoy the nonsensical tech brainrot 🤍 ~ tags: @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower

652 notes · View notes

oceansssblue · 18 days

Note

Hello, I hope that you are having an amazing day. If requests are still open, I have a funny Star Wars prompt/or/oneshot if you want. You know how in Top Gun, after Maverick flirts with a lady at a bar, only to find out the next day that she is his superior officer. What about a similar situation in the Clone Wars era, in which one of the members of the Bad Batch, or one of the 501st like Fives, flirts with a female Jedi reader (who's probably in her early twenties) at the 79s, not knowing that she is a Jedi General. Only to find out the next day that she is the Jedi General assigned to them for their next mission.

Her appearance in the bar makes her look nothing like a Jedi. She just looks like a civilian until she is in her jedi robes the next day. She doesn't deliberately deceive them or anything. She just wanted to unwind after an undercover mission. She just didn't think bringing up that she is a Jedi was important, she assumed they already knew. The only hint she gave on their "date" night was a happy and playful "see you tomorrow" as they part ways to get to their respective homes/barracks. She is happy to see them the next day.

Cool fun little oneshot! Decided to go with Crosshair, seems more like his thing.

Hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"SEE YOU TOMORROW"

CROSSHAIR/F REDADER 📩💖

WARNINGS: ALCOHOL, FLIRTING&TEASING.

Your muscles still ache after a two year undercover mision in Alcaz. Spending long hours of running and hiding in the capital will do that to anyone; even a Jedi. Your first mision with the Order started years ago; even if you're still young right now. Everyone starts early these days; you went from youngling to padawan and Jedi Knight in just a blink of an eye. The war makes you feel older than what you really are.

It's weird being back in Coruscant. Back in a normal setting were you don't need to constantly be aware of your surroundings –even if it's instinctual, now–; where you're not constantly in danger. Entering 79's, your eyes quickly flickering over the crowd of tipsy clones and the dance floor, a tiny smile makes it up to your face. You feel inmediately relieved, somehow. You don't need to pretend here. You don't need to be a soldier, a Jedi Knight, a General. You don't have responsabilities and lifes dangling from your shoulders. Here, right now, you can just be you, a simple girl in her twenty-two's.

Happy smile still in your face, you make your way towards the bar. You order a sweet drink light on the alcohol side to start with; turning around and taking small sips while you scan the bar distractedly. There's a few eyes on you already. Not because you're necesarily pretty –though you believe yourself to look alright–; but simply necause you're one of the few natives around here, and more so a woman. Clones will always be ever the gentleman, it's ingrained in their discipline, their sense of honor; but they're still men, real humans, and they have urges like everyone else. Like Jedis do, too, no matter what many people think.

You're not really in the mood for sex, though. You're too tired for that; your plan is to spend a few hours drinking and chatting and then return to the Temple. You've got a meeting tomorrow, and you should make sure you get your well deserved, comfortable sleep. You're almost drooling thinking of a bed already, but you'd like to unwind a bit first; even though your body is tired, you feel your mind too active to surrender to dreamland yet. Plus, you need to disconect from your previous mision and adapt to your new situation; to the new changes.

A few troopers that you had the chance to meet before starting your jump around the galaxy to serve to the Jedi and the Republic recognises you, and you quickly find yourself chatting amicably in a booth with them. They're kind, and perfectly respectful; they speak to you as if you were a normal person, though –not a general, not a Jedi–, and you soon fall into a relaxed posture and a lazy smile. None of you speak about war, about their fears and worries; but of hopes and desires, jokes and secret lovers that await for them patiently all over Coruscant. Some look flustered after realising they've confessed such things in front of you; but you just shake your head and smile. You're glad they're finding some happiness wherever they can.

On your third drink in –and probably the last one, judging by your flushed cheeks and the low hum of carefree excitement & arousal spreading inside of you– you feel another stare on you. It's heavy, it's intent so clear it's almost screaming at you; and you listen to your Jedi instincts, eyes slowly flickering around the bar to find it's owner.

You come up with a pair of dark brown eyes. They're the exact same shade of most of the clones in the GAR; and yet, it's stare so much more intense. It could almost cut through you and hit someone on the other side.

You study him curiously in the same way he has been observing you before. Even sitting down in a booth with some other soldiers, you can tell he's taller than most; the shape of his body and muscles long and thin, agile, though still strong. It's impossible not to notice the tattoo around his right eye; it fits him well, really. What surprises you most about him –besides his stare– is his hair, though; a mix of greys so pretty it almost shines under the lights of the 79's.

He's still dressed up on armour, like a lot of other soldiers on the bar. His is black and grey with a few stripes of dark red; a white skull with a "99" underneath it on his right pauldron. It's right then and there when you understand who he is, who they are; and your eyes twinkle in amusement, your smile widening. This is Clone Force 99, the squad that will be under your command. The Council told you they were different, that they had special abilities very useful for battles; but they fail to mention you they were literally, physically different as well.

You understand... Crosshair's –he must be– cautious and curious study then; he might be wanting to find out who exactly their new General is, and how does she behave when she's not on duty like everyone else.

You shoot him a grin and Crosshair's neutral, almost uniterested face turns into a smirk. He arches an eyebrow, and makes a gesture with his head; a welcome for you to join them in their table. You nod and say your goodbyes to the troopers; smiling and shooting one or two more playful comments before making your way across the room, walking confidently to this squad of extraordinary men.

"Hey there, boys" you greet them, deciding for informality in order to not spoil their night of fun from the start. "Care if I join?"

There's various reactions around the table. Crosshair looks amused. Echo and Tech are purely surprised –the later one quickly scanning you almost as if trying to find information about you with just his eyes–; while Hunter looks hesitant. Wrecker is openly excited and happy.

"Yeah, take a sit!" He pushes his brothers to one side, making room for you in the circular booth their sitting in, ignoring the other's quiet, pained grunts.

They all look a little tipsy too.

You chuckle and take the offer, letting down your drink on top of the table and sitting besides Wrecker. Crosshair arches his eyebrow again, still finding amusing how you seem confident enough in a table –a bar– surrounded by men. He likes confidence in a woman, but such levels are a bit more rare.

"Comfortable?" He asks, his voice deep and smooth, almost a lazy drawl, and you grin back at him.

"Very" you answer, emphasising your answer by taking a long sip of your alcohol and laying lazily against the booths backrest.

After holding his stare for a few seconds, you turn your attention back to the rest of the group; scanning them curiously. They do de same with you.

"So, didn't have time to do a change of clothes?" You point out. "Did you come back from a mission today, or is this just an night outfit choice?"

Wrecker laughs, will Echo and Hunter show a tiny smile. Tech is completely serious still, lost in his thoughts without tearing his eyes from you. Crosshair also stares at you.

"We came back from a mission a pair of hours ago, yeah" Hunter finally answers, relaxing slowly. "Thought we should enjoy a bit of freedom before getting back to work tomorrow".

His voice is deep as well; a bit more soft yet raspy.

"Ah" you answer, smiling guiltily. "Got it. Well, I'm not going to cut out your fun, no worries. Feel free to drink and chat as much as you like. Also... This is still a good fit. Beautiful armour, guys".

This time Tech blushes, Echo clears his throat in silence and Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair, all smile widely. Ah, yes, you forgot; armours are precious to all Mandalorians, including clones, and you could have very well call them...

"So you think we're hot? That it?" Crosshair drawls, eyes interested.

You laugh shrugging your shoulders. Yeah, well, you might be a little too tipsy. This is definitely your last drink if you want to keep things professional. Force knows if you weren't a Jedi and this weren't your men you'd have had already tried to take one of them home. Huh, it seems you're not as tired as you thought.

"Pretty" you correct him, if only to mock him a bit and play with him.

Crosshair's stare darkens and you can feel his arousal and want calling you through the Force.

You smile down playing with the rim of your glass distractedly, and feeling a sudden wave of shyness. Alcohol is a dangerous thing.

The thought makes you giggle a bit.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The night goes on, and you switch to a non-alcohol drink as promised to yourself. The conversation turns normal and more easy as the clock ticks by; all of them being very interesting, fun people to chat with. Crosshair and Echo are more reserved than the rest; different types of quiet observing and thoughtfullness. You suspect the second one isn't as comfortable with your presence as the rest –while you have no doubt that that wouldn't suppose a problem in battlefield, you know he's an excellent soldier–; while Crosshair... Crosshair's intentions are still quite clear.

He's bold, you have to say. Most troopers wouldn't want to risk being reported for misconduct even if they know most Jedis would just gently shut their intentions down if it were the case. Clones usually don't want to risk it; though it's evident that Crosshair doesn't think you will or plainly, doesn't care.

It doesn't bother you. He's attractive, and it feels good to be desired; you're a Jedi, but you're also just twenty-two, and you can't help it yourself. Still, you're nothing but polite to him, if only a bit of playfullness here and there. You're not going to go to bed with him, not before your oficial meeting; not while you can still resist.

You sigh with a smile.

"Well, boys, it has been a pleasure" you start, standing up and patting Wrecker's shoulder besides you. "But I think I'm gonna go and try to shut an eye. Have your fun without me, see you tomorrow!"

Tech eyes widen slightly, observing your retreating figure while Crosshair makes a move to follow you out of 79's.

Tech grabs his brother's shoulder and pulls him back down, ignoring Crosshair's almost snarl.

"She expressed her desire to go to sleep, Crosshair. Let her be" he opted to say, still not 100% sure of his theory before proving it with a quick search on his datapad.

Crosshair sighed and gulped down the remaining of his drink.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

No matter that the Batch had left 79's pretty late in the night, they were all rised and prepared to meet their new General at 0600 puntually. Their faces carried nag under their eyes and various degrees of tiredness; but they weren't being shipped anywhere, so there was no real problem with that. It was just a formal meeting so they could put a face to the name and greet each other; then they'll be left alone to enjoy the rest of their shore-leave day.

"I hope she's nice!" commented Wrecker while they waited up in a line in front of the Marauder.

Hunter hummed.

"I just hope she lets us do our thing" he muttered, clearly not very happy about the new placement.

None of them were particularly enthusiastic; they had never had a personal Jedi General before, and it would be a big change for everyone involved.

"I am confident she will" answered Tech, perhaps the only one holding positive thoughts about it. "I have thoroughly researched our General in the early hours of the morning and she has an impressive record on undercover missions and other side tasks. It seems she is usually sent on unusual requests as well, just like us. In adition, she is fairly easy going. I am positive we would all be able to adapt to each other well".

Right when Wrecker was going to ask with a deep frown etched on his face how did he know she was as "easy-going" as Tech affirmed, a female figure crossed the doors of the hangar walking towards them with wide confident steps.

Wrecker's, Echo's and Hunter's faces stared back in shock; while Tech nodded firmly as if he were explaining something to them, and Crosshair followed the young Jedi's movement full of intrigue and a masked surprise.

"Morning, troopers!" She greeted them, still a few meters away from them.

Her smile was radiant in the greyness of the hangar bay.

Crosshair leaned towards the smartest of his brothers, subtle.

"Punishment for fucking your Jedi General?" he asked in a distracted whispered, eyes never leaving the woman aproaching them.

Tech answered completely unbothered by his antics; posture firm.

"From an informal reprimand to proper decomissioning".

Crosshair smirked.

"I'll risk it".

He arched an eyebrow in amused defiance when she looked straight at him.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taraaa! Here it is love, hope you like it! It was a little fun cheeky thing to write :)

Not checked after finishing writing it cause I have exam tomorrow and still got a few finals left, but I hope I didn't make a lot of mistakes!

Only two more requests left before I jump onto another tbb Mermaid fic. Don't worry, yall, I will reopen requests the future, just let me survive my exams first ;)

Stay tunned!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to masterlist here:

118 notes · View notes

sokkadora · 3 months

Text

we can’t be friends — crosshair x fem!reader

inspired by: we can’t be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande

summary: a clinic on pabu offers to erase the pain that came along with crosshair leaving the batch, but how will he react once he gets back and sees you with his brother?

a/n: crosshair and the reader never had an established relationship for this fic, but reader had a deep love for crosshair! also NO hunter hate on this page that is my man :P also i might make a part 2 but idk

wc: 2,078

warning(s): angst, no happy ending for this couple bb, flashbacks, memory wiping, reader has poor self/body image, kinda smutty but it's crosshair so, friends with benefits, unrequited requited love for hunter

︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .

‘You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give “Brighter Days Inc.” the exclusive permission to remove this person from your memory:’

Stopping your pen under the last word, you hesitate.

‘Maybe this was a bad idea,’ you think with a soft sigh, glancing at the woman in the room across from you; one seat for her, and another for her box of memories. Yours sits beside you, the weight of what you’re about to do hits you quickly, and suddenly any notion of even looking at the box makes it feel like a ticking time bomb.

The woman across from you strokes a thumb across what must be her late pets collar, and you quickly revert your gaze down to the sheet of paper again. The tip of your pen hovers over the “No” option, but drifts over to the “Yes” box, checking it off, and finally, signing your name at the bottom of your page.

The necklace dangling over your neck feels like iron against fae skin as a nurse comes out of the back room, door quietly creaking open as she calls your name. You stand quickly, handing her the paperwork and the pen with trembling hands before grabbing the box labeled “Crosshair” and walking inside.

MEMORY WIPE INITIATED

“Please, Crosshair?” You beg sweetly, dragging him across the arcade to a claw machine, finally having a bit of free time on your shore leave.

You’d been trying to convince him to have a break together with the both of you for a while now, away from the boys and the riff raff of the military, but per usual, he was stubborn about it. He’d offhandedly said how childish it was of you to want to play games with him at an arcade instead of your usual… activities, on shore leave. But you got him to agree, seeing as he can barely ever resist how cute you look when you beg.

“Hellcat, this is ridiculous,” Crosshair crosses his arms and glares down into the machine at the plethora of stuffed animals inside. Your eyes had been on the small lothcat in the middle since the both of you had arrived, and you’ve bugged him about it enough that he considered it. “Even Wrecker knows these are rigged.”

“Where’s that overcompensating confidence?” You tease, pulling out a few tokens and placing them in his hand softly. You glance up at him with a soft and pleading look, one that you don’t yet know (and will never know) gets him weak in the knees. “Please, Crosshair? For me?”

At the sight of your big doe eyes, he scoffs, loading the coins in and barely holding back a smile at your excited squeals and the hand shaking his shoulder gently. It takes him a minute to get a hold on the controls, but after some peeking around the corner of the machine and some naturally perfect aim, he lowers the claw and catches the lothcat.

You gasp, watching excitedly as it stays in the claws grip as it moves over to the prize dump, and as Crosshair retrieves it for you and holds it out.

“Happy now?”

You grin down at the stuffed animal and then at Crosshair before lunging forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders with an breathless laugh, “Thank you.” You grin, nuzzling into the side of his head, and pulling away before he had to chance to hug back.

Overwhelmed with the happiness of the moment, you barely notice the room going dark before the feeling of Crosshair’s surprisingly warm gaze leaves you. You look up, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden void of the arcade.

MEMORY SUCCESSFULLY ERASED.

“Cross?”

“Yes?”

“Am I ugly?”

Crosshair’s gazes narrows, glancing at you as you lay under the covers of your bed. He lifts his arm to hold up the blanket better, glaring at you, but not angrily as tears begin to well in your eyes. He shakes his head firmly, grunting.

“When I was a kid I thought I was,” You started, having his full attention from the second you walked in the room. You scoff softly at yourself, “I can’t believe I’m crying already, sorry.”

Crosshair doesn’t reply, but instead simply reaches over and wipes your tears; a gesture he never would’ve done in the first months of the arrangement the two of you had, but things had changed. You’d changed him.

“I was so lonely as a kid,” You say softly, the words just pouring out of you. “I don’t think anybody realizes how lonely kids are, even after growing up. We just sort of stop paying attention. Like they don’t matter.”

You sniff, and Crosshair doesn’t seem to want you to stop, so you keep going; relishing in the feeling of his warm hand covering your cheek.

“So, I’m like… eight or so. And I have this really pretty girl doll, that I named after myself that I’d just get so frustrated with,” You wipe your nose with the back of your hand, expecting the embarrassment of sharing the personal memory to rise, but it never comes. “It was some standard I’d hold myself to and whenever I’d find myself not liking myself, I’d look at her and it’d get me so mad. I made it to encourage myself, but it was just a constant reminder of my shortcomings as a person. It’s weird. Like… if I can make myself that pretty, maybe people would finally like me,” You finally glance up to meet Crosshair’s gaze, finding that it’d softened into something unreadable to you.

He leans over and plants a firm kiss on your mouth, his hand sliding down to grasp the sides of your neck before he pulls back. His hands start wandering down with his mouth that keeps peppering you with kisses, softly murmuring the word ‘pretty’ between each kiss. You writhe under his touch, a hand rising to cover your mouth as a warmth shoots down to your lower stomach. You relish in how safe you feel under him before he… he…

MEMORY SUCCESSFULLY ERASED

“Why won’t you come home?”

Your voice echos through his head as he stares out into the vast horizon where Tipoca City used to stand; where the home he grew up in with his brothers and met you in used to stand. He scoffs, glancing back at you from over his shoulder.

“That is not my home anymore,” He says in a low tone; a warning to anyone else, but you knew you had a bit more leeway with him. Fists clenching at your sides, your gaze narrowed into a glare. “Now leave. Hunter’s staring after you like a kicked dog,”

You don’t bother to glance back at the man you already knew was waiting for you, but at the mention of his name he seemed to back further into the ship to give you some privacy, trusting that Crosshair wouldn’t hurt you, of all people.

“This isn’t about him, Crosshair,” You snapped, “Come home. Please. I need you, and so do your-”

“I don’t need you,” Crosshair says sternly, pivoting on a foot to turn to face you with a cold glare. You reeled slightly at the look; you’d seen it before, but never aimed at you. “I never had and I never will. And if you were as smart as you made yourself seem, you’d join me on the right side of the battle. Just like how I thought you and Hunter didn’t have anything going on,” You open your mouth to correct him; he knew there was nothing happening between Hunter and you. He was your best friend, but Crosshair beat you to the punch, “But I guess looks can be deceiving, huh?”

It felt like a clear blow to a vulnerable moment you’d shared with him— only him — and it nearly sent you to tears. You reached up, taking the necklace and snapping it off your neck with a harsh glare in the sniper’s direction; another look that had never been sent directly at him from you, but one that he found made his heart break.

“Fuck you, Crosshair.”

MEMORY SUCCESSFULLY ERASED.

The sense of overwhelming dread that filled your chest and sank down into your belly had you jolting awake, eyes darting around the mundane white room as the panic of what’s happening begins to set in.

The heart monitor picks up its speed, and the two nurses rush to your side as your hand shoots up to grab and fidget with your necklace. You’d fixed it from when… when…

Why did it need to be fixed? Who broke it?

Who gave it to me? What was his name? Cross…

The nurse grabs your shoulder as your throat tightens with your hands grip on the jewelry, “Can I keep this one? Please?” You sob, managing to smile through tears at the nurse to your right, “Please let me keep this one.”

‘Crosshair!’ You think, another sob scratching it’s way out of your throat. ‘What am I doing?’

The nurse glances to her coworker and nods gently. She comes to rest her hand over yours, and you let the necklace fall against your chest, but you rest a hand over it protectively. If you couldn’t save your memories of him, maybe this could be the one thing that you do save.

MEMORY WIPE RESUMED.

You can feel yourself being jolted around before finally landing in another memory, your head resting on a warm, firm shoulder and your hand gripped in a strong one in your lap. The person you’re resting your head on… they sit up, and hand you a box which reveals a necklace that relates to your namesake.

You grin, but the figure in front you shifts which causes you to look up.

Hunter.

He’s smiling at you softly, they way he almost always had; save for the first time he met you. You grin back to him, leaning forward on the couch from your kneeling postition to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He returns your embrace without hesitation, and you allow yourself to feel how perfectly the both of your bodies meld together. The warmth of his body under the civvy clothes you held for him in your personal dormitories on Kamino sank under your own, causing you to pull away.

You barely notice how the room around you starts to shift, any objects affiliated with C4!@#??? begin to disappear, whatever holds your mind in it’s grasp seems determined to keep your attention on the sergeant sitting before you on the couch when you pull back from the hug.

‘Hunter gave it to me…’ You look up at him and smile lovingly, ‘of course he did,’ before leaning over and slotting your mouth over his.

MEMORY WIPE OF ??? COMPLETE.

The nurses gently help you up out of the chair, removing the device from your temples as the doctor comes to greet you. Another nurse holding a box hauls it out of the room as you shake the doctors hand and thank him profusely, grinning at the light and happy feeling on your chest as you turn to embrace the nurses in thanks. The woman at the front desk hands you an envelope of slips to give to your family and friends, and you thank her on the way out.

After leaving the office, you enter the outside of Pabu to find Omega waiting for you. Grinning you sneak up behind her, lifting her up and spinning her around. She shouts your name, but you can hear the smile in her voice as you set her down.

“How are you feeling?” She checks you over, and you smile dotingly down at her.

“I’m alright,” You ruffle through your bag, the feeling of the necklace against your chest making you feel giddy. ‘Why did I feel so bad about it before?’ You think, but quickly shake it off and pull out the envelope. “The secretary said to give this to family and friends, but I don’t think I’m supposed to see.”

Omega curiously takes the large orange envelope from your hands, opening it and reaching in to find a ticket that said that you had:

‘Y/N L/N has erased Crosshair (CT-9904) from her memory. Please never mention their relationship to her again.’

Omega glances up to where you’re walking off with an arm looped through Hunter’s and feels a sense of dread fall to the pit of her stomach.

#crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #crosshair x y/n #crosshair x oc #the bad batch x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch #star wars #my work #zoe's works

113 notes · View notes

mythical-illustrator · 10 months

Text

For @staycalmandhugaclone the final drawing

From their story Docs Adventures, Found Footage Chapter (go check it out, it's a bad batch x reader)

the Doc and her boys cuddle for the night after a stressful evening out

I was really nervous about this one because it's a larger more detailed piece than I've done before or really in a while. But I'm happy with it 😀

Art master list

This is not cl0necest, just emotional support for someone special.

* The bed is based on star wars hotel rooms.

*I had to screen shot the paragraph I pulled this from to get everything perfectly. Hopefully I got it all 🙃 so many limbs 😩

177 notes · View notes

techs-goggles9902 · 3 months

Note

Oh oh oh Imma request something 🤔🤔

How about.... female character/reader who is unsure about how she fits in with the bad batch and Tech reassures her?

Was even thinking about my oc Raven and maybe our female character/reader is unsure of her relationship with Hunter and seeks out Tech for (brotherly) assurance 🤔

You can do it however makes sense 😊 also no pressure 💖

Female reader x Tech (platonic)

Summary: You're unsure about your role in the batch and you talk with both Raven and Tech.

No warnings. Fluff and stuff

Word count: 863

a/n: Raven is the lovely oc created by @hellhound5925 ! Go check her out! Sorry Raven doesn’t have a huge role but she’s here! I hope I did her justice 🙏🏻

You sigh, bending over to pick up another piece of mantell mix.

These things are everywhere! Wrecker, I swear…

The light chatter from the cockpit reaches your ears as you discard the snack in the small trash bin in the corner of the Marauder. The squad, excluding Tech, are talking about the latest mission.

Hunter, sitting in the pilot's seat, smiles gently at Omega as she exaggerates how she hustled a man on the last mission in a game of dejarik, earning enough credits to fix the ship.

“Oh, and then I took out his Ghhhk! He said he’s a ‘Top Tier Player’ but he wasn’t! Hunter, you wouldn’t believe how he put himself in a bad position. Backed himself in a corner!” Omega rants with a grin, making big gestures with her small arms, imitating the game characters.

Wrecker gives a big, hearty laugh as she continues. Echo sits back in the co-pilot’s chair, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his pale lips. You watch as the girl keeps proudly going on and on about her victory.

You joined the Batch a few months after they began working for your employer, Cid. Ever since that day where you accompanied them for a mission, you were essentially adopted into their merry band of clones.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you sigh again. Although you’re “one of them now”, you still feel as if they have their own little circle that you’re not a part of. How long will it take for them to see me as one of their own? I’m more than capable…

“Hey, you okay? You don’t look the greatest…” A familiar voice says.

“Raven, hey. I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Just… contemplating things, I suppose.”

“K’olar,” Raven says, pulling you to the nearest bunk. Lowering yourself onto the bunk, you pick at your nails. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m… not 100% a real squad member. I’m the last addition, not romantically tied to anyone, and just… here,” you admit. Raven has been your lifeline ever since joining the Batch. Both of you are non-clones, even if she did train them, and you related to her the most.

“Vod… I… I felt that way, too, when I first came along.”

“You did?” Raven nods.

“Mmhmm. This tight knit group with a very good looking sergeant-”

“Okay, okay!” You both laugh, easing your nerves. This is why you’ve always liked Raven, she knows how to cheer you up. Always.

“Cyare, c’mere for a sec,” Hunter calls from the cockpit. Raven gets up and sighs, mouthing the words, so needy, making you giggle once more.

“Why don’t you go talk to Tech? He listens,” she suggests, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze as she walks past you.

You watch her go and you see a foot dangling from the ceiling panels. Tech…

You push yourself off the bunk and you stand beneath the opening in the ceiling and watch Tech tinker with the ship’s innards.

“Tech?”

“Hm? Oh, hello, vod’ika,” Tech replies, leaning over a little to see you better.

“You don’t need to call me that. I’m older than you are,” you say with a quiet giggle.

“Well, given the fact my brothers and I age twice as fast as the average being, I am technically older than you, vod’ika,” Tech says with the faint trace of a smile, emphasizing the nickname.

You scoff with a smile, climbing up into the ceiling with him. He’s slightly hunched over because of his height, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.

“Can I ask you something, ori’vod?” you ask, fiddling with one of his tools. Tech hums in acknowledgement.

“I’m not sure if I… If I exactly fit in with you guys. You’re all brothers and I get that but I don’t feel-”

“Vod’ika, you’ve been one of us since the moment Hunter asked you to stick around. Omega especially felt that you would make a good friend, and I agree,” Tech cuts you off, looking away from his tinkering and directly into your eyes.

“I…I’m a good friend?” You ask.

“We may not have known each other very long, but you are an adequate fighter and an even more valuable member of our squad.”

Our squad… Our squad…

“You think so? Hunter… He’s nice and all but… We haven’t really bonded I guess,” you say with a small sigh.

“Vod’ika, Hunter has to put up with Omega and Wrecker, has to find us jobs, feed us, and still sees himself as our leader, our sergeant, our protector. I’m honestly astonished he hasn’t gone gray with all the stress,” Tech remarks, that little smile tugging at his lips. That little grin is so contagious, managing to make you smile as well.

You’re about to say something else when Tech continues, “Echo will come around eventually. He’s lost brothers and he’s distancing himself to save him the pain of losing a sister. I’m sure he’ll soon realize you’re not going anywhere.”

Not going anywhere…

“I guess I’m stuck with you, huh?” You say with a smirk, nudging Tech’s elbow.

“For the long run.”

Glossary:

Cyare = beloved [sha-rey]

K’olar = come here

Vod’ika = little sibling [vohd-eeka]

Vod = sibling

Ori’vod = big sibling [ori-vohd]

Ghhhk = character in the game dejarik

Taglist: @fionajames @sevdidntdie @will-is-silly @skellymom @dangraccoon (feel free to tell me what you want or don't want to be tagged in!)

Dividers by @saradika

#star wars #sha speaks #clone troopers #the bad batch #tbb #the clone wars #tbb tech #clone trooper tech #tech x reader #tech x you #platonic #raven skirata oc by hellhound #tbb echo #tbb hunter #tbb omega

51 notes · View notes

skellymom · 4 months

Text

"Sunset Over Pabu"

Hunter X OC/Reader One Shot

Word Count: 910

Background: An "Old Love" relationship. Nostalgia. Saying Goodbye. Using planet and star interchangeably. The celestial body in this fic is a Moon, similar to our planet Mars it reflects light so the appearance is a shining star.

The inspiration for this story came from @lightspringrain artwork. Including the link to her Etsy shop and image of "Hunter's Moon"

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1556715876/star-wars-the-bad-batch-omega-or-hunter?ref=yr_purchases

There are parallels to the first time Mad met Hunter in this fic. To read how they met, here is the link:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/738467105361494016/vagabonds?source=share

Warning: Sadness.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

They snuggled close on that settee just as they did the first night meeting on Ord Mantell. In between trips off world, children, weddings, funerals, holidays, and all manner of life Hunter and Mad carved out while on Pabu to watch the sunset together. Approximately 10 standard cycles of building a bonfire on the beach and cuddling up together to watch the sky turn deep shades of crimson, purple, and eventually black. Gazing at the stars as they cycled by with the seasons in the night sky.

The broken settee was resurrected by Hunter’s own hands when they first settled. He built it strong enough for two. A solid foundation so it would never break again. Mad helped weatherproof it to withstand the ocean salt. Together, they performed maintenance when needed, so it would last for many years. A continuing project and labor of love.

In addition, a firepit was constructed to hold the burning heat kept within. Hunter and Mad collected stones on their travels around the galaxy. Bringing back chunks of memories to line into a continuing never-ending circle. Occasionally family and friends would add their own additions when returning to Pabu. Wrecker kept his eye out for oddly shaped or colored rocks while fishing and would surprise them with a new addition already stacked against the ring.

Tonight, Hunter had a bit of difficulty making his way down the stone steps to the beach. Mad took his hand, providing support. His long hair and beard had gotten greyer the last few months. She joked that he was almost as silver as her. The wrinkles and laugh-lines accumulated since being together, a happy long life for a clone prominent on his face. He smiled as she fussed about him being careful not to slip.

“Taking good care of me.”

“Of course, what else would I do.”

She winked, and he chuckled.

He told Mad tonight he’d forego their usual “Spotchka under the stars” and just do “The Stars” for tonight. The alcohol was wearing heavily on his system, making for extremely tiring mornings after...even with him cutting back considerably.

In the last few months, Hunter and Mad watched a vibrant moon make its transit across the heavens. It stood out amongst the other stars. Burning a brilliant red flicker that could be easily seen even though it was millions of light years away. The bright red star reached the zenith of its orbit and total brilliance tonight per Tech’s calculations.

“There’s YOUR moon, Hunky!” Mad pointed up above.

There was a number for this moon at one point. With millions of celestial bodies orbiting the galaxy, only numbers were given to keep track of them all. That wasn't good enough for Omega though. She named it “Hunter’s Moon” rotations ago before leaving on her own journey with Echo and Crosshair.

“Shame it’s the last night we’ll see it on Pabu.” Hunter mused.

Mad sighed. “Didn’t Tech say something about it being visible somewhere else?”

“Think he mentioned another planet not far from this one...” Hunter trailed off.

“Whattsamatter Hunky?”

He looked a little guilty “Not sure I’m up to traveling much any time soon.” He also sounded tired.

“Not in any hurry. We have a sky full of stars.”

“Mhmm, that’s my Mad... always thinking ahead.”

“It’s the wanderlust. Brain never shuts off.”

“I LOVE you, Maadienne.”

Mad smiled and squeezed his hand. “I LOVE you too, Hunky.”

They both gazed up at Hunter’s Moon.

“Make a wish, Mad!” Hunter said quietly.

They were both silent for a while. Then Hunter gently rested his head against hers.

She knew he wouldn’t come out and tell her his wish, that to tell it wouldn’t come true. Mad still liked to chide Hunter and try to playfully tease it out of him. It would end in tickling, laughter, hugs, kisses...and on less tiresome nights love making. On tiresome nights they fell asleep in each other's arms on the beach.

“Okay Hunky, spill the beans.” Mad hugged Hunter tighter. He didn’t reply.

“Hunky..?”

Mad brushed Hunter’s long locks away from his face. She gazed down at him, marveling at how the bonfire illuminated his hair, tattoo, dark skin. The face of a sleeping angel. A rhyme in time back on Ord Mantell all those years ago. The younger man who decided to buy her a drink in Cyd’s Parlor. A partner that travelled with her across the galaxy, helped care for her family, whose brothers adopted them all, and a partner that never left her side.

She caressed his face lovingly, immersing herself in the scent of his skin, hair, and...

...breath...?

Hunter’s chest had stilled. An expected, but heavy weight resting against her body, a bit heavier than his usual bodily presence.

“Oh...Hunter...Hun...” Mad suddenly hitched and exhaled, tears running down her face.

She knew this day would eventually come. And as the full rotations went on, she kept wishing on a certain red star that she could have another standard day with him. Every standard day she wished to have another.

But wishes only carry you so far...and there are only so many wishes granted.

And you must accept that the universe has other plans.

To believe in having just a moment of happiness instead of none.

Mad kissed Hunter’s forehead. “Aw, Hunky...we were REAL good... Weren’t we?

The red star above Pabu twinkled in reply to Mad’s words as she hugged Hunter for the last time.

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

94 notes · View notes

queenofspades6 · 2 months

Text

Imagine Omega and the others escaped Tantiss’base, while the boys are trying to go save her 😭😭😭

134 notes · View notes

staycalmandhugaclone · 4 months

Text

Ode to Artists Pt 1

Part (1) of Ode to Artists, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Am I well past when I was supposed to finish my Bingo sheet? Yup. Am I still counting this one toward the "Bed" prompt? Also yup. I meant for this to just be a one-parter, but I just can't write those... so it'll be 2 or 3 parts of mostly (emphasis on mostly) fluff before we get into the next whump-tastic arcs I have planned. (Also, after my appointment today, the midwives say I could literally go anytime from tomorrow to 5 weeks from now, soooo if I vanish for a bit... well, you'll know why)

Warnings: This arc will mostly be fluffy stuff, but there will be references to past torture here and there. This one has some flashbacks, profanity, and loads of emotions like guilt, fear, anger, and general angst, as well some brief mention of wanting to die (not SI - with relation to ending torture), and I supposed some dependency

WC: 3,405

Rough Mando'a translation:

hut’uunla chakaaryc - coward and a rotten, low-life, (considered worst possible insult)

When we’re children and we first learn that the sky is endless, when we’re told of the countless lives beyond that stunning blue and the thousands of planets that we’ll never visit; when we’re first taught that the impossibly distant stars who’s lights danced in the darkness of night had died and been reborn long before we’d ever glimpsed them, and we discover just how small we are amidst an existence that would live on unchanged in spite of our hopes and dreams and fears, unmoved by our short lives and inevitable deaths; when we’re children and these harsh truths rob us of that innocent sense of invulnerability and infinite potential innate in the brilliance of youth, there is a wound that is dealt in the wake of that revelation regardless if the words are spoken with unapologetic honesty or gentle wonder, and those wounds may scar or they may fester, but they never fully fade.

I remembered when I learned how big the galaxy was. I didn’t feel that loss then. At the time, I’d felt inspired, enamored by the vast stretches of possibilities I’d never before considered and lightened beneath the new sense of freedom granted by those possibilities, but I felt those scars now.

Used bandages lay forgotten in small piles atop the medbay counter as my eyes stared blindly at the still pink bands encircling my wrists, fingertips just whispering over the newly knit skin. The freshly formed nerves shuddered beneath that delicate touch, unaccustomed, yet, to even gentle sensation. I hadn’t seen the damage wrought by how violently I’d thrashed against those restraints, not until after Comet had done his best to clean and sow them back together, and bacta gel had regrown most of what surely still dirtied a floor already coated with too much blood, but I could imagine it. For the scars to still shine so starkly against the unmarried flesh beside it, I didn’t doubt how near I’d come to severing tendon and exposing bone, and the simple fact that I could remember no sense of pain beyond the panic of drowning held its own morbid wonder.

It was as I stared unseeing at those scars, thoughts coming and going absent a moment’s true consideration, that I felt small. I’d never known fear could cut so deeply, that the body was capable of such terror, and yet I’d suffered beneath it for so long as the worlds around me continued in blissful ignorance. Children played as I screamed. New lovers relished the touch of another as I died. Stars were born as I begged for everything to end, and yet I now stood in the same room of the Marauder that I’d lived in for well over a year. The air still held the stale taste of too many rotations through the recyclers. The engines hummed with that same subtle rumble fading into the ambiance of the occasional beep of an alarm, and beyond the door, if I bothered to listen, I was sure I’d hear Wrecker’s boisterous voice or catch a sharp retort from Crosshair.

Even in that haze of wandering memories, my heart still leapt at the thought of him. He’d refused to let me so much as change my own bandages during the week we’d remained on the Negotiator. What arguments I’d tried to offer failed beneath the gentleness of his touch, the way his eyes hardened and his lithe body curled over mine. It didn’t feel possessive. It felt safe, and that was far too precious to refuse. Between those moments, however, I’d rarely seen him.

Only after noting his absence for several days did I learn that he kept vanishing to the training rooms, seeking anyone foolish enough or brave enough to spar and ensuring what minor injuries he sustained had been tended long before returning to my side. I wanted to talk to him about it but found myself unable to force the question past my lips, too worried that I already knew the answer to risk asking, because what could I say if he was fighting as a means of distracting himself from everything I wasn’t yet willing to speak of? If he felt driven to escape a helplessness I knew too well, a helplessness he only felt because of me? It had been something of a relief to get word of our latest assignment if only to break that routine.

With my wounds now all but healed and the lot of us en route to Alderaan, some semblance of normalcy was finally beginning to return. Friendly bickering again flowed between the brothers, free of that tension that had made my heart twist since Devaron, and no one shot away to hide the instant the medbay door opened or purposefully avoided eye contact if we were in the same room. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better. That return to normalcy, however, brought with it a quiet I wished I could appreciate, but the thoughts it granted freedom to were ones that robbed me of breath and left me staggering amidst memories I couldn’t force back.

“Doc?” My attention snapped away from those lingering scars, chest hitching in a small gasp at the suddenness with which that daze fled me. Echo stood barely a handful of steps away, brows draw lightly together above eyes full of the beginnings of worry. I hadn’t noticed the hiss of the door opening or closing, hadn’t heard whatever initial greeting he’d offered as he entered. Had he asked me something? How long had he been speaking before falling silent at the realization that I wasn’t even aware of his presence?

“Sorry, Echo; guess I got a bit lost in thought.” I said softly with a gentle smile that did little to chase the concern from his gaze. “What did you say?” He hesitated a moment, jaw tensing, and I couldn’t help but fear I’d missed something vital in whatever words he’d spoken while my mind had floated absent intent.

“Just… wondered if you’d eaten yet? Figured I’d grab you something since I was headed there anyway.” My heart sank at the offer, certain that had nothing to do with why he’d really come here, but the tentative truce between us was still too delicate to strain beneath blunt questions. I turned my attention back to the counter, using the excuse of gathering the discarded cloth to hide the threat of disappointment from my gaze.

“Probably a good idea.” I sighed despite how unappealing one of those flavorless bars sounded. “I’m finished here, anyway, so I’ll come with you.” A stranger wouldn’t have noticed the tension steal through him, the delay preceding that forced smile. A close friend wouldn’t have hesitated to address them. I noticed and said nothing, caught in the lingering uncertainty of where we stood, terrified that I might push him away again with one poorly chosen word.

“Have you reviewed the mission brief, yet?” He asked, vying for some attempt at nonchalance as we started from the medbay. I nodded, still a bit confused by it. We were making a delivery to the governing body. Given the relatively safe location of the planet, using a squad with the immaculate record Hunter and his brothers boasted made little sense. Echo let out a small chuckle at my expression, and my heart leapt at the sound.

“I think Cody sent us on this one as a bit of a break.” I didn’t fight the look of surprise that drew my attention back to him, though the darkness that followed left me turning away just as quickly. He was babying us because of me… sending us as a glorified delivery service. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful for the reprieve or enraged at how badly I needed just that: a respite from the unending horrors of this nightmare of a war.

“I don’t think he meant it as an insult.” At that, a quick huff escaped me, cheeks warming from how effortlessly he read me.

“I think he meant it as an olive branch more than anything.” I retorted, pleased to glimpse the smirk those words brought to his lips.

“Or an excuse to get Crosshair off his ship as soon as possible.” He mused, voice lowering as he leaned subtly closer to me, and I found myself biting back a string of laughter at his conspiratory tone.

I wasn’t surprised to find Wrecker in the small kitchette as we entered, a few empty wrappers already littering the table with a third already half eaten. His eyes lit up when he saw us.

“Did he tell you?!” The vibrant excitement in his voice was almost enough to make me hesitate, eyes flicking back to Echo for a moment.

“I’m going to guess not yet?” I replied, brow hitching expectantly. The arc didn’t bother even trying to explain before his brother jumped to his feet.

“They got this celebration tomorrow on Alderaan! Tech says they only do it every five years!” He purged the news in a loud, eager rush of glee that I was helpless against, lips instantly drawing up into a broad grin.

“Tomorrow? Are going to make it?” A quiet whisper of fear coiled in my chest, images of too many strange faces milling about overly pretentious floors as music danced through the air, but I refused to grant it purchase in the wake of Wrecker’s delight.

“Yup! Hunter even said we’d have the whole night to see it while the ship gets fueled up!”

“It’s outside,” Echo added softly, and I couldn’t quite meet his gaze despite how my body automatically shifted toward him, too aware of what prompted him to offer the gentle reassurance. “Up in the mountains.” Alderaan’s snowy peaks were renowned for their timeless beauty, and the knowledge that we wouldn’t be confined to some inescapable prison veiled in the guise of splendor and finery proved the perfect balm to the quickening of my heartbeat.

“We’ll have to bundle you up with a couple extra layers.” I didn’t doubt that he heard the gratitude warming my words as I finally found the strength to look at him, and the kindness in those eyes shown untainted by the distance that still haunted us.

“Pretty sure I’ll be thawing out the whole trip back regardless how many sets of blacks I put on.” He grumbled, but there was no heat to the complaint. I offered a sympathetic smile and bumped my shoulder lightly against his chest before treading further into the small room to retrieve some rations for us.

“Did Tech mention what all we might expect at this event?” I knew Wrecker would have seen through the subtleties of how Echo eased that fear from me; knew he’d likely understood the instant my gaze first turned away from him, just as I knew he understood the true reason behind my question, and I loved him for how readily he answered my unspoken plea for a distraction as he raptly described what he remembered of Tech’s earlier explanation: of the group of artists that had lived and died centuries prior, but who’s works of Alderaan’s beauty became so renowned throughout the galaxy as to alter the very fate of the planet, inspiring countless others to seek out those natural landscapes to witness that beauty for themselves. He spoke of the promise of endless venders offering unique food and drink and all manner of goods, and he drew no attention to why I sat so quietly beside him, why I failed to respond with my usual glee to his animated retelling, but he was not silent in the face of my stillness, powerful body shifting ever so subtly about mine, hand gentle in every brief touch that somehow never lasted too long, and I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but relief at his unspoken offer for a comfort that was so soft as to barely be noticeably beyond the unwavering sense of safety it granted me.

It was late. Offensively late. The medbay lay illuminated in the faint glow of a monitor I hadn’t been able to bring myself to turn off, knowing what darkness awaited me the instant I flicked that switch, what terrors lingered in the shadows vying for any excuse to strike. Crosshair had said nothing about it as he shifted atop my bed, groggily holding the blanket open with feigned impatience, but I couldn’t dismiss that flare of shame at yielding to that fear. The instant I settled into him, however, the warmth that enveloped me as he fit himself perfectly around my too tense form and let out that deep, quiet sigh of contentment robbed me of all thought beyond the feeling of his chest dancing with unhurried breaths against my back, the strength of his arms holding me with a covetous need, and I’d found myself drifting into a far kinder sleep that I had any right to hope for.

I loathed the unknown disturbance drawing me from that gentle slumber, jaw tensing beneath an attempt at denial that I might simply ignore whatever it was and slip back into that blessed nothingness. Crosshair lay perfectly limp against me, face tucked into my hair with that precious stillness of sleep. Resigned to a late-night visit to the privy, I reluctantly tried to slip away from him, laughter threatening to bubble past pursed lips at the tiny groan that escaped him as his arms tightened petulantly around me, but he showed no signs of waking as I finally managed to detangle myself from his embrace.

Footsteps as near to silent as I could manage, I tread carefully down the hall, tiptoeing past the bunkroom, though only Wrecker and Echo lay within, both far too lost to their own blissful sleep to note my movements. It wasn’t until I’d nearly reached the privy door that something on the very edge of perception left my blood running cold. I couldn’t say what it was, not yet, but my body seemed drawn toward it, wide eyes locked on the fore of the ship as my legs carried me forward despite the sudden urge to flee.

Even after some recognition began to note the sound of broken gasps amidst free-flowing water, I couldn’t bring myself to stop. There was a haunted sense of familiarity in the way I watched myself move through the ship; in the automated motions I didn’t have the presence of mind to even try to stop.

“…severe forms of torture.” There was a weight to that normally clinical voice; a dread that even he couldn’t fully suppress.

“Tech.” Hunter’s hushed voice barely registered as he turned sharply to face me, but I couldn’t focus on him. I hadn’t even noticed myself climb down the ladder into the cockpit.

“Who ordered the hit?!” I don’t remember when that man’s voice had filled with such anger.

“It’s rare for anyone to endure longer than a couple minutes… what she went through”

“Tech!” Hunter barked, finally ripping his brother’s attention from the audio clip. I didn’t see the look in his eyes as he followed Hunter’s gaze toward me.

“Just tell me who planted the kriffing bomb!”

“I don’t know!” It didn’t sound like my voice. It was enraged and terrified and ruined by hours of screaming. Hunter’s hand flared toward Tech, but he sat frozen – caught – as I approached on strides faltering beneath the tremble just beginning to steal through me.

“That’s krayt spit, and you kriffing know it! Who ordered the hit?!” Part of me wanted to be impressed at how clear the recording was, mind eager to detach from the rush of liquid that followed my every response, the way my lungs panicked and burned with the afterimage of that agony.

“Just kill me, you hut’uunla chakaaryc!” I’d heard Warthog say that once… even Wolffe had been taken aback, and only Sinker would tell me what it meant when I’d asked. That man surely had no idea what I’d called him, but the violent slap that tore from the speakers followed by the seemingly endless flood of water and desperate coughs left no uncertainty that he’d fathomed a guess.

“…Doc.” My hand was reaching out, senses dulled to all but the echoes of my nightmares screaming with such haunting clarity from the speakers, deaf to Hunter’s quiet call.

“Who was behind the attack?!”

“I don’t know!!” That voice was sobbing and screaming and so utterly broken.

My fingertips barely brushed the console before the recording stopped, but I could still hear it… the gush of water… I could feel it’s chill tear the warmth from my flesh; felt it flooding my mouth and nose… and I felt that undeniable, visceral fear of death creeping through me.

Hunter shifted hesitantly toward me, but I merely shook my head. The movement was so slight, I barely felt it, but it instantly left him frozen, shoulders sinking beneath emotions I was still far too raw to try to name.

Without a word, I stepped away from them, away from whatever apologies or questions or murmured reassurances might be festering atop their tongues, my eyes still staring blindly at the endless buttons and switches decorating the console, and when I turned away, when I began to leave in the same silence in which I’d arrived, neither could bring themselves to try calling out again.

Any other night, I would have cringed at the thought of waking him. I would have strained myself to slip back into his embrace as carefully as possible, breath held in my chest until I was sure my intrusion hadn’t robbed him of that empty sleep, but I could spare little thought toward such things. He was warm. And he was safe. And I didn’t bother to even slide beneath the blanket before pressing myself against him.

Crosshair’s torso swelled with a sharp inhale, brows drawing together with some mixture of annoyance and confusion, but then he went still. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, body curling into his as though I might hide from the memories still raging through my mind. He studied me for mere seconds before shifting in careful, unhurried movements, one arm slipping beneath me to wrap around my shoulders while he brought his other hand up to just whisper against my cheek, the unspoken question clear in that tender gesture.

Again, I felt my head give the slightest shake, unable to offer anything more. His thumb trailed the ridge of my cheekbone, touch featherlight, before letting his hand brush gently through my hair to rest against the back of my neck, holding me with just enough force for me to feel his strength, and a shuttered exhale escaped me that left us both clinging just that much harder to each other.

He didn’t speak throughout the night, but the occasional dance of his fingers or touch of his lips in something too gentle to be called a kiss reassured me that he was still awake, still holding me until that tension began to slip away. I don’t know how long we laid there, letting the minutes and hours pass in that perfect quiet, but when I finally heard the steady thrum of his heartbeat over those horrid screams, I wanted to sob. I wanted to shout beneath the disdain I felt toward myself and the apologies I didn’t have the strength to voice. I wanted to tell him that he could leave; that I wouldn’t blame him for needing to separate himself from the mess I’d become, but I couldn’t stop my grasp from tightening around his shirt at the very thought, and when he responded without hesitation, when his arms nearly crushed me against him, I abandoned even the memory of fear that he’d want me to grant him that escape.

In the morning, I’d thank him. In the morning, I’d try to offer some manner of an explanation that he was long past due, but for what few hours still remained in that façade of night that meant nothing in the emptiness of space, I let myself give in to the simple need for his presence and the quiet it granted me. I let myself be weak that I might find solace in his strength, and I let myself love him with every atom of my being for the selflessness of his comfort.

Next Chapter

Click here or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist!

Click here for my Masterlist.

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @eclec-tech @jennrosefx @echos-girlfriend @starqueensthings @manofworm @merkitty49 @idoubleswearimawriter @abigfanofstarwars @chopper-base @daftdarling222 @pb-jellybeans @bacta-the-future @rosechi @legalpadawan @drummergirl1701 @6oceansofmoons @dangraccoon @ji5hine @dathomiri-mudpuppy @mooncommlink @isthereanechoinhere96 @inneedoffanfics @totally-not-your-babe @delialeigh @blondie-bluue @ray-rook @iabrokengirl @arcsimper5 @rndmpeep @amorfista @wanderneverlost @flawsandgoodintent @passionofthesith @followthepurrgil @roam-rs @foodmoneyandcats @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @9902sgirl @captainrex89 @waytoooldforthis78 @msmeredithrose @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @anythingandeveythingstarwars @littlefeatherr @thegreatpipster

75 notes · View notes

arctrooper69 · 1 year

Text

Feels Like Durasteel

The former ARC trooper and his Jedi General grieve together.

Warnings: Season 2 finale spoilers. Discussion of death and dying. Mostly hurt with a teeny bit of comfort.

--------------------------------------------------

She couldn't breathe. Her knees hit the durasteel floor with a thud. This couldn't be happening.

No. I refuse. Not again.

The all too familiar agony of loss had lain in ambush, readying itself for her journey to consciousness - then it attacked without mercy.

"Where's Tech!?"

"....General"

It grasped at her as she ran from the room, ripping and tearing into her with it's heavy, piercing claws. It's poison burned through her veins as she stumbled up the ramp into the Marauder.

"When have we ever followed orders."

Her mind spun faster and faster, replaying that moment over and over again until it reached such a speed that she couldn't keep up but it continued regardless. It filled her ears, blurred her vision, and constricted her lungs.

I'm a Jedi. I'm a kriffing Jedi! I could've saved him. I could've done something. Anything. Why didn't I?

The weight on her chest was suffocating. She could no longer feel the clench of her teeth nor the cold bite of durasteel beneath her knees.

"General!?"

Footsteps. Muffled sounds of metal against metal; a cold hand providing no relief to burning skin.

She recognized Echo, though he was as hazy as everything else that was slowly closing in around her.

"Look at me! Breathe."

I can't.

I don't want to.

It's too heavy and I don't have the strength.

Everything she'd been through. Everything she'd lost. Everyone she'd lost. It was all too much.

"Come on, General! Breathe with me."

***

A spider spun a beautiful web across a shelf of datapads. She didn't mean to kill it, but it startled her and she crushed it. Her first introduction to death and one of her first lessons as a youngling.

There is no death, only the Force.

Accept it as a natural part of life and let go.

Mourn them do not. Miss them do not.

For the fear of loss is a path to the Dark Side.

Maybe that's why she felt this way. Maybe she wasn't Jedi enough. Maybe it was somehow her fault. Maybe she could've done more. Made different choices. Chosen different words. Maybe she wasn't the leader they made her out to be.

Maybe she was cursed.

Perhaps the Force could tell that she formed attachments too easily - that she loved too deeply, and expressed herself too passionately.

Maybe that was why they were all dead. Because of her.

Maybe she deserved the horror that was to be left alone again. That was why she couldn't breathe. She was alone.

***

"That's it. There you go. Breathe."

She kept her eyes down, not wanting to meet his pitying gaze.

They sat in silence, the only sounds drifted faintly in from the city outside.

She felt her head tip and almost unconsciously lean against the hard plastoid of his shoulder. Neither of them said a word.

"I..." She spoke, voice barely a whisper. She couldn't make the words come. But he knew what she meant.

"I know...."

There were no tears, there hadn't been yet and there probably weren't going to be for awhile. They both knew how this played out - each in their own ways with the common ground of an all consuming numbness.

It was a feeling that made it easier to keep going until one day you couldn't take it anymore. But that day wasn't today. It never was.

It was a process that she had down pact - allowing just a sliver of grief to slip out, tricking her brain into locking away everything else.

"I miss him too."

***

Echo. Fives. Tup. Hardcase. Just a few names - barely a shadow of the sea of troopers she called friend.

Vivian. Rylah. Sari. Pol. Ben. Her creche-mates. Friends. Casualties of war. Brothers and sisters that she grew up with - fought with, ate with, and trained with.

None of them had seen the end of the war.

The Jedi died as battlefield heroes - faces and names to be memorialized forever in stone. The clones died for the sake of a Republic that only saw them as faceless numbers.

The clones were born to die. Why wasn't she? Things would be a lot easier then.

But they were all gone, leaving her alone again in galaxy too big to understand.

***

"It's too much, Echo..." She could barely hear her own voice.

He didn't answer. He didn't have an answer.

Pick up the pieces, dust yourself off. Move on. That's what he'd always told himself. That's what he'd tell himself this time too. Tech would want them to move on, right? To give meaning to his sacrifice?

He probably could - he'd been trained to do so since he popped out of the tube. But no matter the training, he was, at the end of the day, still human.

Was it the same for his General?

Most likely.

Grief had a way of disregarding the chain of command.

***

She didn't know if she would consider Echo a loss. He had come back to her, but the pain she'd felt was real. He was the first real casualty of war that she could name.

Hardcase was the first clone she'd considered her friend. He was kind. He was funny. He had tricked her into luring his Captain into a paint trap. It caught Kix instead and the medbay had never seen so much color - in both paint and language.

On Umbara, his force signature went out with a bang. Loud and explosive, just like him. He wouldn't have had it any other way.

Tup was young. Fresh-faced. He'd barely worn out the shine on his armor. He didn't deserve the way he went out - an unfortunate victim of a political ploy activated too soon. His force signature had always reminded her of the quiet calm before a storm.

She never got to say goodbye to Fives. The strong, handsome ARC trooper went out doing his duty. He died doing what he thought was right. He died trying to save his brothers. His force signature was full of light. Sometimes it flashed, pulsing like the strobe lights of a club. Sometimes it shone strong and bright with a fierce determination.

And then there was Tech...

***

The former ARC trooper and his General sat silently on the cold metal floor of the Marauder - each one slowly drowning beneath the weight of the galaxy.

"Did you know," she began quietly, "that everyone has their very own force signature?"

Echo was silent. He turned to look at her, blinking in a daze as though her voice had dragged him from the depths of an impossible whirlpool. Hearing her voice made it easier to breathe. It kept his head above the water - just barely, but that was all it took to keep from drowning.

The General's lips twitched in a fleeting, sad smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, oblivious to his silent plea.

Please keep talking. I can't take the silence. I don't want to be alone.

"Even clones," she continued. "You all feel so different."

Echo leaned his head against the wall. "Oh yeah?"

She was silent and for a moment, Echo feared that she hadn't heard him. Then she spoke again.

"Tech's force signature felt a bit like durasteel."

Oh.

"What do you mean?" he shifted so that his shoulder rested against her own.

"Always strong, no matter the situation it's put in. Cold, straight edged. Sometimes sharp."

She took a shakey breath and wiped away tears she hadn't even realized she'd been crying. "But durasteel can be worked with. It's reliable. It's adaptable. With time and warmth, it can be shaped into almost any tool or mechanical part. It holds heat well, making the most bitter cold into someplace comforting. It's just...always there. Without it..."

She stuttered to a stop, afraid that if she kept going, she'd start something that she had no power to stop.

Echo felt her shaking, curling into his chest. He didn't know if she'd meant to or not but it didn't matter to him. He shifted, allowing his flesh arm to rest, wrapping around her shoulders.

She took a breath, "Without it....our ship would be in pieces. It wouldn't fly." Her voice cracked. "It wouldn't be a ship at all."

Echo was silent, once again he didn't know what to say. She was right. It did feel like that. It did feel like their squad - their family - had lost too much to continue.

"I know..." He finally said with a gravelly whisper. "I know. I won't say that we'll be ok because I don't think we will be okay for awhile." He took a breath. "But we have eachother. We have the rest of our family. We have our mission." He paused, squeezing her shoulders, "and we have an Empire to make aware that there's gonna be Hell to pay."

I'm not sure if I like this one or not... I haven't written in third person for awhile... Does third person count as x reader if there's no name mentioned? And I'm not trying to beg for attention or anything, but if you liked this, can you leave a comment please? I feel like I'm kinda losing my touch...

--------------------------------------------------

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @jambolska-grozdova @flyingkangaroo @melymigo @rain-on-kamino @jiabeewrites @my-own-oracle @dragonrider9905 @queenofspades6 @ordinarylokix @jupitersaturnapollo @queencousland101 @vampirerouge @southernbaguette @staycalmandhugaclone @dalu-grantkylo @dangraccoon @aconstructofamind @blueink-bluesoul @pb-jellybeans

If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

217 notes · View notes

hesthermay · 4 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (𝐏𝐓 𝟏)

PAIRING: sergeant hunter x fem!oc reader

SUMMARY: the assignment of miri rocksled to clone force 99 brought an even higher success rate than the two groups presented on their own; in the times of the clone wars a well working and formidable team was necessary for the republic, but little did it know that the decision would become the biggest thorn in the empires side. master rocksled had never been like other jedi, and the bad batch had never been like other clones, and as they navigate the end of everything they had known and the beginning of something dark those traits are put to the test. rules no longer exist, lines are blurred, and forbidden waters are tread as the bad batch fight the great fight for everything they deserve.

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

RATINGS + WARNINGS: general audiences, mature themes, angst. female oc, use of she/her, mentions of death and order 66. eventual series. follows the bad batch timeline.

NOTES: bada bing bada boom another one?! what?! im just fuckin good like that (im really not this has taken me a bit but im done and now im ready for you all to see it)

STAR WARS MASTERLIST THE GREAT FIGHT MASTERLIST

The scene that Clone Force 99 and their General walked into was familiar to them at this point.

Chaos, in its entirety, had consumed Kaller as Republic forces fought off Separatist battle droids coming from every direction. The ground, covered with snow, was black with ash from the repeated firing of weapons; this battle had been long, and it was not over yet.

Depa Billaba had requested backup, and though these were not the fighters she had wanted, they were all she was going to get. The Republic was stretched thin, it had seemed they had reached the climax of the Clone Wars and though it was only an inkling, it felt as if something was just over the hill.

“Master Rocksled!” Someone called from the treeline. The young Caleb Dunne, sent to retrieve said backup, watched in awe as the stories he had heard came true right in front of him.

Miri Rocksled was not like other Jedi, and in very fitting fashion, her troopers were not like other clones. Master Billaba had told him that was why she was assigned to them, and together they were the odd ones out of the GAR.

Caleb’s words had been lost in the noise, but eventually the last droid had been smashed and all attention was on him. “Master Rocksled,” he repeated, breathing slightly heavy.

“Commander Dunne, it looks like we’re your reinforcements,” she replied, grinning slightly as she walked closer towards him, the clones following suit. “What’s it looking like down there?”

After a plan was devised, the padawan was sent back to his master with the promise that they were right behind him. There was doubt, and a lot of it, upon his return. It did not look promising, him showing up empty handed with talks of five clones and one Jedi, but he asked for trust anyways. And it was not in vain, as the giant boulder that had caught the attention of the droids came crashing into view, making for a grand entrance.

Clone Force 99 made quick work of things with detonators, blasters, their very skilled sniper, brute force, strategic maneuvers, and one orange bladed lightsaber.

“I don’t believe it,” Captain Grey started, lowering the binocs as he watched. “That’s Clone Force 99.”

The two Jedi turn their heads to glance at him, and then one another. “And that’s Miri Rocksled,” Caleb whispered to his master, eyes blown wide.

……..

“Master Billaba,” Miri greeted, sheathing her lightsaber and clipping it to her waist. For a split second she gave thought to the second saber she was set to receive soon and the excitement to have an addition to her signature handle.

“If you’re done hiding down there, I suggest you launch a counterattack,” Hunter interjected, helmet under his arm. “Another droid battalion’s approaching.”

Grey stepped forward, on attack mode in the presence of clones who regarded the protocol he was held to as merely a suggestion. It was even evident in the way they had just addressed a Jedi General, someone who outranked them all as an army. “The General is the one who gives the orders around here.”

Billaba held out her hand, an effort to ease the clone's frustrations as they were not needed, nor helpful.“He’s right, Captain. This is our chance,” she nodded her head slightly, sure of her words. “Launch the counterattack.”

With that, the men were sent on their way and Master and Padawan came out into the open. “There you are little Jedi,” Wrecker stated, pushing his way to the front. “You missed all the fun.”

Caleb, who pulled his hood off, grinned. “Watching your team in action was all the fun.” Miri was reminded of being a padawan and being in awe of some of the Masters when she watched them spar, or went on assignments with them.

Billaba stepped forward, placing a hand on the young boy's shoulder. “Care to introduce your new friends, Caleb?”

“Yes, Master. This is Wrecker,” he gestured to each one as he named them off. “Hunter, Echo, Tech, and Crosshair.” He turned back to her when there was only one left. “And, you know Master Rocksled, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” she affirmed with a slight smile before turning her head back to the rest. “While I’m not sure ‘fun’ is the sentiment I would express, I agree with my Padawan. Your exploits were quite impressive. The Council was right when we assigned you to them,” she directed at Miri, who only shrugged one shoulder.

“Exploits?” Wrecker questioned, confusion written all over him as he looked around.

Behind him, Crosshair walked by with his rifle propped on his shoulder. “Don’t overthink it, Wrecker,” he commented, as snide as ever. Crosshair had been an acquired taste, but his attitude was tolerable with some time.

“Thank you, General,” Echo stepped up, almost as straightlaced as ever. As a reg, Echo expressed different traits than that of the experimental unit when it came to working with others, but that was not a testament to his place within the Batch. Echo had found a home in Clone Force 99, one that he had not thought he would get a chance at after the Citadel.

Master Billaba’s inquisitive eyes were once again on her fellow Jedi. “Would you care to explain where my actual reinforcement are, Master Rocksled?”

Miri sighed ever so slightly, for her answer to that question was not a good one, nor a helpful one. “Rerouted to the capital. I’m afraid we’re all you’re getting, my friend,” she replied lowly.

“Ha! We’re all you need,” Wrecker boasted, hands on his hips. And for almost the first time since this interaction had started, Tech looked up from his device.

“Actually,” he held up a finger, a signature pose for the brainiac of the group. “If my intel is correct, the General will not need any of us. The Clone War may soon be over.”

Intrigue trickled down from the crown of Miri’s head at his words. Her feeling, the one that had been nagging and nagging, that something was to come entered the forefront of her mind. She did not hear the responses to Tech’s statement, but she did hear him begin once again, more information to unload. “I am referring to the encrypted comm chatter. Clone intelligence is reporting that Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi has found and engaged General Grievous on Utapau.”

“No way,” Miri whispered. This had been something her, Obi-Wan, and Anakin had been trying to chase for ages now, and it would seem one of her friends had finally reached their goal. General Grievous was the answer to ending the droid army that upheld the Separatist’s defenses.

“If he captures or kills Grievous, the Separatist command structure will collapse,” Echo affirmed her thoughts.

“And most likely the droid armies along with them.”

“A fascinating theory,” Master Billaba cut in, “yet unfortunately not something we can control from here. I suggest we focus on the task at hand.”

Hunter glanced at Miri before looking back at Billaba. With a shrug of his shoulders, he stepped forward. “Any orders? Or shall we do what we do?” Helmets were placed on heads, and Wrecker cheered, boisterous voice filling the space around them.

“Let’s blow something up. Yeah!”

Caleb had watched them this entire time with a smile on his face, and it made Miri feel giddy. She always got a kick out of impressing the younglings and padawans. “Well, Caleb, shall we let them do what they do?” Master Billaba questioned, as if she had seen the same thing. It was nice, to see her Padawan smile in these trying times he was forced to grow up in; a welcome change when circumstances permitted.

“Only if I can go with them,” he countered eagerly, looking up at his mentor.

She glanced over at Miri, who only nodded before the woman grinned. “Very well,” she conceded.

“Hey, kid, you ready for this? We move fast,” Hunter emphasized, deep voice coming out gravelly through the modulator.

“Good,” Caleb shot back with a quirked brow, “that’s the only way I know.” He earned a laugh from Wrecker before they started to dart off, but Miri remained where she was. It was Hunter who shot her a look over his shoulder, a silent question.

“I’m going to speak with Master Billaba for a second,” Miri answered, playing off the heaviness on her shoulders. “Go on, Sergeant. I’ll catch up,” she smiled, hoping it would be enough to send him off. She was his general, and technically she had given him an order that he could not go against, but things were different in the Batch.

Things were different between Miri and Hunter.

As inappropriate and forbidden as it was, the pair had found themselves harboring something of a romance. It was not spoken of, it couldn’t be spoken of; but it did not need to be. Miri knew she was special to Hunter, and he knew he was special to her. It was as simple as that, for the Jedi Order would only let it be so.

It had worked, however she knew she would be questioned later. The pause before he nodded told her he had picked up on whatever it was she was trying to keep at bay, and even though he ran off after one final salute she still felt his presence as she turned to her colleague.

“What is it, Master Rocksled?” Billaba questioned, eyes still trained on her padawan in the distance.

“Do—” she started, but had to rethink her wording once again. “Do you feel like something is about to happen?” She asked, sincerity written on her face because she was desperate to know why she had grown heavier by the minute. Billaba’s focus had now moved to her, squinted eyes watching the young woman as her question hung in the air. “Like…like we're at the top of the hill, but what’s on the other side isn’t what we’ve been expecting?”

“Miri…” She whispered, shaking her head ever so slightly as her mind registered and her thoughts raced. She never got to continue, however, as behind her Captain Grey received a message through the commlink in his helmet. As Miri’s eyes watched him turn away from them, she grew ominously cold. Dread poured over her body, and in her peripheral she saw Master Billaba cautiously look over her shoulder, as a hologram activated.

A cloaked figure, hunched over with a voice almost familiar to them, spoke directly to the clones. “Execute Order 66.”

Captain Grey did not respond verbally, but he did comply by putting the holo device back on his belt and staring at the Generals before him for a moment longer, before drawing his weapon and firing two shots off, both aimed at their heads. Lightsabers were drawn as the pair dodged the blaster fire, but more troopers were closing in.

Depa Billaba and Miri Rocksled found the same weapons their soldiers used against their enemies aimed at them instead. In the back of her mind, Miri knew this was it. The crest of the hill they’d been climbing for three years, the cause of the sick and twisted feeling in her stomach, and the ultimate demise of the Jedi Order as a whole.

In the distance, it would seem that the same feeling had reached Caleb; the dread had stretched through the air and clouded around him through the Force, and he slowed his pace until he was still. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he heard the sounds of saber blades deflecting blaster shots, and he slowly turned.

Troopers, his troopers, drawing in on the two Masters, shots aimed to kill. His ears began to ring and he sprinted toward them, drawing his own saber. “Master!” He shouted, a desperation in his voice he knew would raise brows, but he didn’t care. Horror filled his body Billaba and Rocksled were separated, and the distance between the troopers and the Jedi was growing smaller and smaller. He stopped in his tracks as his master risked a look at him.

“You must run!” She screamed, hand held out in a desperation she knew would be frowned upon, but she didn’t care. As his feet remained glued to the ground, her eyes remained on him. With her back exposed, a shot landed on her shoulder that rendered her arm almost useless as she tried to defend herself. “Run, Caleb!” She cried out, words echoing as her padawan turned and followed her orders.

Miri had been pushed far enough away that the Bad Batch couldn't see her when they turned and watched the kid run towards the brutal scene, but she was close enough to still see the fall of Jedi Master Depa Billaba, and every emotion that she had been warned about filled her to the brim. Fear, horror, anger, grief, they washed over her until her limbs felt like they were made of stone. Sweat covered her face despite the snowy climate of Kaller, and she felt every burn from a grazed blaster shot, every bruise from trying to fight them off, and when the first successful shot landed on her left thigh, she fell to the scarlett stained snow. As they drew in closer, like predator hunting prey, one hand reached out on instinct. The Force, a power not to be trifled with yet one she was not even sure one would come to her, pushed them back but did little to stop them.

One opportunity, that she was lucky enough to have given herself, to escape. To where, she did not know. With whom, well, she knew it would be nobody. She was on her own, and she deliberately pushed the existence of Clone Force 99 out of her mind. She could not afford to think of them participating in this betrayal, could not afford to feel the debilitating heartbreak of her boys turning on her. Instead, she grunted as she struggled to rise from the ground, the cold seeping through the gaps between the bits of armor she wore as she held a hand out towards where her friend lay. Depa’s lightsaber flew to her and smacked against her palm, and she grasped it with a tight fist as she retreated. Pain radiated from the wound on her leg, and her skin stung as it rubbed against the fabric of her clothes, but she used it to push her forward, to fuel her escape as she attempted to form a plan in her hazy mind.

The treeline was the obvious choice, more things to hide behind, more things to block their view as they aimed at her. She skirted through the woods, not caring for the prints she left behind; she was too weak to hide in the treetops to avoid the snow so she did the best she could to make up for the trail leading them right to her. Trickery.

They would find her, and they would shoot at her, and to them they would succeed. Miri Rocksled would fall at the hands of the Cone Army, and it would be logged somewhere for someone to keep track of.

But this would not be so, as the drop off before her filled in the gaps of her plan. She would need to pull out some theatrics, rather unconventional for a Jedi but she never claimed to follow the grain, and perhaps she could pull off this scheme.

And so, when the shots started firing in her direction once again, she did not dodge them. She ran towards the drop off, feeling the heat from the blaster fire as it got closer and closer, and once the edge was in sight she drew Depa’s saber, turning as if she was cornered and this was her last chance to fight. Convincing, as the troopers took her bait and opened fire directly on her, and she only put up as much of a fight as she needed before the real test began. Her focus drifted from the men before her, and the outside noise drowned itself out. The Force, as present as ever, was all around. It was one with her, and it was always with her.

Her heart slowed in her chest, and it seemed as if things moved in slow motion as she let Captain Grey shoot her in the abdomen, the pain harsh but dulled with the rest of her senses as she used the Force to put her body in a state of comatose. She dropped the lightsaber, using the momentum from the shot to send herself over the edge. She let herself plummet towards the snowy abyss below, slowing herself slightly. When her body collided with the ground, clouds of powdery snow erupted around her, almost shrouding her as the clones looked over the edge.

Her eyes weren’t quite shut, lashes touching as she lay with her head rolled to the side, arms splayed out. Her heart was barely beating, her body mimicking all signs of death in the very name of preservation. In her mind, she thought of her own clones as the ones above confirmed that they had taken out both Jedi Generals. They scooped up the lightsaber before retreating, the presumed dead woman left to freeze on Kaller only a small blip in their minds.

Memories of her squad replayed in her mind as time passed, the coast long since clear as she remained stuck in the icy hold of the world around her. Memories of Hunter, of how beautiful he really was to her, how much he wanted to protect her.

If you don’t move, you’ll die.

His voice, just a whisper of him, echoed in her ears when all noises had been blocked out by the ringing silence.

You are going to freeze. You are bleeding out.

Wake up, Miri. Wake up.

It was with the last snap of his words that all her senses rushed back to her at once, jolting her from her stupor. She gasped, eyes wide as her body worked to resume its normal functions after such a pause. Pain seeped in as much as the cold, and she reminded herself that she was fighting the great fight; she did not have time to dwell on such things. Escape was imperative, and time was dwindling. She had been trained for this, her whole life had been learning how to survive against all odds with the gift she had been given, and this was not going to stop her.

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my content as your own.

44 notes · View notes

oceansssblue · 11 days

Note

Hello! I hope you’re doing well! Can I request a fic where Omega gets injured and separated from the Batch for a few days, and the reader (female) takes care of her until they can find her brothers? One night stormtroopers/imperials come in to try and take her, but reader is a BAMF (maybe an ex-battlefield medic? She has access to blasters, knives, smoke grenades, etc. to make another part of this more believable) and is able to fight them off pretty easily. The problem is actually when the Batch shows up, and reader thinks they’re the enemy and the Batch thinks she’s holding Omega hostage or something. And thus, reader vs. the bad batch begins! No one kills each other because Omega comes down and clears everything up upon her hearing her brothers. It just took her a while to come over because, you know, injury.

Also I think it’d be fun if the reader did manage to pin Hunter, even if it’s only for a second and then she would likely get pinned back because . . . It’s the bad batch.

Sure thing love, I'm down!

Xx,

Sky.

"NOT YOUR ENEMY"

HUNTER/F READER 📩💖(💔)

WARNINGS: blood&wound, stitches, light mention of atempted assault to omega (nothing happens further than words), reader being a badass and killing some storm-troopers, fire/explosions, reader being shot, some teasing/sexual tension with Hunter... A hint of competency kink? It's mostly action/fluff!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You were just on your way back home after collecting your credits when your eyes capture the shine of a blade with the reflection of the moonlight. You've been trained to focus on such things; possible weapons, always being aware of your surroudings. If you're distracted, your dead. You weren't always; but it comes as natural as breathing to you, now.

You're not in the mood for a fight, though; so once you realise you're not the one in danger, you decide to pass this one out. If you go looking for a fight, it will find you. You're still tired of your last hunt; you're not feeling the thrill of a new chase just yet. That's until you hear a voice; way too innocent and young to be stuck in such a situation without proper defence.

Your steps backtrack silently and your eyes quickly scan the alley. It's a human girl; blonde, petite, and no older than fourteen. There are three males closing up on her; two humans, one twi'lek. You see the girl trying to get pass them, a nervous anxious smile on her face. You make your resolve right then and there.

You've got to be careful. You can't save everyone.

You move so quietly towards them they don't even realise you're right at their back until you voice up your request with your blaster pointing straight at them.

"Let's keep going on with our peacefull night walk, boys".

It's serious, firm, feigning boredom. Inside, you're as coiled as a snake, ready to strike.

Ready. Always ready. Don't trust anyone. An innocent looking enemy might be your death if you don't take him seriously, if you don't think he's a danger. If you grow complacent.

They glance at each other, evaluating their chances against you. Then down at the girl; their price if they won, or the reason of their downfall if they decide to engage you and lose. One of the humans shrugs lazily, making a head gesture towards the other two. They slowly follow him out of the alley.

"All yours" the last one snorts when he passes by you.

If someone backs down, let them go.

You swallow your furious retort and take hold of the girls wrist, tugging her in the other opening of the alley, opposite direction to them. You don't trust them not to follow you, try to catch you by surprise, so you don't stop until you're at the other side of town, walking towards the outskirts in the direction of your small house. You're still vigilant all the way.

"You alright, blondie?" You ask, glancing at her and scanning her body cautiously. "You got yourself a wound there, shirt's soaking up blood".

The girl looks down at herself and nods guiltily.

"Yeah, I, uh... Had some complications" she ends up saying, quietly, before her face quickly lits up. "Thanks for helping me, though! I appreciate it".

You nod and that's that.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

She nibbles with her lower lip anxiously.

"Uh, yeah, but... I lost my coms in a fight, so I have no way of contacting my brothers. Can I... Stay with you for a bit til I find them? I'm sure they'll catch up to me in no time".

You glance at her and sigh quietly. You don't really want to get involved, but you have too much of a conscience to leave her to fetch for herself. She's just a kid, and you're a military medic. Well, were.

"Alright. But if you annoy me I'm pushing you out".

The kid grins. She looks even younger with the excitement and relief in her face.

"You remind me of one of my brothers. Grumpy" she adds, good-heartedly.

You huff.

"Not grumpy. Direct. Concise" you correct her. "It's different".

She chuckles quietly.

"Grumpy" she tells you again.

You roll your eyes. You're used to taking care of men; you haven't have much contact with kids before.

"You're not doing a good job of not annoying me, blondie".

She smiles and makes the universal gesture of zipping her mouth shut.

"I'm Omega, by the way" she tells you after a few seconds in silence.

You nod and glance at her again. You should really check that wound when you're back at home. It's bleeding quite a bit, even if you don't think it's deep enough to worry. You're sure you have enough meds at home to take care of it. Omega doesn't seem to be in pain either.

She stares at you while you walk, leading the way to your safe place; still expecting an answer. You glare at her before focusing back on your way home. This is going to end up being either surprisingly good or exasperate you to no end.

You relent.

"Nickname's Blade".

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Turns out Omega is pretty good company; which is quite a relief considering she's more injured than what you had originally thought and his brothers are no where to be seen after three whole days of her invasion of your privacy and home. You make sure to disinfect her wound and stitch it back together; you don't have strong opioids on stock, but she holds on surprisingly well, clenching her teeth and shutting her eyes, breathing through the pain. It makes your perspective of her change; she's not just any kid if she can push herself through that without barely making a noise. She's brave.

You cover the wound in bacta and dress it carefully; and make sure to change them to new ones twice a day. At the third night you inspect the closed wound carefully, the aspect of the skin and wether the stitches are still in good place; it seems to be progressing well. You still force her to bed rest; your new sleeping place your backpack layed on the wooden floor beside her. She feels guilty about it, and it shows; you only aknowledge it with a quiet hum. You're not going to deny you'd like your bed back; but you've slept in much worse conditions before.

I know it's difficult to fall asleep. Just try to tune it out. Think on other things.

On that third night, when you turn the lights out, Omega cautiously asks you about the origin of your nickname. You tell her your story. How you got your degree in Medicine in Coruscant's University; how you mastered in Galactic Bioscience when the war hit it's peak. How you started your first working years as a doctor in a clinic while you constantly heard about the battalions of clones being shipped elsewhere; defending all of you while you stayed with your simple Coruscanti life. How that hadn't set well inside of you; how you struggled with guiltiness and empathy every single day until you took the decision to enlist in the volunteers for the GAR. You tell her that switching to military medic had been a struggle at first; but the gratification was unmessurable. You were really needed there; you really did a change saving all those brave troopers lifes. You grew to respect them and admire those men like you had never admired someone before.

Unfortunately, with being a woman in military service, and a volunteer at that, very few troopers thought it meant you weren't able to defend yourself. To fight. When one cocky, snarky trooper had insinuated that publicly in the middle of the comedor, you had done what you believed was your right and justice by shutting his mouth; snarling back a warning while using your knife to nail down the sleeve of his upper blacks to the dinning table, blade sliding just a few inches away from his skin.

Omega's eyes are wide open while she listens to the anecdote. Yeah, it had made an impact among the clone lines as well.

"Okay, you're giving me Hunter vibes with the knife things now" she giggles in the darkness of your bedroom.

You arch an eyebrow, humming under your breath uncomitedly.

"What, he a soldier too?"

Omega is quick –too quick– to correct you.

"No, no. Mercenaries".

You'd give her the sceptical side eye if you had her in front of you. You let your voice carry your suspicion instead.

"Running around with a kid like you?"

The girl stumbles to answer. It's obvious there's more to the story there, but you believe she is trying to protect her siblings, so you let it be.

"Hey, I can defend myself!" She argues with a small huff, voice turning sheepish right after the outburst, considering your actual situation. "Well, on most ocasions. Life works in unexpected ways sometimes".

You can't help the snort that comes with her words.

"You bet" you answer sarcastically. You sigh tiredly and close your eyes again. "Good night, Omega".

You hear her reacomodating softly against the sheets.

"Night, Blade".

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You've always been a light sleeper. As soon as the alarm rings, you're jumping out of your sleeping bag and rushing to get your armour on –now stripped of all Republic marks– and backpack on your shoulders; already prepared with the basics in case you came across an emergency like this. You take a quick glance at the datapad you have conected to the cams you've got set up on the surroundings of your cabin; cursing under your breath.

"Omega" you call her sharply, shaking her awake without an inch of sympathy. "Get up and ready to go. Don't make me repeat myself".

The girl blinks sleepily, but she reads the urgency in your voice. She understands this is no joke; so she quickly jumps into action too, abandoning the comfort and warmth of the bed and quickly throwing her clothes on too, electrical bow clutched in her hands. She stares at you wide eyed.

"What's going on?" She whispers, nervously.

You ruffle through your closet, jaw clenched and set on the task of preparing yourself for the worst. One blaster gets inmediately strapped at each outer thigh; your belt of knifes looping around your waist. One vibroblade goes into the safe-pocket of your right vambrace; your second one on your left leg. You stuff your bag with a few extra surprises and tie up your hair. It's time to move.

Time is precious. Time is life. Don't be slow. Do it fast, and do it good.

"Stormtroopers" you finally answer her, cinching your backpack firmly on your shoulders, expresion growing firm and serious. "Got this whole area studied in case someone found out about my past and went towards me, but I didn't think it would be this many enemies. I think there's something you haven't told me, but there's no time for that now. Listen carefully, 'cause I'm not gonna' say this twice".

Omega nods, just slightly afraid, and you push a smaller datapad into her hands.

"This is a second safe house I've got prepared not too far away from here, close to the lake" you explain to her, quickly. "Follow the map and go there. There's different routes saved up in case you find one blocked or any other difficulties. Be silent, be quick, and you shouldn't have much problem getting there. Once you're inside, open the closet in the corner of the cabin and in the first drawer you'll see another datapad. It controls some explosives I've got set around that house. If for some reason the stormtroopers get to the safehouse before I do, blow them up, and run away. I'll be able to track your location if you have that datapad on you, it's conected to mine, so I'll find you sooner or later. Got it?"

Omega nods, brow furrowed in concentration. She looks up at you anxiously.

"What will you do? You're not... Coming with me?"

You shake your head.

"I'll buy you time" you answer, firm. "Got a few surprises set out round here as well, and I'm trained. I'll clear this out and follow you to the safe house".

You open the door of the cabin and take a carefull glance out. You make a gesture towards her.

"You should go now. They're still a kilometer away".

Omega stays stuck to the floor. You narrow your eyes at her.

"Go" you snap towards her. Then, your eyes soften. "I will go after you, I promise".

Don't promise things that aren't in your hand to make it happen or not.

But promises give hope.

False hope.

Sometimes false hope is all you need to fight harder.

Omega runs into the forest, and you're quick to close the door and abandon the cabin as well, finding your hiding spot among the trees and keeping an eye at the aproaching stormtroopers through your datapad.

You knew this kid meant trouble. Well, if war is what they want... Your fingers caresses the hilts of your blades. That's what they'll get.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You logically know you're no match for these stormtroopers if you were to pull a direct open attack on them. You use your advantages, though; you're in your territory, one you know well, and they're advancing with blind trust that you'd be no real danger to them. It does wonders for your counter attack, and you silently move through the forest, killing one lonely soldier after the other with just a quick slash of your blade, throats splitting open and last words muffled against the palm of your globed hand in a wet gurgle of confusion and pannick. You gently let each body fall to the ground before you're moving towards the next one, checking their positions on your datapad through the cams you've got almost everywhere; lethal, quick, and quiet.

When they finally discover you –one soldier catching you silently opening the throat of a fellow one, and he shouts out your position in alarm–you've already killed half of them in the silence of the night.

It turns harder after that. They know you're around, they're aware, active; they know you're not an innocent normal civilian any longer. You're danger, real; they're coordinated, and they move fast as well. You hadn't used your blasters before in order to take advantage of the element of surprise; but you need them now, so you dodge and take your shot at them. Two more fall down before two of their own shots hit both your blaster –ripping it from your hand– and your right shoulder. You swallow your scream of pain and whimper quietly, clenching your jaw shut. You push through the pain and retreat back to the cabin in a hurry; it's your best chance.

It's a game of agility and speed. If you get there first, and they close around your home, you'll detonate the explosives hidden in the ground and kill them all. If they catch you before you're able to do that... It's you who'll end up dead.

Adrenaline rushes through your body and you feel like you're flying while you run. A shot scorches the armour plate on your back, and though it makes you stumble, you grin darkly. You've made it, and they're all dead.

You turn around to watch them and press the button on your datapad. All around you, the forest explodes and burns.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Once you make sure there are no survivors around you –you have to shoot a pair of them down who are still struggling to breathe through the scorching pain–, you take a bacta pad from your backpack and cover your wound with it, wrapping a bandage around it to properly secure it before you're walking away from you're no-longer home. You'll tend to it properly afterwards, later; right now you don't feel like it's safe to stay here, where you've caused such a wrath. You need to get to your safe house. You need to find Omega; and you bet these stormtroopers must have reinforcements somewhere.

Fuck, this is all a mess. This is going to put a bullseye on your back and you would probably never be safe in this planet again; you should probably make a jump more sooner than later.

You sigh tiredly and continue making your way through the forest, periodically checking your datapad. You feel relieved to know that at least Omega's signal is permanently stationed there on your second cabin.

You're still checking the cams, so there should not be a way for you to get surprised; but almost upon arriving your safe house, you catch a blur of grey, red, orange and blue moving towards you at high speed with the corner of your eyes. You barely have time to identify what it is before you're being brutally tackled to the ground with a painful grunt. You fight back viciously, cataloging the man's appearance while you swing your vibroblade and try to slash him with it; the soldier quickly grabbing your hand and forcing you to drop the weapon with brutal force, almost twisting your wrist and fingers in his effort. You hiss and roll around, keeping him under you this time. It's not like you're lacking knifes...

You manage to draw one from your belt and push it right to his neck when someone else clears his throat at your back; making you glance back.

Fuck, this one's huge.

"Need some help, sarge?" He almost mocks him, and you're momentarily surprised by the entertainment in his voice, the camaraderie between this two stormtroopers as clear as the water from Naboo lakes.

You quickly pull your second blaster out and try to shoot at him; but he's faster, and he shoots back, hitting the very center of your chest plate. The impact is so close it pushes you off from the first soldier's body; who quickly takes advantage of the momentum to efectivelly pin you under him, no way of escaping them now.

Your mind is divided between trying to cope with the pain on your chest and the pannicking fact that you're trapped, and this is probably your end. Angry, frightened tears fill your eyes.

"Where is she?" the soldier on top of you demands, voice deep and almost raspy.

You narrow your eyes at him.

"Go fuck yourself" you spit in between your panting breaths.

The big one chuckles.

The trooper on top of you rips his helmet off and stares at you; clenching his jaw. You get why he decided to do that; he looks intimidating, with half of his face tattoed in black, almost mimicking a skeleton. He lowers his face and you can't help but grow tense.

"You did a good job with those stormtroopers, but I don't have any patience left, mercenary. Where. Is she".

He presses you against the floor with his hands on your shoulder, and you whimper involuntarily when he pushes against your covered wound.

The fact that he has refered to the stormtroopers with "those" slowly registers your mind. He talks about them as if they weren't ones themselves. You quickly scan them with your eyes. They're definitely not clones, no –at least not the normal ones–, and they are soldiers. Perhaps they belong to some other organization? But what could they want Omega for?

"Not a mercenary, just a normal civ here" you push through the pain and actually grin at him, defiantly, almost whispering against his lips. "And like I said; go fuck yourself".

His right hand turns into a fist and retreats, prepared to hit you, when a pannicked voice echoes in the silence of the forest, running towards you.

"Hunter! W-wait!"

The soldier's head snap towards the girl and his eyes fill with confusion, relief, and worry.

"Step back, Omega. Stay away" he orders, with a familiarity that suddenly makes everything gain sense.

The facts falls into place. This is Hunter, the brother Omega mentioned before; the one with the vibroblade. Your eyes fly to the spot for it in his own vambrace. Oh, you're all so stupid. You've almost killed each other looking for the same thing; to protect the kid.

"She's not your enemy!" Omega insists, panting while she finally reaches you lot, the big guy holding her back with a carefully heavy hand on her shoulder, a confused expresion in his scared face. "This is Blade. She was a GAR medic. She's being helping me since I got separated from you, protected me from some bad guys and even stitched my wound up and everything. Please, Hunter. I'm okay".

The man's eyes scan her up and down; first focusing on her covered stomach, searching for the wound, before continuing with the rest of her. Once he confirms she's okay, he locks eyes with Omega; both of them staring at each other for a few seconds before Hunter sighs and turns his face back towards you. You breathe and try to calm your speeding heart.

"Where exactly did you serve?" He asks, voice firm but more gentle now.

He still holds you tightly under him. As much as he wants to believe those words, he needs to check the information out.

You answer him patiently.

"327th Star Corps, under Bly and General Secura".

Hunter repeats the information over his coms without taking his eyes from you. A flicker of surprise crosses his serious expression; perhaps noticing you didn't name the Comander by his rank, but his name.

Okay, Blades. You can consider us friends now.

Your heart clenches. You glance away.

"The information appears to be correct, Hunter" a self-assured voice picks up in between the static. "There's plenty of data of a doctor going by the nickname Blade on the old GAR registers. Including the incident that prompted such name, amongst dozens of post-mission reports and recomendations. She's being searched by the Empire as well".

The coms grow silent again, and Hunter inmediately relaxes his hold on you, trusting his –other brother, you guess?– entirely.

"Forgive me" he tells you, standing up and offering you his own hand, a guilty and almost sheepish expresion on his face now. "I thought..."

"I was a mercenary that killed all those stormtroopers just to collect a price, yeah, I know" you cut him off, slowly standing up as well and wincing at the pain.

Now that the adrenaline is dropping, you feel exhausted and nautious.

"Not that she isn't a cute kid and that, but what's so special about her?" You can't help but ask.

They all tense, and you sigh in understanding.

"Family keeps family safe, okay" you accept.

Hunter's eyes flicker down towards your scorched chest plate and your bandaged shoulder. Blood is staining the bandage now, after the pressure he put on your wound seconds ago. He frowns.

"You hurt?"

You nod quietly.

"Believe it or not, trying to get rid of a whole squad of stormtroopers on your own is not that easy" you find enough energy to joke.

A tiny smirk tugs on his lips.

"Oh, I know. I'm impressed, though".

The booming voice of his other brother almost startles you into a jump.

"Yeah, we all are!"

You smile and shrug.

Hunter glances around.

"We should get out of here. We got our ship docked close. Want us to take you somewhere?" He offers.

"Any other planet would be nice" you answer, and he nods.

"Sorry for all the trouble. And thank you" he finally says, and you sigh with a small tired smile.

"Alright".

With nothing more to say, Hunter leads the way back to their ship, Omega walking besides him and Wrecker closing the line. You can't help but analise the man's interactions with the girl. It's sweet, really, the fatherly way he looks at her. It's hot too.

Oh well. You can't help but think that either. He looks good fighting, and you always had a bit of a competency kink.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fiuuuuuuu!!!! This one took me really long to write bc I'm DYING with my exams and I have 0,0000001% energy (and time) spare to write. I'm actually finishing this off rn after reading my last unit for the day, i'm exhausted send help.

Anyhow, I think this little story developed okay, so I hope you like it! In case any of you hadn't guess it yet or still had doubts, the cursive stands for thoughts and memories of female reader back in battle with the GAR and her men. It's always so fun to write badass characters!

We've got JUST ONE MORE REQUEST to write (a super fluffy hunter one with dancer!femalereader) to oficially finish the second part of my requests list (will open a third one in the future don't fret). That would be 20 requests already look at that!

Also, I just need 7 more followers to make it to a hundred, and I've been thinking on doing something special for it. Suggestions?

Stay tunned for the next one and take care!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to general masterlist here:

75 notes · View notes