#Hunter’s hairs are as thick as Crosshair’s are thin

[fog-n-dance]

It is 4am here, I’m leaving for work soon, and coming accross art-soop’s amazing art I started thinking about all the haircuts Hunter would want to try over the years on Pabu. All the beard styling and changing and stuff.

And my God, about all the S H I T that Crosshair would give him every. single. time. While of course secretly envying him so hard ‘cause he’s the only one who can do that.

Voilà, that’s gonna be this shift’s mental focus, another good day of zoning out 👌🏻

[drafthorsemath]

Home

A/N: I still want Tech to be alive so I’m making it happen and all working within the scope of canon. Here we have old man Tech and Phee.

Warnings: disabled Tech, talk of his fall and the aftermath, discussion of broken bones and almost bleeding out

Word Count: 1.534k

There was a lot of hustle around the rebel base. Several pilots were headed out, but Tech was more concerned with who was coming in. Omega had comm’d to say she left Pabu and was on her way. Tech sighed. Just as she was coming he would be going. More than that, while he and Phee stopped by so they could use their skills to fix up an old ship for a new crew, Omega would be out in the thick of it and he was worried for her. He knew they were all worried about her, but just as he respected Echo’s choice and Crosshair’s choice in years past, he respected hers as well. She was as ready to be a rebel pilot as ever, very much in part to the lessons he gave her back on Pabu.

“Hey Brown Eyes,” Phee said with a hand on his shoulder. “Ready to go?”

“Nearly,” he replied, smiling as she ran her hand through his graying and still thinning hair.

He reached for his spanner on the side of his hoverchair and continued to work on the power booster in front of him. He flinched just slightly as he made some adjustments. The arthritis wasn’t making it any easier. Still, he was pleased that while there he and Phee showed some new recruits as many skills as they could.

He put his tools back in place along the side of the humming hoverchair and took a breath. Phee smiled down at him. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. She was as lovely as ever. Gray streaks in her hair and small wrinkles forming on her face, but no amount of time dulled her spirit. He could never forget the day he finally made it back to Pabu and the relief he felt to see her and his family. Echo was off with Rex, but he was assured he was safe. Omega and Crosshair were home and Wrecker and Hunter had started easing into island life. 

“Better late than dead?” he asked the first time he saw Phee after stumbling off a ship.

She threw her arms around him with tears in her eyes and despite the pain he was still in, he embraced her warmth.

“So much better late than dead, Brown Eyes.”

His body had been through so much. Bones had taken months to mend and he knew that some of them hadn’t healed properly. He went through the painful process of a doctor rebreaking and resetting them. Phee sat with him through every procedure and he knew for sure that he wanted her in his life for however long it was. He woke up in agony after the worst of it, his lower back and legs in braces. She sat in a chair and rested her head on the bed near him. He softly smiled and put a hand on hers. 

During his recovery they started running low on med patches. She flew into imperial territory just to get more for him and to restock the supply on the island. It was during that time he was able to catch up with Crosshair. Both men were relieved to see each other and it didn’t take long for them to find their way into a comfortable mix of conversation and shared silence.

“How did you do it?” Crosshair asked. “Survive?”

“I thought that was probably going to be the end of me,” Tech admitted. “But I was able to change the angle of my fall and thankfully I hit the edge of a body of water and softer ground. The impact probably would have killed me otherwise.”

He went on to explain that all he could remember was trying to take his helmet off because his comms had died and his helmet cracked. Somewhere along the way he lost his goggles and slowly realized a piece of broken armor had pierced his abdomen. He kept it in place to reduce the risk of bleeding out as he stumbled along, but the terrain quickly became the familiar stone they saw poke above the mist. All he remembered was passing out and waking up briefly on a ship. When he got to this part of the story, he recalled Phee warning him not to run off with any pirates. Of course it was the pirates who saved him. Granted, they thought they could get some money selling his armor and possessions and were unable to get the elaborate set up off his body with his chest plate twisted as it was, so they just took all of him. One of the pirates couldn’t stand to watch him bleed out and so got him some minimal medical treatment that ended up being just enough to save his life. He spent months trying to get back to Pabu and contact his brothers, but the Empire was everywhere at this point and he had to focus on not getting caught since he couldn’t very well run from them. His best bet was to be friendly with the pirates and help them in an attempt to help himself. He knew the coordinates to some useful planets and knew how to fix just about any broken thing put in front of him. He essentially hitched a ride around the galaxy while his body tried to mend.

Tech looked at his brother with a bit of a grimace.

“I decided if they want to use me for my skills then fine. It kept me alive and I used them as transport in return. Eventually we made it close enough that I knew I could probably get here without a major medical event. I took a small ship, left while they were out drinking, and finally made it to Pabu. You know the rest.”

Crosshair put his hand on Tech’s shoulder just as his brother had done with him countless times.

“We survived and we’re here now,” Crosshair said. “That’s all that matters now.”

It took weeks for Tech’s body to heal the rest of the way, but this time he had hope and real help. Even on days when he could barely move, Phee and his brothers helped him get up and down, made sure he had something to eat, made sure he had something else to keep him occupied, and helped him in and out of the refresher. Once he was ready, Tech accompanied her on trips to recover artifacts. Phee was extra careful, knowing that his soldiering days were very well behind him and never wanting him put in too much danger. Still, he had a few tricks up his sleeve and was very creative when it came to making technology work for him even when his body struggled. More than that, he simply wanted to be with Phee any way he could.

Unfortunately as time went on, his old injuries made it difficult to walk very far. He crafted his own hoverchair, but could still go from the chair into bed or another seat. He still walked short distances, but the chair supported him for the most part. He was not-so-secretly fond of asking Phee to sit in his lap and taking her for “a stroll” around the island.

When Echo got word that the rebellion needed help rebuilding a ship, Tech’s face lit up. There was no stopping him. He and Phee would be back to Pabu after this one last job. Just one more ship to rebuild and then he could rest. Of course Phee knew better and shook her head. As much as his body was giving out on him, his head would never rest and it was one of the things she loved most about him. He always kept his mind occupied, exceptional as always.

They finished loading some items onto their ship, but stayed to greet Omega when she landed. He embraced his sister before grilling her on piloting procedures only to be met with a familiar pair of rolled eyes and an affectionate smile. Omega invited them up to see the upgrades she made to her ship. Tech greeted Gonky and was satisfied as he looked around. They said their goodbyes and Omega promised to come back and visit when she could.

“I still don’t know why she insists on keeping my old goggles with her,” Tech said as he and Phee boarded their ship.

“Because it reminds her of you,” she replied.

“Not one of our fondest memories,” he said, gazing up into his beloved’s eyes with a sad smile.

“No, but it’s all we had to hold on to for months as far as physical items,” Phee countered. “You know Omega. She brought Lula with her. She likes having those things to hold on to.”

“I know,” he said. “You’re right.”

Tech lifted himself from the hoverchair and gingerly moved to the co-pilot seat. Phee was right there ready to lend a hand, but he still had enough strength to move himself. She parked his hoverchair right behind them and pressed a kiss to his forehead before sitting in the pilot seat and punching in the familiar coordinates to Pabu. It was time to go home.

[agentmarymargaretskitz]

Mustache

A little Tech and Phee (Phech?) fic with a heaping side of Bad Batch family feels

AO3

               Tech stared at his reflection in the mirror, razor inches from the shaving foam on the lower portion of his face. Usually, he would have completed the job of shaving without a second thought. Since he’d been able to grow facial hair, Tech habitually remained clean-shaven. Hunter never had anything more than a few days scruff and being the leader and eldest brother, Tech just followed his lead. Vanity served no purpose during a war.

               Yet now, he recollected a holofilm that the community on Pabu had shown primarily for the children down on the beach. Some adults had also attended, including himself and Phee. Tech remembered how her eyes had shown with desire at one protagonist, a long-lost love turned pirate who sported a handsome mustache. He did not recollect most of the movie due to participation in an appropriate public display of affection with his companion, but that look in Phee’s eyes…

What might she think if he adapted a similar look?

               Finally, the clone brought the razor to his face and began the process of shaving the bristles from his cheeks and chin. He could recall the style of the mustache enough to replicate it beneath his nose. Once he washed the remnants of foam from his face, Tech took a moment to examine his handiwork. It would take a while to grow in further and groom, but it was at the very least identifiable. He appreciated the way he looked for a moment before putting the razor away.

               Finishing the final steps to his morning routine, Tech opened the door to the fresher in time to dodge Wrecker’s fist swinging down. His brother managed to look sheepish before frowning at Tech. No doubt he had noticed the alteration made to his features. Tech sidestepped out into the hall, waiting for the reaction of his brother.

Wrecker cleared his throat, pointing to his own face. “You, uh, missed a spot.”

“I did not,” Tech told him. “I’ve decided to try something.”

“Oh,” Wrecker squinted at it. “Not too bad.”

Praise was praise, but it was not Wrecker’s opinion that would be the deciding factor in the retention of facial hair. “Thank you, Wrecker.”

/`\

               Hunter was in the kitchen, frowning over a datapad when Tech came down the steps. Following the events of the sea surge, the squad had acquired a house in Lower Pabu during its reconstruction. They’d managed to split sleeping quarters with Omega, Wrecker, and Tech in two rooms upstairs and Hunter down below. After Echo returned and Crosshair soon after, assignments shifted so Tech roomed with his twin upstairs, Wrecker moved down with Hunter, and Echo took over the couch. It was cozy living quarters, yet it sparked the reconnection and conversations necessary to move forward.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to be this thick,” Hunter grumbled as Tech approached the counter where a bowl of batter rested with a spoon sticking upright.

“What are you attempting to make?” Tech questioned, pushing the spoon through the extremely viscous matter.

“Panna cakes,” Hunter mumbled, still focused on the batter. “Shep gave me the recipe.”

Tech reached across to snag the datapad, scanning through the instructions. “Did you pack the flour into the measuring cup?”

Hunter said nothing, a confirmation that he had indeed done so.

“You will need to thin it out in order to scoop it onto the griddle,” Tech instructed, setting the datapad down. “Wrecker is in the fresher. Where are the others?”

“Omega went to go study outside, Crosshair went for a walk, and Echo went to pick up some fruit,” Hunter listed off, finally lifting his head up and doing a double take. “What’s on your face?”

“It is called a mustache.”

“I know what a mustache is, Tech,” Hunter muttered, adding some water and giving the batter some firm stirs. “Why do you have one?”

The question stung somewhat, but Tech knew Hunter meant no harm. “I’m trying something.”

“Huh,” Hunter gave an approving nod. “Suits you.”

/`\

“So…why the mustache?”

               Tech closed the cabinet where he’d just stacked the washed plates and looked over at Echo. His older brother was busy packing up some leftover fruit and panna cakes (which had tasted decent after Hunter salvaged the recipe) into a container for Crosshair. Tech’s twin had elected not join them for breakfast to continue his exploration of the island. Hunter was going to take off later to go in search of him with the food. Crosshair did this often since he’d returned, and while it was less frequent than his first days, he still went off on his own without leaving a message until the last minute. Tech wished his brother would let them in, but they would only be allowed when Crosshair was ready.

“Tech,” Echo said a little more loudly.

He adjusted his goggles slightly. “I decided I would like to try something new with my appearance.”

“Uh huh,” his brother nodded, propping his arms on the counter. “And this is a decision you’re making for you?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing to do with impressing a certain liberator of ancient wonders?”

Tech reached for the cutlery in the drying rack by the sink. “…no.”

“Tech,” Echo’s big brother voice came out. “You don’t need to change anything about yourself to impress Phee. You shouldn’t have to change yourself for someone’s love.”

“I am well aware.”

Echo wasn’t done yet. “Anyways, she already cares about you, no matter what you look like.”

His face flushed a little. Tech was aware of Phee’s affections for him, but the reminder gave him that lovely little buoyant feeling in his chest. He never tired of the sensation or how the thought of her brought a smile to his face now. She’d left a few days ago on search of another artifact for a family of refuges from Desix. Hopefully, she would be back in the next day or so.

“I am confident in my relationship with her, regardless of my appearance,” Tech told Echo as he sorted the cutlery. “But from an aesthetic perspective, I must ask you a question.”

“You mean you mustache me a question?”

Tech waited for Echo to stop chuckling over his little joke. “Does it appear aesthetically pleasing?”

His brother studied him for a moment. “I’m not one for facial hair personally. Reg manuals were always so strict about what was good to go and what wasn’t. It doesn’t really suit me anyways.”

Tech braced himself.

“But it looks good on you, Tech.”

/`\

For all the compliments and support he’d gotten from his brothers, Tech did worry about Omega’s uncharacteristic silence during his tutoring of her. Granted, she usually did listen and rarely interrupted during the lessons he gave. Now, his sister would not look up at his face, remaining more focused on the novel recommended to them by a Twi’lek couple down the street from their home as being appropriate for Omega’s age. It was like she couldn’t bring herself to really look at him.

It had been a long time since insecurities about his appearance truly bothered Tech. As a cadet, all of Clone Force 99 experienced their share of bullying for how they looked from other clones. It fell within typical growing pains all life forms experienced during their growth and development. Tech learned quicker than the rest of his brothers to value his intelligence over his looks. But Omega’s reaction was starting to bring old feelings back.

“Does my mustache make you uncomfortable?” he asked suddenly.

The young clone glanced up halfway and shook her head.

Despite what Echo had told him in the morning about how he shouldn’t change for others, Tech felt a guilty pang. “Omega, you can tell me the truth. I will not be offended.”

She mumbled something indecipherable.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m not used to it,” Omega repeated, making the effort to look up at him now. “You look different.”

Tech mulled her words over. “I suppose I do. It was a spur of the moment decision.”

“Like Hunter’s tattoo?”

“Do not tell him I told you about that,” Tech told her, getting a little giggle from her. “It is not my intention to unsettle you, Omega. I am sorry for doing so.”

“It’s okay. We have to adapt to change, right?”

“Yes, but-”

“You like it,” Omega gave him an earnest smile. “You seem happy with it. I’ll learn to like it.”

He relaxed at that. “Thank you, Omega.”

“And I think Phee will like it too,” she added, winking at him.

Oh, little sisters.

/`\

               By the afternoon, Tech had meandered down to the docks. Lyanna’s boat had been experiencing engine trouble for a few days, so he had offered his services to the Hazards to fix it. Shep agreed and told him he could take it out for a spin too. Despite growing up on an ocean planet, Tech had never driven a boat before. The opportunity to learn was so appealing that he couldn’t resist.

Finding Crosshair down there was just an added bonus.

“Care to give me a hand with some repairs?” he asked when he approached his twin brother.

Crosshair seemed surprised to see him but gave a silent nod of agreement and followed him to the boat. Tech did the brunt of the work while the sniper passed him the tools he needed without a word. His brother’s enhancement might have been in his eyes, but he was smart enough to know which Tech required next. Wrecker had commented once how creepy it was how they could always work together so quietly and know what the other needed, but it never felt that way to Tech.

Once the engine functioned properly once more, Tech looked over at his brother to see if he would be leaving or staying. Crosshair made no move aside from a simple shrug, so Tech started the boat and steered them out into open water. It reminded him of flying the Marauder, except he had to pay more attention to the waves as they glided away from the island.

When they were far enough out, Tech killed the engine and took a seat near Crosshair, leaving a decent gap between them. He had missed his twin so much since that night on Kamino when they left Crosshair behind. While he still could not agree with Crosshair’s decision to stay with the Empire months ago, Tech pondered often if he would have gone with their brothers had he been the one left behind and none of them returned for him. Fortune favored him to never go through that experience though, whereas Crosshair had not been so lucky.

“I really missed you,” Tech spoke at last, turning his gaze away from Pabu to look at his brother.

Crosshair turned towards him. In the weeks since his brother come back, he already looked better than the emaciated husk they’d rescued from Mount Tantiss. Getting him to eat, sleep, and just be human again had been an uphill battle. Now, the sniper was less bony, and his hair was starting to grow back, save for where he’d been burned. Some life had returned to Crosshair’s eyes, although there were days when they looked even more hollow than Echo’s had been after Skako Minor.

“I missed you too,” Crosshair’s voice was only just audible over the waves slapping the boat. “I missed everyone.”

This wasn’t the first time they’d said those words to each other, and Tech had a feeling it would not be the last.

“I want to be family again, but I don’t know how…”

“Crosshair, you never stopped being family.”

A tear fell from the sniper’s cheek onto his pants. Tech reached over to place a hand on his brother’s shoulder, waiting to see if it would be shrugged off or accepted. When Crosshair didn’t bat it away, Tech slid over and wrapped his arms around his twin brother. The gesture was returned quickly, and Tech pushed his goggles up so his tears wouldn’t get caught in the frames.

Once they finally let go, Crosshair cleared his throat. “The mustache is new.”

“I’m trying something new,” Tech admitted. “And…I think Phee might like it. I want to surprise her.”

A little smirk tugged at Crosshair’s lips. “You’re gone for her.”

“I have…a very strong affection for her.”

His twin chuckled. “I’m happy for you two. And it’s a good look.”

“I appreciate the compliment.”

“And it means I can grow a beard now without Hunter saying anything if you keep the lip hair.”

Tech gave him a light punch. “Thank you, Crosshair.”

In the sky above, a ship emerged from the clouds, heading right for Upper Pabu.

He already knew who it was.

/`\

               The sun had begun to set by the time the twins made it back to the docks of Lower Pabu. They paid for a few fish that Crosshair promised to take right home without going for another wander. Tech planned to join him to help with the meal preparation. Unfortunately, Crosshair commed Wrecker so he could get more sway to convince Tech to go show Phee his new look first. Echo and Hunter had then gotten in, urging him to go visit and invite her to dinner.

               Once they finally persuaded him, Tech walked off in the direction of the path along the wall leading to Upper Pabu. He wondered what Phee would think of the mustache. Over the course of the day, hearing the approval from his brothers and the acceptance from Omega made him realize that he liked himself with a mustache. However, Tech now wondered what it was going to feel like on a mission under his helmet. Would he still look like a soldier with this facial hair?

This was why he didn’t do vanity.

               Halfway up the hill, Tech caught sight of someone walking down. The closer he got, the more details he could identify. The blue band tied around her hair. The floral pattern on her shirt. A smile spreading across her face as she picked up the pace to meet him. The buoyant feeling filled him again as he quickened his own steps.

“Hey there, Brown Eyes,” Phee greeted when they reached each other.

“Phee,” Tech held out his elbow to her. “I missed you.”

“You couldn’t wait until I came down to find you?” she teased, linking her arm through his.

Tech shook his head as they started back down to Lower Pabu. “I was planning to comm you later, but my brothers insisted I go and meet you. Echo also said I should invite you to dinner.”

“That’s polite of him.”

               He asked her a few questions about her journey to Desix. It did relieve him to see her in one piece, especially with what Crosshair had told them about the Imperial occupation there. While Tech wasn’t sure that he was a “goner” for Phee, he did want her to be safe in the same way he wanted his brothers and sister to stay safe. She was more than capable of taking care of herself, but Tech still had his worries.

At the base of the mountain, Tech stopped to watch the last moments of sunset with Phee and the lights illuminate in the lower part of the island. It never ceased to be a breathtaking sight, no matter how many times he saw it. While he still considered himself a soldier, Tech felt like an ordinary civilian whenever he took time to enjoy the simple pleasures of the galaxy. To feel normal after growing up in what many considered abnormal always felt so novel. He couldn’t get tired of it.

When he turned to look back at Phee, her hand reached up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over the hairs of his mustache.

“That’s new,” she murmured thoughtfully.

“Do you like it?” Tech asked quickly.

Phee raised an eyebrow. “Do you like it?”

“My brothers have given their approvals.”

“That wasn’t what I asked, Tech.”

Tech rubbed the back of his neck. “I…noticed you admiring the actor’s mustache in the holofilm the other night. When I needed to shave again, I decided to try and emulate it.”

“And?” Phee prompted.

“I think I like it, although I don’t know how it will feel when I wear my helmet for missions…”

Phee put a finger to his lips. “But you like it?”

“Yes,” Tech nodded. “I do. And not just because I wanted to surprise you.”

A smile bloomed across the pirate’s face as she leaned up to give him a brief peck on the lips. “Good. And it looks great on you.”

“I can always shave it off if you don’t like it.”

“Tech,” Phee lowered her hand to grasp his. “You do whatever you want to do with this ‘stache. There’s no rules. You’re not tied to an army anymore. Pabu is a clean slate. You can grow a mustache, a goatee, scruff or a full beard. Whatever you want.”

He already knew all this, but he loved hearing it again. “I’d like to kiss you again.”

“You can always steal a kiss from me, Brown Eyes.”

               Tech took her up on that, leaning down to give her a proper kiss. Her hand migrated down from his face to his bicep as he intertwined their fingers with the other hand. A laugh escaped Phee midway through the kiss. Confused, Tech pulled back a little.

“It tickles more than I thought it would,” explained Phee. “A good tickle.”

Tech straightened in interest at the new information. “Oh?”

“Oh yeah,” she nodded. “And there’s more places you can tickle when you’re ready.”

Tech was very much a goner for her. “That is something we could test.”

[casual-violinist-fangirl]

Time for Celebration: 4,545 words

. Hunter x OC - lots of fluff!!

. Tech and OC are besties, I said what I said.

. Hunter and Omega father/daughter relationship!

- this is also posted on AO3, link is in my previous post but I’ll post these together next time I write something! All Mando’a translations are at the bottom. 😊😊😊

———————

Their mission had been a success; Cid had sent them to one of Saleucami’s moons to gather intel on the Empire’s movements in a small farming village. It had seemed a simple mission at first and shouldn’t have taken longer than a couple of days… but this was the Bad Batch. Stealth was hardly their forte, and it hadn’t taken them long to get caught in the act of retrieving the much desired intel. They were forced to shoot their way out of the scenario (as per usual), improvising as they went.

On the bright side, they had managed to rid the village of the Empire and there was no denying that the locals had been very grateful.

The village chief had announced that they would host a celebration for the troops and that they were more than welcome to lay low there for a few days whilst they recovered. Omega had jumped at the opportunity to stay for a while, wanting to learn about all of the animals and farming equipment there was; Hunter could never say no to her, and so it was decided. The group had managed to find a collection of civilian clothes to wear, taking the opportunity to escape their armour and blacks.

‘Hunter!’ Omega came barrelling into the room just as he turned around, having heard her footsteps. He had not been prepared for the sight that greeted him though, and it brought a smile to his face.

One of the village children had taken Omega under her wing, and as soon as it was decided that they were staying, had dragged the little clone off to help her get ready for the celebration. It would appear that the definition of getting ready was finding a spare dress for Omega to wear and supplying her with a little headband made of local flowers. She had a huge smile on her face, and Hunter couldn’t help but return it.

‘Maisie put flowers in my hair and let me borrow one of her dresses!’ Omega announced almost as though it wasn’t obvious. ‘What do you think?’

Her brown eyes were wide with excitement, and Hunter couldn’t deny that she looked rather cute. The dress she was wearing was a pale green and as she spun around to show him, the skirt flared out a little.

‘You look lovely, ad’ika,’ he responded, making the little girl blush, suddenly going shy at the term of endearment. ‘Now shouldn’t we go and find the others?’

Omega nodded, taking his hand and dragging him along, a smug and knowing smile on her face. Hunter couldn’t quite figure out what she was thinking about, but she made it quite clear as they were heading out of the hut and towards the village centre.

‘Kahzi looked real pretty when I saw her earlier,’ she said, and Hunter couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the comment. Kahzi always looked pretty… no, she looked beautiful. He’d always thought it, he would just never say it. That would put their solid and reliable relationship at risk.

Kahzi had come crashing into the Bad Batch’s life nearly six months ago; a deserter pilot from the Empire and escapee from Saw Gerrera, she had hidden herself on the Marauder when the squad had been sent to Onderon. Ever since she had been a huge part of the team’s lives, picking up the pieces when things seemed rough and even saving their lives on multiple occasions (although she still couldn’t fire a blaster to save her life).

Her and Hunter had formed an especially close bond, especially in the weeks following Crosshair’s departure from the team. She was a good listener, her grey eyes full of empathy of whatever the situation, and more often than not she could come up with something that would make him feel better. They had helped each other through thick and thin over her time with the batch and it had gotten to the point where his stomach did somersaults every time she walked into the room. Hiding his feelings hadn’t been difficult, what with how busy their lives had been up until the fall of Tipoca City, however since then things had been much slower… needless to say his brothers had started picking up on things.

‘I’m sure she does look pretty,’ he replied stiffly, choosing to ignore the slightly smug look on Omega’s face. She had gotten that expression off of Tech, he would recognise that anywhere. ‘Maisie said that there’s loads of music and dancing at this celebration,’ Omega continued. ‘I wonder if Kahzi will dance with anyone.’

The sergeant cringed internally at that. She was really laying it on thick today; it was no big secret that Omega thought the world of Kahzi, seeing her like a big sister or even a mother at times. If anything that only made Hunter’s heart ache more for her. They had been mistaken for a little family on more than one occasion, and every now and then he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if the three of them were a family. With the others, of course. Omega adored her brothers.

Shaking himself out of his train of thought and focusing on Omega he found himself blushing slightly. ‘I wonder if she will,’ he commented, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible. Omega wasn’t falling for it, and her grin widened as she picked up her pace, skipping towards the village centre.

‘Kid!’ Hunter let go of Omega’s hand as she bounded over to Wrecker, excited to show him her new dress. He was stood with Echo and Tech, and picked her up in the playful way he usually does when he greets her.

‘Do you like my new dress?’ she gushed, her comments about Kahzi seemingly forgotten for the time being. As she chatted animatedly with her brothers the centre started filling up a little more; a fire pit had been lit and the locals were setting up a table of food and drinks for everyone to share. A small part of Hunter longed for a simpler life, a life like the one that the people in this village lead. He shook himself out of that, knowing that realistically for someone like him it probably wasn’t the best idea to settle in one place for too long.

A nudge from Echo drew him out of his thoughts and he looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow. ‘What?’ he went to ask as he turned to see what Echo was looking at before the words died his throat.

Kriffing hell.

Kahzi emerged from the crowds, looking for her friends and smiling widely when she spotted them. Hunter’s throat went dry when he saw her and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks once more.

Kahzi had also been allowed to borrow some clothes it seemed, as she was now wearing a pale blue jumpsuit that he had never seen her in before… not that he knew about all of the clothes she owned! It’s just that all of Kahzi’s clothes were made for practicality, and this jumpsuit looked as though it was made from a light a flowing material and hair a fairly low cut v-neck… not practical for anything that the squad got up to.

The second thing he noticed about her was that her dirty blonde hair had been released from it’s usual ponytail and was now flowing down past er shoulders. It still held the curls that it possessed when it was up, but they seemed a lot softer as they hung around her shoulders. Whoever had done her hair had taken the time to make sure that her (well Tech’s spare) goggles didn’t get in the way of the hairstyle. She looked… breathtaking.

‘Kahzi!’ Omega scrambled down from Wrecker’s hold and ran to the woman smiling away. ‘You look really pretty,’ she said almost shyly as she looked up at her friend. Kahzi smiled softly at the little girl and crouched down to her level.

‘So do you, ad’ika,’ she replied. ‘I love your flower crown!’ She stood to her full height again, and as with Hunter, Omega took her hadn’t and dragged her towards the others. Hunter’s heart fluttered slightly at the sight. Kahzi was the only other person on the squad who called Omega ad’ika, taking pride in using the term when addressing the little girl (she had been the one to teach Omega some Mando’a after all.)

Echo, ever the gentleman, was the first to greet her, complimenting her. ‘You look lovely, Kahzi,’ he said with a small and knowing smile, his eyes flickering between the young woman and Hunter. She blushed lightly and bowed her head, always shy about her appearance.

‘Yeah!’ Wrecker added, as always acting the big brother around her. ‘You look real pretty.’

Even Tech, who usually had his nose buried in a holo pad, took the time to look up and smile at her. ‘The look suits you…’ he trailed off, not entirely sure what else to say, but to Kahzi that was more than enough. Her and Tech had a very close friendship due to them both being knowledgable of ships and all things flying. Needless to say, they understood each other very well, nearly better than Tech’s brothers understood him.

‘Thanks fellas,’ she replied, smiling at them all. Before Hunter could contribute to the conversation, Omega had grabbed Kahzi’s hand as was dragging her off towards the fire and the music that had not long started. ‘Come on, Kahzi!’ she gushed. ‘You’ve gotta come and dance with me and my new friends.’

The woman found herself being lead away, but looked back at the clones with a grin and a laugh. It was the most relaxed any of them had seen her, and it made a nice change. Hunter watched her go, and turned back to his brothers only be greeted with smug grins. ‘And you’re definitely not smitten, serge,’ Echo teased, making Wrecker laugh and Tech snort. Hunter sent all three of them a glare before turning away, focusing on the festivities taking place.

Omega, as it turned out, seemed to have an unlimited supply on energy now that they were no longer in danger. She had danced with Kahzi until the older woman insisted that she go and sit down for a minute to catch her breath; the little girl simply found herself a replacement dance partner and before long, Wrecker was dancing with her. The evening went on like this, with different members of the Bad Batch taking it in turns to dance with Omega. Echo had been reluctant at first, thinking that his prosthetics would make him a lousy dancer, but before long he was dancing along with the child without a care in the world.

Tech had been the only one who needed persuading to come onto the dance floor. The whole squad was dancing to a piece of music, and Omega went over to him with big pleading eyes. He had squirmed uncomfortably, getting ready to say no when Kahzi came dancing over, grabbing his hand and taking his holo pad in the other. Once on the dance floor he had stayed for a whole two songs, doing an awkward shuffle before asking Kahzi if he could have his pad back. She had relented, giving him a gentle one armed squeeze and a peck on the cheek before hading the device over. He had gone back to his seat rolling his eyes fondly at his best friend.

Hunter sat to one side, taking a break when Omega came over, smiling at her father-figure. ‘Hiya,’ she said as she perched on the bench next to him. There was a comfortable pause as the pair sat in silence, but Hunter raised an eyebrow as he noticed the little girl shuffling closer to him. Eventually she was close enough that he had to put his arm around her, and she took the opportunity to curl up into his side.

‘Everything alright, Omega?’ he asked, a little concerned at her sudden lack of activity. A small, yet hesitant nod told him that everything was not alright, and his worry only deepened.

‘It’s nothing to be worried about,’ she commented in a shy whisper; if Hunter had not had enhanced senses, he would not have been able to hear her over the music. He looked down at the mop of blonde hair, noticing that Omega had now buried her face into his shirt.

‘Ad’ika,’ he said, moving away from her and holding her gently by the shoulders. ‘You can talk to me, you know that right?’ Another nod, though she wasn’t making eye contact. Hunter sighed and moved back so that Omega was clinging to his side once more. He had just about given up on her telling him what was going on when he heard a small, muffled voice.

‘Is it okay if I call you buir?’

For a moment Hunter felt as though he’d been winded and his eyes widened. He looked down at the little girl he was holding only to see her now looking back up at him with her big brown eyes. A soft smile formed on his face as he held her closer, wrapping both arms around her now. ‘Of course, ad’ika,’ he responded eventually, and his smile only widened as he saw a small smile appear on Omega’s face. She threw her arms around his neck, almost knocking them both off of the bench before settling more comfortably in his lap. The pair had sat this way before, with her curled up in his arms, but somehow they felt closer than ever before.

Eventually it seemed that exhaustion overtook the little girl as Hunter could hear her breathing evening out and deepening. ‘Let’s get you back and into bed,’ he whispered as he went to stand. Omega stirred slightly in her sleep and nodded. She rested her cheek on his shoulder and he thought she had gone back to sleep when she muttered something else.

‘Cyare.’

‘What was that, Omega?’ he asked, unsure of the word. She lifted her head up momentarily to speak to him. ‘It means beloved,’ she responded sleepily. ‘I think you should talk to Kahzi… maybe you could use it then… that or cyar’ika or mesh’la. That means sweetheart or beautiful.’

With that, the little girl went back to sleep, leaving Hunter baffled. Even half asleep it seemed Omega was intent on messing with his (non-existent) love life.

As he headed back towards the Marauder he heard the soft patter of footsteps behind him. He knew exactly who it was, and turned to see Kahzi jogging to catch up with him.

‘Are you heading back to the ship?’ she asked as she caught up, spotting Omega asleep in Hunter’s arms and immediately dropping her voice to a whisper. When he nodded in response she smiled and walked alongside her friend.

They walked in a comfortable silence, not feeling the need to fill it with chatter. They had always been like this, aside from the odd argument, always happy to sit quietly together, not feeling any pressure to talk. It was as though they could read each other, something that Hunter was endlessly grateful for, especially when he was suffering a sensory overload. It wasn’t long before they reached the ship, Omega stirring as the ramp came down.

Hunter carefully clambered up the ladder to the gunners mount, making sure to tuck Omega in with both Lula and her trooper doll, smiling as she curled up in her bunk and dozed off once more. ‘Night night, buir,’ she mumbled sleepily and the older clone swore his heart skipped a beat. ‘Goodnight, ad’ika,’ he replied, climbing back down the ladder and shutting the curtain behind him.

‘She called you buir,’ a quiet voice came from the cockpit, and he turned to see Kahzi sat in the pilot’s chair. He felt his cheeks heating up as he nodded almost shyly at the comment.

‘She asked if it was okay earlier,’ he explained as he went to join her, sitting down in the co-pilot’s seat. Kahzi nodded to herself, a sudden look of realisation crossing her features. ‘So that’s why she asked me how to say dad earlier,’ she mused, a happy twinkle in her eyes.

There was a comfortable pause before the pair slipped into quiet conversation, shutting the door to the cockpit so as not to wake the sleeping child nearby. At one point Kahzi started hunting around for a hairband, squinting in the moonlight as she searched.

‘I like my hair down,’ she commented offhandedly. ‘But Maker, does it get tangled if I leave it like that for too long.’

She kept hunting only to have a hairband waved in front of her face. Hunter as it turned out, had one of hers on his wrist. She’d given it to him a while ago to look after and had forgotten to ask for it back. She went to take it off of him, but he shook his head and gestured for her to turn around in her seat. Kahzi raised an eyebrow but said nothing, swivelling in her seat so that she could sit but he could still get to the back of her head.

‘You know,’ Hunter said quietly as he gently ran his fingers through her hair to get any knots out. ‘I’ve always loved your hair up, but seeing it down this evening made a nice change.’ Kahzi sat stone still as she tried not to think about how lovely it felt to have Hunter’s fingers running through her hair. She almost complained when he stopped, but then to her surprise she felt him partitioning it and starting to weave it together.

‘What’re you doing?’ she asked, trying to turn her head to get a better look; Hunter simply stopped what he was doing and gently moved her head back into the position it had been in before.

They sat in silence for a while, Kahzi not daring to say anything because Maker did she love it when people played with her hair, especially Hunter. Come to think of it, the only person she every really let touch her hair was Hunter and occasionally Tech, but that was more to help her get engine oil out of it with a rag. The clone worked diligently, being careful not to pull to hard on her hair, but also making sure that the braid was secure. When he was finally done Kahzi turned around, feeling the heat of a blush on her cheeks. His face wasn’t much better, and there was a moment when neither of them said anything.

‘Hunter…’ Kahzi didn’t get to finish her sentence because suddenly he was cupping her cheek and leaning in and then he was kissing her.

… Hunter… was kissing her!?

It took her a moment to respond, a moment too long, because just as suddenly as the kiss had happened, it was over and Hunter was turning away from her with a slightly hurt look on his face. Kahzi’s eye were wide as she tried to take in what exactly had just happened.

‘I’m sorry,’ Hunter started, looking embarrassed. ‘I just thought you felt the same way. I should’ve asked! It’s just you looked so beautiful tonight, not that you don’t always look beautiful, and then Omega kept telling me things I could call you in Mando’a and then…’

He was cut off by a pair of hands grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him in. Then his brain stopped working because Kahzi was kissing him, and he was kissing her back and it was perfect.

Pulling away, the pair of them breathed heavily, smiling as they pressed their foreheads together. ‘Shut up,’ Kahzi whispered with a small laugh as she pressed another, gentler kiss against his lips. The pair of them sat together like that for a moment, basking in what they had just learned about one another.

‘So Omega gave you ideas of things you could call me, huh?’ She raised an eyebrow, and with that comment Hunter knew that the little girl had been messing with Kahzi just as much as she had been messing with him. He blushed again and nodded.

‘She mentioned cyare,’ he stated, and noted how Kahzi’s node wrinkled slightly at that pet name. He wouldn’t be using that one then. ‘Uhhhh, she also suggested mesh’la or cyar’ika.’

Kahzi nodded with a small smile. ‘Well wouldn’t say that I’m beautiful any day of the week, but I wouldn’t mind being called sweetheart,’ Hunter grinned and nodded.

‘I’ll still call you mesh’la though,’ he countered. ‘Because I think you’re beautiful.’ Kahzi went to pull away from their closeness and roll her eyes but he stopped her and brought her in for another kiss, pulling her gently into his lap. ‘You are, and I’ll say it every day until you believe it, mesh’la.’ His smile only widened as she gave in and leaned into his embrace, yawning.

‘Boring you, am I?’ he asked in a teasing tone and Kahzi laughed, shaking her head. ‘You’re still a di’kut,’ she mumbled, her voice filled with fondness as she clambered off of his lap and started heading towards the cabin. He got up and followed her, getting changed into his sleeping clothes as he waited for her to use the fresher to get changed. Upon exiting, she went over to her bunk (or at least the bunk she had used most recently) and grabbed the blanket off of it before going and sitting on Hunter’s bunk with a slightly nervous look on her face.

‘No funny business,’ she said with a slightly nervous tone to her voice, though the teasing was still there and he nodded solemnly. ‘Not yet anyway. I don’t want to rush this, it’s too important to me. You’re too important to me.’ The last part came out almost as a whisper and Hunter sat down next to her, taking her hand in his and cupping her cheek with the other.

‘There isn’t any rush cyar’ika,’ he soothed, looking her in the eye make it clear that he meant it. ‘You’re far too important to me for this to be messed up.’

That seemed to be enough reassurance for Kahzi as she nodded and smiled, giving Hunter another gentle kiss. The pair then curled up on his bunk, Hunter curled around Kahzi and holding her close as the pair of them drifted off into the best sleep they’d had in days. Little did they know, Omega woke up ten minutes later to use the fresher and grinned upon seeing her buir and Kahzi curled up in bed. Her plan had worked.

————

Kahzi had always been a notoriously light sleeper, but somehow she had managed to sleep through Echo, Tech and Wrecker arriving back at the ship; it wasn’t until the bunk above the one she was sleeping in creaked that her eyes opened and she lifted her head. Through the dark she could see the dim glow of a holo pad being used on what was Echo’s bunk. He looked over at her when he sensed the movement and gave her a smile. She couldn’t help but blush and smile back, setting her head back down and allowing Hunter to pull her closer, burying his face in the back of her neck.

When she woke up again there was a dim light coming from under the door of the cockpit; needing to use the fresher anyway she got up, trying to move Hunter’s arm as gently as possible as she padded to the fresher. Deciding that she had slept enough for now, she tip toed through to the cockpit, wondering who could possibly be up at this time.

Her question was answered when she spotted Tech sat in the pilot’s chair, fiddling with the holo pad he had been holding earlier that evening. Silently, she went and sat next to her friend, watching him mess around with the device. Like with Hunter, Kahzi and Tech never felt the need to fill a silence when it wasn’t necessary. It was one of the reasons they got along so well and that she considered him to be her best friend.

‘I’m never sleeping in that bunk again.’

The humorous comment caught her off guard so much that she nearly choked on her own breath. Kahzi looked at Tech’s face, seeing a sly grin on it and huffed, whacking him playfully with the sleeve of her night shirt.

‘Slana’pir! We didn’t do anything like that!’ she scolded him, and before long the pair of them were laughing quietly. When eventually the laughter stopped Tech looked up at her, a seriousness in his expression. ‘I told you he liked you,’ he commented offhandedly, and Kahzi rolled her eyes.

‘I know you did…’ she trailed off as she glanced back at the closed door to the cockpit. ‘I just didn’t believe you.’

‘Well,’ Tech continued, sounding rather smug. ‘I might have mentioned it to a certain someone, who might have then gone on to try and… I believe the term is “set you up”.’

Not for the first time this evening, Kahzi was left baffled. ‘You did that?’ she asked, looking over at her friend. He simply shrugged and handed her the holo pad.

On the screen there was a picture, clearly taken by a local that evening. It was of the whole squad dancing together, Tech included. They looked so happy together, something that didn’t happen very often when they were in the heat of a mission. She smiled warmly at the picture, letting out a small huff of laughter at the awkward look on Tech’s face and the way that Wrecker was posed. She had been about to hand the pad back before Tech leant over and tapped the picture, zooming it in.

‘You deserve to be happy, Kahzi…’ he said with a small smile in his voice as he pointed at one part of the picture. There she was without a care in the world it seemed, but that wasn’t what caught her eye. It was Hunter… he was looking at her with such adoration on her face that it nearly brought a tear to her eyes. ‘And you deserve to have someone in your life who looks at you the way that Hunter does.’ The solemnity in his voice had her tearing up even more and the woman threw her arms around her best friend giving him a quick squeeze before letting go.

‘Thank you, Tech,’ she croaked, emotion thick in her voice. She really didn’t deserve to have such wonderful friends, but boy was she lucky that she did.

‘Oh and if I had to put up with Hunter pining after you for another rotation, I might have killed him myself out of frustration.’

The comment had Kahzi laughing out loud this time, and she rolled her eyes, sitting back in her seat as Tech went back to his project, watching the stars in the night sky, thankful for all that the day had brought her.

————

. Mando’a translations:

. Ad’ika - little one, daughter

. Buir - father

. Cyare- beloved

. Cyar’ika - sweetheart

. Mesh’la - beautiful

. Di’kut - idiot

. Slana’pir - piss off (got this one off of a different website not sure if it’s correct or real, it just worked for what I wanted to be said at the time) 😂

[proxyoddo]

The Right Approach

One-shot: Tech x gn!reader

Words: 2K

Summary: Tech hasn't slept for a few days, and you're worried about him. No one has been able to convince him to a bunk, but Hunter thinks you might be able to get through to the goggled trooper.

AN: This week has been kicking my ass, and I've not had much time to focus on Derecho. Part 4 is almost done and will come soon, but I felt bad because I haven't posted in a while. So, have this kinda cute fluff with Tech that I wrote trying to get my mind into writing.

(I am also shite at titling things 😅 )

Warnings: None, only fluff and snuggles.

It had been four days, and Tech had not slept. With the repairs needed for the console in the cockpit, he had been working endlessly to be sure that the Havoc Marauder would be at 100% working capacity before they next took off from Kamino. The rest of the Batch did what they could to help, but much of it was intricate - more than one hand would not help.

Currently you were standing outside the ship, staring up the steps ready to stomp inside and give Tech a piece of your mind. How did he think he would get you all off the ground if he ran headlong into it himself?

You heard a clunk and a curse from inside, coming from Tech. You frowned, and were about to take the first step into the Marauder when a hand firmly grasped your shoulder.

“Y/N,” came Hunter's voice, and you sighed heavily before turning your head to face him. “You know he won’t stop. Especially if you’re just going to just tell him outright ‘get your ass to bed’.”

“Well what the kriff are we supposed to do then?” you asked with a slight hiss, frustration getting the best of you.

Hunter fixed you with a sympathetic gaze, and shrugged sadly. “Eventually he’ll just pass out in there-”

“And break something while he’s at it? Hurt himself?”

“There was a 'but' in that sentence, Y/N,” Hunter said, smiling a little and giving you a push towards the steps. “You might be able to get through to him.”

You looked at him incredulously, causing him to actually chuckle.

“Tech likes having you around. He’d probably listen to you if you approach it the right way. And based on how much you also seem to care about him, I figure you’re stubborn enough to get him to a bunk,” he said, as if he were just talking about the clouds passing through the sky. You could feel heat rising up your cheeks. “And yes, before you ask, I’ve known for a bit. Heightened senses, remember?”

You cursed internally. When you had joined the squad as their combat medic, you had taken an immediate liking to Tech. And with time, it just grew. Certainly he could talk for hours, and sometimes it was difficult to keep up with his excited chatter, but he was an amazing man. Strong, insatiably curious - and even with his oftentimes hard, matter-of-fact tone - incredibly caring. You had flirted with him from time to time, sometimes not even recognizing it yourself until afterwards. But the trooper seemed to be none the wiser to your actions. Never stopped your heart from racing whenever your hands accidentally touched though, or if he gave you one of those rare Tech smiles. That must be how Hunter knew; he could literally hear the thunder of your heart when the two of you were together.

“You really think I can get through to him?” you asked quietly.

“Worth a try,” Hunter said. “Besides, the rest of the squad are also getting antsy. If I have to listen to Crosshair go on about knocking Tech out with Gonky anymore, I might have to hide the droid.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“Crosshair likes to sleep in his bunk,” Hunter replied. “At this point he’d go to whatever lengths, I would imagine.”

You laughed, and nodded to the sergeant. He waved you on before turning away, likely to head back to the others. Turning and looking into the ship, you steeled yourself before going up the steps and stopping outside the cockpit.

“Tech?” you called.

“Yes, Y/N?” came his voice, seemingly bright as if he was actually still getting a regular amount of sleep.

“How… How’s it going in there?”

Another loud clunking sound and dropping equipment had you stepping inside, looking to find Tech on the ground under the console. The plastoid that normally covered his chest and back was gone, propped up against the wall next to the console.

“It’s going fine!” Tech growled, tossing something out of the compartment he was in giving you just enough time to skirt out of the way before it clanged against the wall opposite of him.

“Hmm, sounds it…” you muttered, before squatting down. He continued on whatever he was working with while you thought for a moment. “Hey Tech-”

“Y/N, please, I am attempting to get the comm frequencies on this damnedable thing working in proper order,” he said, and you could see him turn to look at you for a moment with a reflection of his goggles. “While the Marauder still has functional comm capabilities, the extensive damage from our last encounter with the Separatists has weakened the signal strength, which poses a threat to us while in the field which as you can understand-”

“I have a question,” you interrupted. He stuttered to a halt, and there was silence for a few moments before his hands appeared at the lip of the console and he pulled himself out. The words “sleep deprivation” practically screamed at you from the features of his face.

“Yes?” He seemed intent to answer whatever it was that you were going to ask, even if he had been frustrated a moment ago. Maybe Hunter had been right, and you could get through to him.

You swallowed a little, his tired face filling you with resolve. “What happens to someone when they do not sleep for 4 or more days?”

Tech frowned a little, before going into his answer. “Typically after 3 days of no rest, a person’s urge to sleep will get worse and they will begin to experience microsleeps. Perception is also significantly impaired, and reaching 4 days without adequate rest will continue to distort it. In some, the urge to sleep will become unbearable. It can result in sleep deprivation psychosis.”

You nodded along throughout his entire explanation without saying anything. When he finished, the two of you stared at one another for a few moments of silence.

“Oh,” Tech said with quiet understanding.

“C’mon,” you said warmly, standing up and holding a hand out to him.

Tech shook his head, and you briefly considered going to find Gonky. “I understand your concern, and though it is appreciated, I just need to complete one last thing with the comms before I believe they will be properly functional,” he said. Tech began looking around before his eyes fell on his datapad behind you on one of the seats, and pointed to it. “Could you pass that to me?”

You took the datapad in your hand, but didn’t hand it to Tech. He looked at you with confusion as you began to step away.

“If you want the datapad, Tech,” you began, stepping out of the cockpit, “you’re going to need to come and get it.”

You smiled a little when you heard him getting up from the cockpit floor behind you. “Please, Y/N, I need to calibrate it.” You ignored him, continuing to the bunks before crawling up into the one you usually slept in. You sat back on the bunk, back leaning against the wall, holding the datapad up next to your head.

Tech entered the room, looking even more tired as he stared up at you. “I’m unsure what you are attempting to accomplish here other than getting on my nerves.” You just smiled in response, waving the datapad at him. With a big sigh from him, you watched as Tech pulled himself slowly up to the bunk, and then knelt in front of you between your feet.

“Give it,” he said, losing any formality. You shook your head, waving the datapad again.

In any other circumstance, Tech literally crawling into your lap with a determined expression like he currently had, would have left you breathless. But your intent to get him exactly where he was now, reaching for the datapad and face so very close to your own, helped you keep focus. When Tech’s fingers firmly grasped around the datapad, you let go and leaned forward. Your arms wrapped around his torso and your legs around his, pulling him directly into your embrace, his chin hitting your shoulder.

“Y/N?” Tech tentatively asked, a bit breathless against you.

“You need to sleep, Tech,” you whispered against his ear, arms squeezing just a little tighter as he tried to move. You felt his sharp intake of breath and he completely stilled in your arms, tensely holding himself up. “Relax.”

“I… I need to-” he began, but his sentence was broken by a soft groan as one of your hands began to run up and down his back. A soothing motion, fingertips ghosting over his side as your palm ran along his spine. Your other arm moved under his, your hand reaching up to the back of his neck and gently running through the short hair found at the base of his skull.

You leaned your head gently to the side, pressing against his. “Please, Tech,” you pleaded, and you felt him begin to relax in your arms.

“Cyar’ika...” he sighed, and his voice was thick with sleep. His resolve gone due to your ministrations, he finally let his whole body slump against you, and he turned his face into your neck. You could feel his warm breath and cool goggles against your skin and you couldn’t help the small shiver that spread through your body.

“That’s it, Tech,” you cooed, loosening the grip of your legs so he could settle more between them. In doing so he slid down your chest a little, making you glad that at some point he had decided to discard his chest plate. You heard the datapad hit the bunk’s thin mattress as Tech's arms wrapped around you, pressing his face more firmly into your chest with a deep breath.

You felt a gentle warmth spread through you as you both embraced one another. You couldn’t help but smile down at Tech, and you gently reached up to carefully slide the goggles from his face before setting them down on the bunk near the datapad. It was mere moments before you could tell Tech was asleep against you. Moving carefully, you pressed your lips against the top of his head and leaned back again.

“Comms will still be there when you get up,” you said to his sleeping form, before closing your eyes and feeling a bit drowsy yourself.

It was a while later that you woke to the sound of someone entering the Marauder. You had no idea how long you had been asleep, and you opened your eyes slowly, looking about the compartment to find Crosshair standing there. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was looking at you with a smirk. He just nodded when he saw your attention was on him, and climbed into the bunk below the one you currently occupied with Tech.

Speaking of, the usually goggled clone was still sleeping soundly against you. You smiled before gently running your fingers through his hair, feeling him sigh and snuggle more into your body.

“Hey Cross?” you called out, careful not to be too loud.

A grunt of acknowledgement was the sniper’s response.

“...what does ‘cyar’ika’ mean?” you asked after a moment’s pause. Tech had said it earlier, but you didn’t know what it was.

You were met with silence, and you were beginning to wonder if Crosshair was actually going to answer you. You resigned yourself to mystery when he finally spoke:

“It’s Mando’an. It means ‘darling,’ ‘beloved,’ or ‘sweetheart’.”

You froze. Tech had called you that? A blush creeped up your skin, and you knew if Crosshair had been looking at you he’d see just how red you were in the semi-darkness of the Marauder.

“Th-thanks,” you said back, before looking down at Tech. You didn’t think you had ever seen the trooper look as relaxed as peaceful as you did right now, and you couldn’t help but smile. Leaning down just a little, you hugged him a little tighter.

“Cyar’ika,” you soothed, and smiled more as Tech’s arms squeezed you tighter as well in response.

[aenaxes]

OMG ok for the 200 follower celebration (based on your smoking post) PLZZZ write sharing a spice blunt with cross or any batcher of your choosing I would simply die 😩💅🏻❤️

vapor trails

[crosshair & hunter x f!reader] you don't really run with the fett twins' crowd, but you find yourself at one of their parties anyway (in reference to this post lol)

warnings: college!au, recreational drug use, suggestive themes, but consent is sexy & mandatory & sober babes

w/c: 3.8k

a/n: anon, you ask for one batcher, but why not two? thank you for enabling me nonnie & @mallr4ts lol (im so sorry to all the previous requests for the event, this one has just been needling in my brain all day and i had to get it out hsdfs)

event details here! requests are open until july 4th!

You don’t know much about the Fett twins.

They’re something like campus legends even though they’re only a year your senior and at the tail end of their fourth years. But as much as you’ve heard their names slung around in weekend plans and excited chatter, you’ve never once met them, much less seen them yourself. Between idling class whispers and dining hall conversations, all you can piece together from the rumors is that: one, they’re from a big family (you’ve heard anywhere from two to twelve other brothers, yikes); and two, as much as they work hard (because the venture capital and pre-professorial tracks seem rigorous enough), they play even harder.

It helps that they apparently own one of the biggest apartments off campus, one in which you find yourself hopelessly and miserably lost. And overdressed.

Great.

It hadn’t occurred to you that your roommate, who is nowhere to be seen, had been dressing up for her girlfriend, and that most people who had half a mind would wear something comfortable that could withstand a few spilled drinks and ash. So seeing the rest of the room in rumpled tees and sweats has you and your little black dress seeking out the nearest wall as you fiddle with your questionably sweet cup of margarita mixer.

You feel like a first year, and it sucks.

But for once, with everyone too busy mingling amongst themselves over the heavy thrum of some mumble rap beat, you manage to slip by unnoticed.

Every now and then, you dart your eyes around the ever shifting landscape of faces in the dim room, looking for even the vaguest familiarity that might let you feign being tipsy and join a group for the night. But every time you try, there’s no luck.

Fuck, you haven’t even seen anyone here before.

But there might be a god watching out for you yet when the crowd shifts just enough that you catch sight of the couch, and on it, someone you suspect to be one of the twins as he greets a few girls with a disinterested nod.

Emboldened, but mostly nervous that in the crowd of bodies and red solo cups you’re still helplessly alone, you push off the wall and squeeze past huddled cliques of conversation to make for the dark couch.

By the platinum bleached hair and big-name consulting group quarter zip, Crosshair—at least you think it’s him—lounges over the couch. He isn’t the only body on the suede seats, but he keeps to himself, his head dipped low as he works one hand over a small metal canister in his other palm.

If you weren’t having luck with the other nameless faces around you, maybe the Fett twin would keep you company—at least until your roommate came back to find you (if she did). And worst case, you’d just slink back to your dorm and mope until your roommate apologized to you with your favorite overpriced smoothie bowl the day after.

Mustering every ounce of courage you have, you plant your feet by the couch and finally speak.

"Is your name actually Crosshair?" you ask.

The man on the couch pauses, his motions stilling over the small metal cylinder in his palms, and he lifts his chin just enough to flick his eyes up towards the sound of your voice.

You always thought the girls in your droning 9AM gen-ed were wildly exaggerating his hype for their own devices, squealing over his (apparently) brooding charm and sharp looks to nip at his stash for free. But for all the vague haze surrounding your perception of the twins, you never thought that they were telling the truth.

If you had been in broad daylight under the incandescent glow of your creaky lecture hall lights, you might have called him cocky, almost haughty, how he meets you with an unreadable look for having interrupted him. But in the purple LEDs and heavy haze of vape juice and shitty tequila, he’s captivating, all dark eyes and perfectly lit skin, marked only by the needle-thin design tattooed over the right side of his face and a worn wooden toothpick bitten between his teeth.

You swallow down the dry lump in your throat when you catch him flick his eyes from your face, down the short length of your dress, and back up again.

"Smoke with me; maybe you'll find out," he drawls, toothpick bobbing as he speaks. He twists the cylinder once and offers you a wry smirk. And when you stay, speechless but there all the same, Crosshair scoots to the side and pats the narrow space between him and the couch arm, inviting you close.

"I've never smoked before," you admit a bit shyly as you drop down beside him. Your dress hikes up your thigh, and you shiver when your skin presses up against the soft denim of his jeans.

"Not even cigs?"

You shake your head. And you tell yourself that when he leans close and brushes his shoulder up against your arm, that he’s only doing it because someone’s boosted the bass, and you can’t hear him over the reverb.

"Well, good thing I'm here, yeah?"

He gives the metal canister a final twist and sets it down on the coffee table before you. Swapping the canister for a small brown sleeve, you watch in a daze as he pulls a semi-transparent leaflet from the folder and tears a strip of cardstock straight from its flap. He has pianist fingers, you think wistfully, neatly kept nails and slender grace, and you wonder if he’ll entertain you if you ask to compare your hand to his.

“What’s your name?”

You scrabble back to the present at the sound of his voice. “Uh, y/n,” you offer.

“Well, y/n,” he says with a soft laugh, having caught on to your daydreaming. “Step one, you fold your filter.”

You nod along absently as Crosshair artfully crimps the thick paper into a neat roll. As if there isn’t thirty-some odd people crammed into his apartment, he quietly takes you step by step, offering you the filter, the paper, then the contents of the canister (a grinder, he explains) like it’s a game of show and tell. But with every piece he places into your hands, you gravitate closer, closer, until you’re flush against his arm and practically hanging over his side to watch as he gently taps a line of bud over the paper.

“Here, let me give you a better look,” Crosshair says.

You expect him to bring the neat line of bud to you, but when nothing comes, you look up and find him waiting for you, one arm open in invitation as the other pats once on the dark denim of his thigh.

“Uh—”

“Sit,” he says as if you haven’t just met him fifteen minutes ago. “Front row seats if you want ‘em.”

On one hand, you barely know Crosshair outside of the rumors you hear on campus. On the other hand, he’s a genuinely pleasant person, careful to accommodate for your boundaries and offering a snide playfulness that’s banished your nerves from earlier in the night.

He’s also really fucking hot.

“Okay,” you murmur, and you let him wrap his arm around your waist and tug you onto his lap. And he’s right. Perched over his thighs, you see with perfect clarity (and without the strain in your neck) as he gently folds the paper over the mound of bud and carefully twists. It’s the prettiest joint you’ve ever seen—though it might be because it’s the only one you’ve seen.

"Final touch," Crosshair's voice rumbles over your back, shooting straight into your core as he lifts the paper's vellum edge to your lips. “Lick it for me.”

Since you sat down with him, you’ve only been the passenger, nodding along as Crosshair’s long, nimble fingers creased over filter paper and patiently pointed out things like the stray pistils in his baggie and the keef gathered at the bottom of his grinder for if you really want to get fucked up. And even though you aren’t doing much (because licking paper doesn’t really seem too crazy), it’s a step forward from the comfortable rhythm that had settled between you, and you twist around in his lap to shoot him an uncertain glance.

“Just,” Crosshair flicks his tongue over his lower lip, flashing a brief glimpse of a ball piercing towards your wide eyes. And if you weren’t so flustered, you might have recognized the coy playfulness in his gaze. “Give it a lick, right over the edge.”

“I—uh, what if I—” you stammer.

“You’re not gonna mess this up, darling,” Crosshair chuckles. If his hand squeezing brief over your waist wasn’t enough to bring heat searing over the tops of your ears, his next words, crooned low and breathy into your ear, certainly do. “You’re a smart girl. You can do it.”

"My brother giving you trouble?"

Another voice cuts through the din of the party, sparing you your stammering nerves as you whip your head up in its general direction. You’re greeted with the sight of his brother, peering down on you as he takes a sip from his cup.

“You’re such a killjoy,” Crosshair mutters, drawing his arm tighter around your waist as he jabs the half-rolled joint to where Hunter sprawls down onto the couch beside him. “No, I’m not being a creep. I’m teaching our pretty underclassman here how to roll.”

Oh.

Heat rushes over your cheeks, and you can’t decide whether you want to shrink into yourself or bask in it and beg for more.

He called you pretty.

“With her in your lap,” Hunter snorts into his cup.

“It was your idea to invite your entire fucking rugby team. Where else would we do it?”

“I’m so sorry he’s like this,” Hunter laughs, tilting his head and looking up at you through his (unfairly) long lashes. Where you thought Crosshair’s tattoo was bold, Hunter’s practically blows him out of the water, a well-worn swath of ink on the left half of his face, curving into neatly stylized teeth right at the edge of his lips. “I’m Hunter.”

Huh, maybe you do have a thing for tattoos.

“Y/n,” you squeak. “It’s, um—it’s nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he says as he offers you an easy smile. “Has my baby brother been treating you right?”

“God, two fucking minutes,” Crosshair snaps. You hear the embarrassment seeping from the vitriol, and it strikes you like a shot to the head that he’s trying to play cool in front of you. “I come out two minutes after you and—”

“We’re fraternal, and I got all the oxygen in the womb. Explains why he has awful people skills,” Hunter fake-whispers loud enough for Crosshair to hear, and you giggle as the other man groans from behind you.

“No, he’s been really nice,” you say softly once you realize that you’ve been laughing a little too loud. “He’s teaching me about weed.” It sounds juvenile when you say it, awkward and clumsy on your tongue. It’s a dead giveaway that has Hunter’s smile mellowing into something soft.

“Your first time?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, Cross here’s high as shit at least four hours every day. Says it helps him do the math. I hate to say it, but you’re in good hands.”

“You try running a nonlinear regression sober,” Crosshair snorts. “Anyways, we were just finishing up this joint before you decided to kill the vibe.”

Crosshair lifts the half-rolled joint back up to your chin, and this time, he leans forward and presses his chest close against your back as the playful snark leaves his tone, in its wake, something patient and calm as his voice rumbles by your ear.

“You gonna help me finish the job, sweet girl?”

You surprise yourself when the initial trepidation vanishes as you tip your chin down and stick out your tongue. Maybe you’re showboating now that you have an audience, feeling Hunter’s dark eyes on your lips when you touch the tip of your tongue out over the edge.

Whether it’s your lip gloss or the fine crumbs of bud stuck to the roll paper that fills your mouth with something earthy and sweet, you can’t say. All you know is they’re both following you with that intense intent, the bass and blend of voices faded out around you; just you in Crosshair’s lap and Hunter pretending to care about the drink in his hand as you lift your tongue off the far corner of the paper and close your lips.

“Good job,” Hunter muses, and you’re pretty certain he’s not talking about the joint when you feel his gaze boring into you alone.

The smell of smoke pulls you out of Hunter’s gravity, and you look back in front of you to see Crosshair snap a scuffed metal lighter shut and toss it onto the coffee table. He brings the joint back down in front of you, blowing a neat stream of whitish gray smoke past your ear.

“You know how to pull?” Crosshair asks, and his chin brushes over your bare shoulder as he speaks. He’s so close. You can smell the burn, acrid and sour, but it doesn’t matter that it doesn’t smell like some bubblegum vape when you feel his breaths curling over your skin. You just want more.

Mutely, you shake your head.

“Mm, you know how to shotgun?” Hunter offers, and you hear Crosshair huff laugher from behind you. “Might be easier for your first try.”

You shake your head again.

“It’s,” Hunter pauses, and his brows knit close as he thinks for a moment. “It’s kind of like a kiss. But not really. I take a hit and you catch my smoke. That sound okay?”

You don’t think it matters that someone’s hit shuffle on the playlist, filling the room with a hard electronic beat that might have otherwise drowned out all sound. All you hear is your heart pounding in your ears as you nod and watch Hunter lift the filter to his lips and inhale deep, then pass the joint back to Crosshair.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, white trails of smoke curling over his upper lip as he lifts one hand to cup over the base of your neck.

“Open,” Crosshair whispers.

Wordlessly, you obey. Your lips part just as Hunter pulls close, so close you feel the heat of his skin spreading warm over your cheeks, and blows a soft stream of bitter smoke into your mouth. It can’t be more than a few seconds, but all the while, you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his.

“Breathe in, deep,” you hear Crosshair instruct as he begins to rub one thumb over the curve of your hip.

The smoke is thick, sluicing down your throat and filling your lungs like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s not bad, just new, and pressed between the twins over the couch, you think it just might have been worth being ditched by your roommate earlier in the night. But your lungs ache, and you slowly exhale, watching as your vision fogs with a loose cloud of smoke until your chest feels clear again.

“And you didn’t even cough,” Hunter smiles. His calloused fingertips follow the slope of your neck, lingering one moment more before he pulls away. And you aren’t sure if the low buzzing in your fingertips is the weed or their combined warmth as Hunter rubs over your knee and Crosshair leans his head against your neck. “Good girl.”

“Wanna do it again,” you whisper as the buzz begins to crawl up your neck, fizzling around your temples as you lean your cheek over where Crosshair nuzzles into your shoulder.

“With him or me?” Crosshair murmurs, his lips brushing over your skin.

“You,” you say dreamily, and Hunter laughs, a sound that suddenly seems so far away as you tip your head and press close against Crosshair’s silver hair.

Crosshair leans into your touch, pressing his cheek up against your neck one last time before he’s lifting his head and bringing the joint to his lips. You hear the hiss of his inhale, smoke curling up through the narrow body of the joint as the charred end glows warm beside you.

And instead of Hunter’s approach, level with you, Crosshair looms above you, meeting your wide eyes with something of a fond smile. Dragging his hand up your chest, he follows the line of your neck and holds snug over your chin. He squeezes softly, and your jaw falls slack, lips parted in a soft ‘o’ as he dips low. He's closer than Hunter as you feel his mouth just brush over yours and breathe smoke over your tongue.

This time, it’s easier.

You swallow down the smoke and hold, just a beat longer than before. But both Crosshair and Hunter notice as your lips stay parted, and they share a soft laugh that has you exhaling smoke and pride all at once when you finally relax your diaphragm and breathe out.

“Fast learner,” Crosshair muses, nosing up under your jaw as you sink back against his chest.

You mumble incoherently, chasing his touch as the high creeps heavy and warm from your chest to your collar and settles at the back of your throat. It anchors you, molding you up against Crosshair who feels nothing short of perfect as he circles his arms loose over your waist.

You turn your head to thank Hunter when you distantly register him pressing a cool cup into your hand (water, you think you hear him say), but the words slip back down into your throat, your eyelids suddenly unbearably heavy and coarse over your blurry vision.

“You wanna lay down?” Hunter offers, and his voice comes to you like you’re underwater, warped and bubbling past the din of the party around you.

You're pretty sure you nod.

For a few moments, you catch traces of an unintelligible exchange between the twins, only aware of the rumble of Crosshair’s voice at your back, and then you’re being lifted up off the couch, the music and raucous laughter fading behind you.

A door opens, squeaking half-shut, and you wince as a light clicks on beside you. Whoever was carrying you sets you down on something soft and cool, and you sway as the light dims and you settle into your seat.

You’re on a bed, you think.

Crosshair’s, judging by the shock of light hair that you can make out through your lashes. He helps you into a worn tee that reaches past the short hem of your dress, and you wiggle into it with a soft whine, holding it tight.

But where you expect a familiar weight to dip down next to you and pull you close, your eyes fly open when you see his figure turn away from you and towards the neon lights of the party outside.

“You aren’t staying?” It's the most coherent you've been through your first high.

“Not tonight,” Crosshair says softly. He turns back towards you and reaches up to fix the strap of your dress as you sit on his bed. “Baby’s first tokes got you all dopey. Right now, what you need is this,” and he presses a plastic bottle of vitamin water he’s seemingly produced out of nowhere into your palm. “This,” he adds, pressing your phone into your other hand. “And a good night’s sleep.”

“And what if I say I need you, too?” you pout.

Some part of you—the conscious part locked away in the back of your skull—bangs up against the hazy high at the crown of your head because when you’re good and sober and when Crosshair inevitably turns you down, you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for the next semester.

But he breaks into a smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes before he leans down to press his lips to your forehead. It’s just a split-second of warm, chapstick-soft lips on your skin, but it floods you with an indescribable good from the top of your head all the way down to your toes.

And as high as you are right now, you have a hell of a hunch that the flutter in your chest is going to stay, even when the room stops wobbling around you.

“When you’re all sobered up in the morning, we’ll make you breakfast, and we’ll figure it out from there,” Crosshair says after he’s pulled back, reaching up to smooth his palm over your hair. “Sound like a plan?”

You nod, probably with a little too much enthusiasm, but you’re rewarded with another low chuckle that’s practically music to your ears. His hand gentle and firm over your shoulder, Crosshair guides you down onto the bed and pulls the covers up to your chin.

“Now text your roomie so she doesn’t call the cops on us, get some sleep, and drink all of that, okay?”

“Okay,” you respond.

“Good girl.”

And when the lights click out, you curl into Crosshair’s pillow, breathing in cold, fresh notes of his cologne, and then you’re asleep.

You climb out of bed the next morning, your minidress rumpled under a long shirt. It's not like a hangover, no, you just find yourself a bit lightheaded and throat parched, and the disorientation makes your head spin as you’re greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and something savory—

Your roommate doesn’t wake up earlier than you, and she can’t cook for shit. And why were your sheets grey? Whose shirt were you—

Oh.

Fuck.

You practically burst out of Crosshair’s bedroom, and you’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you hadn’t expected to see Hunter sipping mildly on a mug of coffee while Crosshair pushes something around in a pan over their kitchen range.

“Mornin,’” Hunter offers you a small wave, and reaches for a third mug on the countertop. “Wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee so we just made it black.”

“What happened last night?” you gasp. If you weren’t so panicked, you’re certain the sight of them sporting nothing but grey sweats would have been your only concern, but you’ve just woken up with foggy memories and the slimy dread of anxiety that follows a blackout night.

“Easy, easy,” Crosshair assures you as he steps away from the stovetop. “Nothing happened after we smoked. You took, like, two hits, and you were so hazy you couldn’t remember your dorm number, so we put you to bed, and I slept out in the living room. Fetts are wild but we’re not scumbags, promise.”

And judging from the throw blanket sliding off the edge of the couch cushions, you’re fairly certain you can believe him. Relief floods your chest.

“Oh thank God,” you sigh, and your shoulders sag as the weight of panic sloughs off your back.

They both laugh softly, the sudden tension lifting from the bright morning light, and you can’t help but join in. And when that rosy relief gives way to silence again, it’s Crosshair who speaks next.

“So, you staying for breakfast?”

“Can I borrow some actual clothes first?”

“Done deal.”

[blazesurrender]

poly bad batch (including echo) 5 sentance fic?? idk if requests are open though. ‘perfect’

Requests are open! I love this prompt. It's more than 5 sentences, I hope that's okay. It got a lil long so I put it under a cut. PG-13 for implied activities.

Echo spends a lot of time watching his new squad before attempting to converse with them. Despite his gruff appearance and general tendency toward explosions, he's the first to warm up to Echo enough to invite him for team bonding. Afterward, Wrecker envelops him in a perfect embrace unlike any Echo has ever felt.

Thick, warm muscles cushion him everywhere. When Echo briefly tries to pull his cybernetic limbs away for Wrecker's comfort, he receives a mildly annoyed grunt, and finds himself suddenly gently pinned to the thin mattress. "You're not leaving until you've rested," Wrecker insists, before carefully settling his weight along Echo's side.

That's how the rest of the Batch finds them when they return to the Marauder thirty minutes later- Echo contemplatively following the lines of Wrecker's scars with his eyes, and hovering fingertips over the paths. Crosshair simply grunts and takes to his own bunk, but Hunter flashes a hint of a grin in their direction before pulling Tech off to his own bunk.

The following morning, Echo realizes he's been moved to the floor, along with the entirety of the bunks' bedding. Wrecker still sleeps curled protectively against his back. Tech has nestled himself against Wrecker's back, face burrowed in the space between his neck and shoulder. Hunter sprawls loosely over the three of them, snoring softly, while Crosshair sleeps a hair's breadth away from Echo.

Close enough to touch.

[karasu-hieis-dragon]

Closer - Tech!Reader Fic

                                                    Closer

Summary: THIS IS 18+ Please KEEP SCROLLING IF YOU ARE UNDER 18.

EXPLICIT.

You are a medic who was hired to take care of Clone Force 99 also known as The Bad Batch. You knew it was going to be an adventure but what you didn't know was that you would fall in love and end up in a relationship with the teams Engineer, Tech. You end up helping on a mission that ignites a feeling in Tech that he has never felt before when a flirtatious Senator gets too close to you. Smut ensues.

This could be seen as dub/con so I want to be very clear if you are triggered by aggressive men please don't read this. The premise of this fic is sweet, gentle Tech goes primal because he is jealous and he doesn't know how to handle it.

This is my first time writing smut.

Like, this took a lot for me to do.

Should I feel ashamed?

Ah screw it just enjoy the show.

CLOSER

Jealousy wasn’t a feeling Tech ever felt, it wasn’t an emotion that was ever necessary. Not until this very moment and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. You were a medic that was brought on to assist with the special ops clone team, it has been an adventure to say the least, but Tech wouldn’t have expected anything less, it was normal life for Clone Force 99. Now, what he didn’t expect was to fall in love with you and he absolutely never thought you would fall in love with him. Yet, here you both are, on a special ops mission that Tech felt you never should have been asked to be involved in. It was a special dinner party hosted by a Separatist Senator who had sensitive intel that the Republic needed, and the Bad Batch were brought in to retrieve it. Hunter assured Tech you would remain safe by his side and you, always head strong and caring, wanted to help. You had promised him you would stay safe; besides, you had been trained by the best for the last year and if trouble started you would be prepared.

Yet, it was Tech who wasn’t prepared, for the first time in his life, he didn’t know how to handle a situation. Tech and Crosshair were posted on a hill keeping watch through their sniper scopes and listening through the comms, ready to take out anyone who posed a threat. The evening was going smoothly so far that was until a drunk, handsy Senator decided to start flirting with you. He had zero care that Hunter, who was supposed to be your husband, was standing right there. Hunter, not wanting to blow the mission tried to keep his cool trusting you would know how to handle the situation and you did. You being the ever so calm one decided to play right into it. The Senator then took it a step too far by wrapping his arm around your waist and pulled you in close.

Crosshair could feel Tech tense up, he looked over and his finger was on the trigger, hand trembling. He reached over patting Tech’s shoulder knowing damn well he had that scope trained on the Senators head. “Trust her” Crosshair whispered. Tech took a deep breath, taking his finger off the trigger and it was at that moment you pushed away the Senator playfully saying “Now, now Senator, my husband is right here” flashing him a toothy smile. The Senator let out a hearty laugh “My apologies my hands have a mind of their own when a gorgeous woman is around” slapping Hunter on the back as he walked away yelling “You’re a lucky man!”.

The rest of the evening went without a hitch, you and Hunter were able to slip away, steal the data chip with the damning intel and slip out of the party unnoticed. All in all it was a perfect mission and you felt good about how you and Hunter handled everything, you couldn’t wait to get back to the Marauder to see Tech and to celebrate. When you and Hunter walked into the ship Crosshair, Wrecker and Echo were waiting with smiles and cheers.

But no Tech. Your smile dropped.

Hunter immediately felt the tension looking at Crosshair then to you. Crosshair motioned his head towards their rooms. “You may want to go talk to him.”

When you reached the door to his room your heart was pounding out of your chest. You weren’t sure what was actually wrong, and you were nervous to find out. You knock with shaky hands and a nervous voice which wasn’t like you but not knowing what the issue was had you on edge.3.

“Tech, it’s me.”

No answer.

“Please talk to me.”

Still no answer.

“I’m not going anywhere until you open this door.”

Silence.

Taking a deep breath, you raise your voice this time.

“TECH, I SWEAR TO THE MAKER IF YOU DON’T OPEN THIS DOOR I AM GOING TO HAVE WRECKER BREAK IT DOWN!”

You heard him sigh loudly then heavy footsteps.

The door swooshed open and as you stepped in you were ready to start yelling, your fists were balled up as you were fighting back tears. Tech was standing there staring at you with a look in his eyes that you couldn’t read and it sent chills down your spine. You went to open your mouth, but you never got the chance to get any words out because he was on you, gripping your neck, slamming you against the wall. Tech looked down at you, breathing heavy, pupils shot wide, he looked feral. Suddenly the hand that was holding your hip came up to grip your hair as his lips came crashing down on yours. The kiss was hungry, possessive and completely out of character for Tech and then it hit you.

He was jealous.

He was jealous of what happened on the mission with the Senator.

You should have been mad. You should have pushed him away. You should have fought back. How dare he not trust you!

But you were too busy loving this new primal side.

The heat between your legs proved it.

You wanted more, you wanted him to be possessive if this was the outcome. Yes, it was selfish but having him this feral was intoxicating. Tech let go of your neck and hair bringing his hands down to your ass, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. Thankfully, he had stripped his armor off before you had shown up, so he was only in his blacks. You were sure he could feel the wetness between your legs through his pants especially since you were just in a dress and that was currently hiked up past your hips. He pushed you harder into the wall, his fingers dug into your ass cheeks, grinding his hard dick against your soaked panties.

He let out a moan into your mouth before he tore his lips away, bringing them to your ear, whispering in the most guttural low growl you have ever heard come out of his mouth.

“You’re. Mine.”

Then he bit into your neck, marking what was his, licking at the fresh wound, you smelled what you were sure was blood as he lapped it up. You dug your nails into his shoulders, throwing your head back with a yelp.

He pushed you harder against the wall, his hands coming up to the hem of your thin panties ripping them off you. You gasped at the sheer strength he was exuding; he was panting feverishly. He kept you pinned to the wall with his chest as he moved his hands to his pants to quickly yank them down just enough for his throbbing cock to be set free. Tech looked you in the eyes, there was a pleading behind the animalistic desire as we whispered.

“Tell me you’re mine.”  

You could barely speak, there was a lump in your throat, your mouth was dry and all you wanted was for him to claim you against this damn wall. But he had other plans. He brought his hand up to your neck again, he didn’t squeeze but he was letting you know he wanted you to say it, his beautiful hazel eyes still locked on yours.

“I asked you to say something Mesh’la.”

“I – I’m, I’m yours T-Tech” You let out breathlessly.

That elicited a wicked grin to form across his lips, then he leaned forward and whispered in your ear.

“That’s right cyar'ika, you are mine and no one else. Now, tell me, did you like it when that filthy, unworthy Senator was flirting with you? When he dared touch what is mine”

Tech’s voice was dripping with venom and lust and it was the sexiest thing you have ever heard.

He took his free hand and started stroking his dick, bringing it up to your dripping slit. You tried to push your hips down, to at least feel it against your clit but he was having no part of that. He was in control. He was punishing you. He tsked your attempt with a click of his tongue “My love, do you really think I am going to allow you any pleasure until I say?” Your mind was reeling, you couldn’t believe this was the same sweet, gentle Tech who makes love to you so tenderly and kisses you so lovingly. You wanted to answer him but it was difficult to even think clear. He was holding you up against the wall like you weighed nothing, the sheer strength was making you weak. He moved the head of his dick to your entrance but not before lightly rubbing it against your clit.

It snapped you out of your stupor.

“I won’t you ask again.” He was more stern this time.    

You forced yourself to find your voice weakly whispering. “No, I - uh - I hated it Tech b-but w-we were on a mi-on a mission.”

He looked at you in the eyes again “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You Tech, only you! Please, I need you inside me, I need you to mark me as yours, please.” You cried out, begging him to finally fuck you.

The look in is eyes changed, you saw something in him snap and then without warning he was slamming his hard cock into your dripping cunt. You screamed his name as he buried himself inside you, he gave you a moment to adjust to his thick member splitting you open but he only allowed a moment then he was wrapping his hand around your neck again as he pulled almost all the way out only to slam back into you again, this time setting an unrelenting pace. With each hard thrust he breathlessly chanted “You. Are. Mine. Mesh’la.”

It was music to your ears.

You start to feel the familiar twisted heat building in your stomach, your walls clenching around him, you were close and he knew it. Tech slowed to a stop, tightening the grip he had around your neck, you closed your eyes trying to keep the tears from falling.

“Look at me cyar'ika” He coos. You opened your eyes knowing he wouldn’t continue unless you did. The tears starting to gather in the corners of your eyes. He leaned in and kissed them away.

“I love you, mesh’la but you don’t get to cum until I tell you.”

Before you realize what is going on, he has pulled out of you and tossed you onto his bed. Tech removes his blacks in one swift motion tossing them across the room then he starts working on your dress, ripping the silky fabric into two. “As beautiful as you looked in this I don’t want anything on you that was touched by that disgusting Senator” He yanked it out from under you throwing it as far away from your body as he could. Looking down at you completely wrecked he thought you were the most beautiful creature he has ever seen. He did this to you, sweet, shy Tech who couldn’t even look you in the eyes the first few months you joined them has completely destroyed you and he wasn’t even finished with you yet. You should have realized one of these days this would come out of him, he was a clone, he was made with this warrior DNA.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Tech roughly pushing your legs open and licking a slow and deliberate lick up your slit. You gasped at the sudden sensation, hands flying to his hair, urging him closer.

“Ah, ah, ah, use your words mesh’la”

Bastard

“Maker, Tech, please, I need to cum, please!” You scream, you couldn’t care less that the rest of the guys could hear and I doubt Tech cared either. “Pl-Please, Maker please Tech, let me cum.”

“Good girl, now was that so hard?” He says with a muffled growl. Tech doesn’t give you a chance to respond pushing two fingers into your aching cunt and latches onto your clit with his lips. You scream out his name, clawing at his arms, it doesn’t take much before you are clenching around his fingers crying out his name as you cum so hard you are seeing white. You’re try to buck your hips up against his face. You’re trying to pull away. You’re clawing at his arms. Your screams can’t escape your throat. You are a mess. The efforts are futile though, he is holding you down with his free hand, making you ride your orgasm out on his fingers and tongue. It’s too much and not enough all at once and all you knew is that you wanted him in you.

As if reading your mind and apparently taking pity on you he kisses his way up your body, landing on your lips letting you taste yourself. This kiss was different though, it was gentle and sweet, the usual Tech kiss, it was home. He pushed into you slowly, calculated and it took your breath away. He pulled his face back bringing his hand to cup your face.

“I love you, cyra’ika”

You let out a breathy “I love you too, Tech”

He started moving into you, setting a gentle pace, his eyes never left yours, whispering sweet words, telling you how beautiful you, how good you are for him, how much he loves you. This is the Tech you know, the Tech you are familiar with and the Tech you prefer. Making love to this man, this special Clone is unlike anything you have ever experienced, and you wouldn’t change a thing about him. Tech started to move faster, harder but he never stopped looking in your eyes, he could feel you were getting close again. He reached down to where the two of you met and gently started rubbing your clit.

“Cum again for me my love, I need to feel you soak my dick.”

That’s all it took, you came hard again, you didn’t have the voice to scream his name you just dug your nails into his back as you rode it out.

“Thank you, mesh’la , you are so beautiful when you cum all over my hard cock.” His voice was strained, you could tell he was struggling to keep his control.

“Pl-please cum for me, T-Tech, I need you to cum in me, mark me as yours.”

That’s all Tech needed to hear, he rested his forehead against yours and started thrusting hard into you, incoherent whispers escaping his lips. It didn’t take very long before he was growling your name, shooting his hot cum inside you, coating your tight walls. He lowered his lips to yours and whispered how much he loved you. Softly kissing you between each gentle word he breathed out. You both stayed that way until he was finally soft and your breathing had returned to normal. He gave you one final kiss before pulling out of you and grabbing a towel to clean you up. He kept telling you how proud he was of you for how you handled yourself on the mission as he cleaned you up, reminding you how much he trusted you. He laid down next to you, pulling you close to him.

“I am so sorry I reacted the way I did but when he touched you something in me snapped.”

“I understand, Tech, I really do, if another woman did that to you I can’t say I wouldn’t have reacted the same.”

“I trust you, I hope you know that?”

“I know you do, Tech”

He paused taking a deep breath, you could feel him tense up. “Did I did I hurt you, mesh’la?” He pulls you in tighter to him and your heart broke, you could tell he was ashamed.

“No, my love, I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it but let’s not make the jealousy a habit. You can still be possessive here but out in public I want you to trust me to make the right decisions. I love you and I will never do anything to betray that.”

Then you both were rattled by a hearty banging on the door making you both jump. “ARE YOU TWO DONE MAKING UP IN THERE?!” Followed by Wrecker absolutely losing his shit laughing, followed by Hunter yelling at him to leave us alone, followed by Crosshair threatening to shoot Wrecker from ten clicks away.

You both smiled at each other and laughed, these guys were your life and you wouldn’t change a damn thing.

[kaijusplotch]

Ok! Tech and Crosshair done! Crosshair is the only one who can pass as human without trying....only until someone touches him x3

Here are my HCs for monster au. ^^ I'll draw Echo/Fives and Omega next

Hunter - Werewolf/Wolf-man. Heightened senses of smell, hearing, and taste. Increased speed and endurance. Able to track and hunt for hours without tiring. Claws, fangs, slight shifting capabilities; only ever human/humanoid-wolf never wolf. Can only eat raw meat.

Crosshair - Vampire. Increased eyesight capabilities. Slow metabolism, slow heartbeat. Cold body temperature. Able to go into alert torpor state while in a sniper nest; able to still for hours or days at a time. Needs to feed on human blood. Sensitive to bright daylight/lights. Can burn easily if not protected by armor in high UV environments. Must stay in control of himself to keep from draining even willing donors of blood. Second strongest sense of smell after Hunter. Unable to shift at all. Fangs and small claws.

Wrecker - Minotaur. Inhumanly strong. Has small horns that he keeps filed down (could grow up to three feet each if he let them slightly curled forward). Ears are like a bull. Has heavy fur/hair along the back, chest and hips. Can have a very short temper. Insatiable appetite. As long as he has some kind of meat in his diet he’s okay. If without fresh meat (cooked or otherwise), he will begin to lose himself and will hunt and eat any closest human. When well fed, he is incredibly gentle and easy to get along with. Has a very thick skull. Can and will headbut droids.

Tech - Fae/Elf. Unnatural intelligence. Still looks human with glamour, but sets people off as ‘other’. Has touch-telepathy and slight touch-based technopathy. Is good at using his words and deals to his advantage. Can be a Bane or a Boon. Cold iron will shatter his glamour. Is unnaturally thin and tall, very wiry. Long pointed ears and unnaturally brightly colored eyes. Cannot eat any meat or animal. Very sharp teeth.

[clonewarslover55]

Jungle Moved  Chapter one(1/7)

Predator and CloneWars Crossover

Chapter two   Chapter three   Chapter four   Chapter five  Chapter six   Chapter seven

Go check out my summary and notes before reading please! 

Based off of this wonderful art by @scuttlebuttin  

Notes: I hope you all enjoy it!! There’s no gore or Predator in this chapter. 

Warnings: Blood, gore, death, alien dude, language, tobacco use, mentions of death, nasty gory shit that I go into detail about, violence, characters being assholes, fight scenes that are probably poorly written, jungle stuff, suspension, arguments, weapons, alien technology 

*Outside of the border of Guatemala, 1987* 

The helicopter landed gently at the base, the rescue team inside happy to finally be back on land. Wrecker jumped out first, his bag slung over his shoulder. Crosshair, Tech, and Hunter were close behind. Fives hopped out next, happy to finally stretch his legs. Wolffe sat in the helicopter for a moment, a smirk crossing his lips in excitement with this next mission. 

Nothing was better to him and his boys then a good mission. Wolffe got out of the helicopter last, grabbing his bag and hopping into one of the jeeps like his men did. The jeeps drove them through the swampy base, they took Wolffe’s men to the barracks and Wolffe to the general to discuss the mission. 

Wolffe hopped out of the jeep in front of the small cabin, his old friend quick to meet him. “Lookin’ good Wolffe.” The general smiled and grasped his hand, “It’s been a long time, general.” Wolffe smirked. The general nodded and cocked his head to the side, instructing him to follow. 

It was important then. If it wasn’t, the general wouldn’t be rushing him slightly. Wolffe was very observant, even with one eye. He had to be, that’s how he had survived this long. That’s how his team had become the best. Wolffe followed the older man into the cabin where he’d be debriefed on what exactly he was getting his men into. 

*A few minutes later* 

“Eighteen(18) hours ago we lost a small squad that was escorting a foregian cabinet minister.” The general pointed to a big circled red dot on the map, “We think they’re somewhere around here.” Wolffe snorted and rolled his good eye, “Does this team of yours always travel on the wrong side of the border?” 

The general gave the gruff voiced man a cold look, “They strayed off course in the jungle. We believe the Guerrillas have them in their custody.” Wolffe crossed his muscular arms, his black short sleeve shirt showing some of his wolf tattoo that rested on his shoulder. “Why do you need us? Why can’t you just use-” 

A very familiar voice spoke up behind him, “Because some damn fool said you were the best.” Wolffe scowled and turned his head to the side, eyeing his old friend with his good eye. Gree stood up, a smirk on the red head's face. 

“Gree you son of a bitch!!” Wolffe smiled and locked hands with the man, engaging in an arm lock. Gree could only grin. He caught up with his old friend and brother in arms before moving back to the table where the map is. 

“So what do we have to do?” He cocked a black eyebrow as he glanced back at the maps. The general and Gree quickly explained why they needed the best of the best. Wolffe listened to Gree’s compliments as he tried to woo him into accepting the mission. Luckily for Gree, Wolffe has a big ego. “Go on.” The one eyed man smirked willing to listen to the plan.

“Simple set up. One day operation.” Gree spoke quickly, “We find their trail with a chopper. Run em’ down, grab those hostages and then head back across the border before anyone even knows we were there.” Wolffe scowled and looked at Gree, “What do you mean…….We?” Gree smirked, “I’m going in with you.” 

Wolffe looked at the general with a pissed off look, “General. My team always works alone, you know that.” He nearly spat the words. The general didn’t seem to give a rats ass, “We all have our orders Wolffe. Once you reach your objective Gree will evaluate the situation and take charge.”

Wolffe did not like this at all. He sneered at Gree, wanting to knock the smirk off the man's face.

*Early next morning* 

Wolffe and his men sat in the helicopter along with Gree, loud upbeat music playing in the background. Everyone was ready to go, their faces painted in camouflage. They all checked their weapons and paint, anxiously waiting. 

All of their face paint was different, but each pattern would blend in with the jungle. Wrecker had simple dark green and light diagonal lines across his face and under his eyes. Crosshair just had a few straight thin greenish brown lines going vertically down his narrow face and neck. Tech only had his cheeks colored with green and a few stripes above his eyebrows. Fives had two thick dark green stripes on each cheek, reaching from his jawline to under his eyes. The one on the left actually crossed over his eye and onto his forehead, stopping at his hairline.

 Wolffe had multiple thick dark green lines on his face, one traced his left cheek bone and one went from the top of his nose down the right side of his face. Another line ran from his hairline, over his eye patch and to the corner of his jaw, while the last one covered his chin. Hunter had multiple dark and light green half circles on his face. One eye was completely covered with nearly a whole circle mixed with dark and light green, while the other was only halfway covered. Two dark green lines traced his cheek bones, connecting across the bridge of his nose which was painted light green. He had two half circles one either side of his mouth, connecting at his chin in a light green. 

Hunter was very pretentious with his face paint. Wolffe was as well, he even put some diagonal lines along his bare arms and biceps. Gree’s paint mostly covered his face like Hunter’s but his was a different cameo like pattern, similar to their army pants. 

Wrecker chewed some chewing tobacco, checking his weapons over as he did so. Hunter painted his face slowly, making sure his hair and bandana were perfect as he did so in the mirror. Hunter ignored Wrecker’s random shouts, too focused on his paint to give a fuck. 

 Crosshair finished checking his rifle and looked at Fives, both men suddenly smirking at one another. Fives grabbed a face paint marker and tossed it at Tech, who was reading something. Tech caught the marker without looking up, a smirk crossing his face. Tech looked up at his two teammates, his glasses reflecting the red light of the helicopter. They couldn’t help but grin back. 

Gree sat beside Wolffe, looking over the map with him. “Where’s our backup?” Gree chuckled, “No such thing!” He grinned, but then got serious. “Once we cross that border…..We’re on our own.” Wolffe snorted, adjusting his eye patch. “This gets better by the minute.” 

Wrecker held out the bag of chewing tobacco to Fives, who slapped it away. “Get that stinking shit out of my face!! Wrecker laughed and tried to offer some to Hunter, who just ignored him. “Come on guys!!” He chewed some more, “This stuff will make you a sexual tyrannosaurus! Like me!!” He held up the bag that had a picture of a T-Rex holding two guns and shooting them into the air with the words, “Sexual Tyrannosaurus!” Under it. 

Gree raised an eyebrow at Wrecker, who spit onto his boot. It was clear no one enjoyed his presence there. “That’s a real nasty habit you got there son.” Wrecker couldn’t help but smirk. 

A few minutes later an alarm blared, causing all the men to look up and prepare themselves for rappelling. Wolffe removed his headset and gave them some hand signals, letting his men know that they were crossing the border into Guatemala. Wolffe pulled on his fingerless gloves while his men pulled on their packs. They were all ready. 

The men stood up, clipping the ropes of their harnesses onto the bar on the ceiling of the helicopter. The chopper hovered and Wolffe gave more signals. With ease, all men rappelled to the ground, swiftly unhooking themselves. The helicopters didn’t land, they flew off the moment the men were all on the ground. 

Wolffe motioned for his men to follow, then they all marched out into the jungle.

Tags: @divergent-llamas-03 @klay97 @iamassbuttkingofhell @sued134 @jedi-mando @mackstrut @shadylightbearherring @opalstxrs

[brandywine-tomatoes]

Lightsaber Trials

Bad Batch Fluff

Prompt chosen by my wife @icedcoffee101

Masterlist

TW: arguing/bickering, a few dark implications here and there, ms. tano not leaving the jedi order, Ahsoka saving the day

Word count: 2163

Prompt/Inso: #4 from my list: Fun times with a lightsaber

QUICK NOTE: BSL stands for Basic Sign Language, and yes I made it up

--

“Why exactly are we giving our debriefings on Coruscant?” Crosshair asked, the question directed beside him at Hunter who was fiddling with a datapad. Something about booking landing zones?

“The Jedi want to meet us in person apparently,” Tech, who was bringing the Havoc out of hyperspace, answered instead.

“Haven’t we met them already?”

“It’s statistically impossible for us to meet-”

“I didn’t ask what was statistically impossible,” he sat forward in his seat. “I asked why we’re debriefing on Coruscant.”

“They ask squads to report to Coruscant whenever they feel it’s necessary,” Echo said from the co-pilot's chair.

“That must waste a lot of time,” Wrecker piped in from behind them all.

“The jedi just love to control everything,” Cross mumbled and sat back up, crossing his arms.

“I doubt you’d get away saying that around them.”

“Well then it’s a good thing we haven’t landed yet.”

“Will you ever stop being so condescending to authority?” Echo turned to face him.

“Guys,” Hunter interjected. “Enough.”

Echo rolled his eyes and turned back to help Tech land the ship.

“We have better things to do than meet the people who send us to die every day,” Cross wryly concluded. He got up and went to open the hatch. The bright Coruscant sun blinded him for a few seconds as he stepped out onto the tarmac, the rest of the batch following closely.

They lined up and stood at attention for the general approaching from the Jedi temple.

“At ease Clone Force 99, welcome to Coruscant,” Jedi General Plo Koon greeted them. “I assume you know why you’ve been called here.”

“Yes, general,” Hunter answered.

“There will be an evaluation of the mission's report and of course an extensive debrief...” Plo Koon went on about how the day would shape out for the batch and what was expected of them, Hunter nodding at every word beside him while the rest of the batch followed in their path.

“You’d think they’d be more efficient,” Crosshair mumbled to himself.

“Trust me, CT-9904, this is the most efficient and effective system for assessing clone squads,” Plo Koon turned to look at a flustered Crosshair.

He nodded and muttered an apology.

“Just through here, it won’t take an obscene amount of time I’m sure,” the general gestured to a doorway as they climbed the staircase of the temple.

---

“‘It won’t take an obscene amount of time’ he says. ‘This is the most efficient and effective system’ he says,” Crosshair complained on the way back to the Havoc.

The bustling city around the temple went on as the sun was crawling towards the horizon, casting a wave of deep orange over the little part of Coruscant. The clones walked wearily back to their ship, completely exhausted from the assessment and debriefing. The helmets under their arms were close to falling out of their grips as every step took more energy out of them.

“It could’ve been worse,” Wrecker tried to reason.

“Worse? What could’ve been worse than that!”

“Being court marshalled, decommissioned, reconditioned-” Echo started rhyming out, counting on his left hand.

“You know what I mean!” He threw his free arm in the hair.

Echo smirked. His favourite game was messing with Crosshair, it was just so easy, it was always an effortless achievement.

Tech was lagging behind the others, too busy sorting through his notes from the assessment on his datapad to contribute to whatever Echo and Cross were arguing about. Though, he wasn’t so tuned out that he missed the small cylinder his foot kicked. The metal tube made a small jostling sound as it rolled a couple feet away from Tech. He’d studied them enough to know what it was on sight. A lightsaber.

Not uncommon on temple grounds, but very uncommon just lying on the tarmac. Such a crucial part of the Jedi religion would never be left without its user nearby. He looked left, looked right, nothing but perfectly lined up ships on either side. No jedi to claim it, no general there to see him maybe...

He quickly picked it up and stuffed it in his satchel. What could happen? A Jedi would need to make another one, boohoo. They’ve made them for thousands of years, their stash wouldn’t deplete. The religion would survive, the temple would still stand, the war would go on. Who cares if he gets to study a lightsaber up close? He was becoming as giddy as a cadet. Who ever got to study a lightsaber other than their creators and the wielders?

As soon as they were in hyperspace, he whipped it out and started examining the intricate designs and mechanisms. Tech had fiddled with it for a solid couple of hours, trying to open up the hilt, before Wrecker noticed Tech had been weirdly quiet during their hyperspace trip.

“What is that?” He asked, pointing to it for emphasis.

Everyone turned to look at where Wrecker was pointing. Tech slowly raised his gaze from the small tool in his hand that was previously trying to pry open the hilt. His feet were on the seat, his eyes level with his knees and various small tools were balanced on them.

They stared at him, at first, with fear for their own skins. Then it turned to frustration. They all knew Tech wasn’t one to let go of something he wanted to study, but this definitely crossed a line.

“Tech,” Hunter said slowly, like he was coaxing a clanker into submission.

Tech sprang from his seat and darted down the Havoc, the rest of the Batch quickly following.

“Tech!”

He spun around and the green blade ignited from the hilt in his hand. Everyone jumped back immediately, hands held up in surrender. Tech practically threw it away from him in surprise. The polished dark metal hilt clattered to the ground and the green plasma retracted, leaving the crew in an adrenaline-filled silence.

Then all hell broke loose.

“What the absolute fuck were you thinking!” Echo yelled, not so much a question.

“It was just lying there!”

“You can’t just go around taking lightsabers whenever you damn well please!”

“But no one was using it-”

“We were at a Jedi fucking temple, Tech!” Echo threw his arms in the air.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” Wrecker tried reasoning.

“Really! He didn’t mean anything by it! Stealing a fucking lightsaber isn’t nothing!” Echo was fuming angry. “We could get in so much trouble, do you understand that!”

“Enough Echo, we all know how serious this is,” Hunter interjected.

“I don’t think you do!” He took a step towards Hunter, his fist shaking.

“Echo, they’ll know it’s a misunderstanding, it isn’t like they’re going to execute us,” he tried lightening the tension, but it seemed to only make it worse.

Echo looked at all of them with a dark look on his face. “You’re all lucky I have strings I can pull.”

“And what are those, exactly?” Crosshair smugly asked.

“I know people, and most of them own me favours.”

Echo dug through his belt of pouches to retrieve a single commlink.

“Oh yeah, we’re all saved,” Cross mumbled, walking back up the aisle to the cockpit, conveniently where the lightsaber was sitting.

“Rex, we have a problem,” he spoke into the comm, leaning against one of the bunks.

A few tension-filled seconds passed.

“Oh no, do I want to hear this?” Rex’s staticky voice filled the silence.

“Probably not, is Commander Tano with you?”

“Uh, yeah, hold on.”

The comm went silent for longer, everyone growing restless.

“Great plan, your reg Captain ditched you,” Cross said from the isle, no one noticing him examining the polished dark metal hilt.

“Echo? What’s up, what happened?” Ahsoka’s calm voice floated through the comm.

“You remember that place with the thing that one time and the promise you made?” Echo’s lips twitched up in amusement.

“Oh god, don’t remind me,” she groaned. “What do you need? How can I help?”

He gave Tech an irritated look. “Well, we accidentally stole a lightsaber-”

“Accidentally? How do you accidentally steal a lightsaber?”

“It’s a long story. Can you maybe just... I don’t know, work the force in our favour?”

She sighed fondly. “Who do I need to talk to?”

“I like her,” Wrecker tried to whisper.

Echo glared at him. “General Plo Koon.”

“I’ll holo him right now- oh wait, oh shit,” the crew heard Ahsoka ignite one of her lightsabers and deflect a couple blaster bolts. She shouted orders to Rex and the other clones who sounded like they were taking heavy fire.

“Slight inconvenience, I’ll have to holo him later. This won’t take long,” she shouted over the intense fire. “I’ll talk to you later Echo.”

The comm went silent and Echo looked worried sick.

“She’ll be fine, she’s a jedi. They don’t need anyone else’s help,” Crosshair bit out as he looked for the ignition button on the lightsaber.

“I guess- wait, Cross, what are you-”

The green sabre shot out, startling everyone except Crosshair who looked pleased with himself.

He spun it around in his right hand, getting used to the weight. “These are pretty cool.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “Quit it Crosshair, they aren’t toys.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” he tried to spin it in front of him, doing a terrible imitation of the jedi.

“Cross-”

As soon as he tried to switch the blade to his left hand, the plasma sliced through the thin aiming plate attached to his shoulder. The thin plastoid plate clattered to the ground and everyone burst out laughing while Crosshair looked absolutely heartbroken, his gaze never leaving the sliced armour.

He pushed the button on the hilt and the blade retracted. The thick tension evaporated and everyone walked up the aisle to the cockpit, patting Cross on the shoulder and chuckling to themselves.

“Switching course back to Coruscant then?” Tech asked, amusement still edged in his voice.

Hunter took his seat behind Tech. “Let’s just hope Commander Tano keeps her promise."

---

“We are incredibly sorry for the inconvenience, it won’t ever happen again,” Hunter practically followed Plo Koon out the temple and into the gardens like a sad puppy. The Batch held in their chuckles at his behaviour, all of them purely relieved Ahsoka holoed him in time.

“There’s no inconvenience, Sargeant. The padawan who owns this sabre learned a valuable lesson.”

The group walked around a cement corner to see a little twi'lek sobbing, holding her face in her hands as another padawan had an arm around her shoulders.

“Sapher.”

Her head shot up and ran to the group, seeing her hilt in Plo’s hand.

“You know not to leave this lying around,” the general knelt on the cement.

She nodded profusely, stray tears dripping down her cheeks.

“You’ve learned your lesson, Sapher?”

She nodded again. The general offered her the blade and she snatched it up, overlooking it with a keen eye. Tech felt a little bad for the scratches he made in the metal while trying to pry it open.

The kid must’ve put 2 and 2 together to figure out the clones decked out in red and black armour were the ones who returned it. She started moving her hands and arms around in precise movements, trying to convey her thanks.

“Uh, Tech, do you know what she’s doing?” Hunter whispered.

“You don’t understand BSL?” Tech rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t survive a day without me. She says she’s eternally grateful and she’ll always be indebted to us in the simplest terms, she’s using quite advanced phrases I doubt you’d understand.”

The girl looked very pleased with herself at his compliment and signed something back to Tech. They conversed for a few seconds more before she handed him a small circular piece of matte metal. He signed a goodbye and she ran back to her friend to tell her all about her new allies.

“We best be going then,” Hunter said to Plo Koon. They bid their thank yous and goodbyes and soon enough, they were finally en route to their next mission without any detours.

“What was that disk she gave you?” Echo asked.

“A holo. For once, I think we have an ally amidst the jedi ranks.”

“A holo that small? Impossible.”

Tech smiled slightly. “Very limited production, I’ve only heard about them from comm chatter.”

“How touching,” Cross sarcastically added, fiddling with a toothpick between his lips.

“You’re just sour cause you don’t have a levelling plate anymore,” Echo chuckled, turning his attention back to the controls.

“We’ll find someone to get it fixed,” Hunter cut in, not wanting another argument to break out.

“Fates forbid you don’t have the best sniper in the GAR watching your back.”

“From today's events, I’m not so sure I want you watching my back at all,” Echo jokingly mumbled.

Cross stood up. “Why you little-”

Hunter blew a fuse. “Enough already!”

--

A/N: This took so much fuc-fricking time to write!! I thought it was gonna be maybe 500, maybe 700 words, but I ended up with a 2000 word fic. Life just does that to you ig.

ANYWAYS, I hope y'all liked it, I loved writing that little Rex and Ahsoka cameo. I do want to note that this is after they rescued Echo from the Techno Union, but it's many months before the events of the Seige of Mandalore. It's also kinda a fix-it fic?? I wanted to bring ahsoka in and I was just so excited to do so that I forgot she wasn't part of the order during this time... WHOOPS

(Don't forget to drink some water right now and go eat a snack, you deserve it so much bestie ❤️❤️)

[allisonirish]

Just a fic I've had lying around.

TBB Crosshair x OC

Word Count: 3013

Warnings: Barely Any Fluff, Mentions one of my own headcanons about a SW criminal organization

Hook: Crosshair meets someone on his first shore leave.

Crosshair sat in the corner of 79's, chewing on a toothpick, next to Tech. It was broad daylight, and barely anyone was there, just two Rodians playing cards in the corner and a few green and blue Twi'lek dancers giggling at the bar. Crosshair didn't even know why Tech had wanted to come here in the middle of the day, probably to pay the bill, and get away from Wrecker, who had been playing music very loudly back at the ship. Taking out a fresh toothpick, he saw a girl enter the room. Fiery red hair was piled in a thick bun on top of her head. Her clothes were civilian and hw noticed she wore a pair of dazzlingly white lace up shoes. The dancers seemed to recognize her as she approached and almost as one they stood and moved, whispering to a different part of the room. He saw a few of them glaring at the girl, who either didn't notice or was good at pretending she didn't. Crosshair looked her up and down as she ordered a drink. She was taller than most girls he'd met, slender, lithe. The perfect mixture of strong and graceful.

"Are you ready to go?" Tech asked him, glancing up from his datapad.

"No," Crosshair peered past his brother's shoulder. "No, I want to get a drink."

"A drink? But I just payed our bill from last night... Crosshair?" Tech followed Crosshair as he approached the counter.

"Something mild," Crosshair called to the bartender. He had maneuvered himself perfectly so he was standing right next to the girl. Tech gave him an exasperated look, as Crosshair set his toothpick down on the counter.

He peered at her out of the corner of his eye as his drink was set in front of him. Her skin was pale like white sands, but it wasn't rough like sand, it was surprisingly smooth and almost without blemish. Freckles dotted her forehead, nose, and cheeks like constellations. Crosshair took a sip of his bright purple drink. Her hands were thin and her fingers long and graceful. He he felt his breath hitch slightly when her lips parted as she took a drink. She was beautiful. She glanced over at him with blue eyes. Blue like oceans with sharp green flecks in them.

"Excuse me ma'am, but may I ask you a question?" Tech's voice shattered into Crosshair's consciousness, startling him.

The redhead turned full around to face Tech.

"This may be a bit awkward, but are you a Zyger?" He asked a little to loudly, pushing his goggles up his nose. The Rodians glanced up from their game and one of the dancers gasped at the word. Even the bartender stopped cleaning a glass for half a second as he stopped to listen.

A strange shifting occurred in the girl's eyes as her serenity left her. A metamorphosis, where the blue was slowly being replaced by a stormy green.

"Why would you ask such a thing?" Her voice was soft with a hard lilt to it, almost like a stringed instrument playing a sharp note.

"The edge of your tattoo is showing." Tech pointed to her shoulder, wear the edge of her armband had slipped down, revealing half of an intricately done tattoo.

"The shape and style show similarities to Zygerrian art, so naturally I connected the two."

She jerked the edge of her armband up uncomfortably, her face turning bright red.

"I may have been Zyger...once." She turned back to her drink, shifting uncomfortably, obviously wishing Tech would stop calling attention to her.

"Pardon my brother. He doesn't know when not to pry into other people's business." Crosshair hissed, shooting daggers at Tech with his eyes.

The girl glanced at him gratefully.

"Well, I wouldn't want to admit it if I was a Zyger either, but I would be interested in any details you would like to share, as there are not many proven authentic records of such a faction."

Her face scrunched and the green further took over eyes.

"Tech, shut. up. and buzz. off." Crosshair emphasized every word slowly. He knew sometimes in Tech's enthusiasm for new knowledge, he forgot things like tact and privacy.

The girl's face and Crosshair's tone began to register and Tech hurried off to watch the Rodian's card game, slightly embarrassed.

"I'm Crosshair." He felt his eyes flicker over her face.

"Corynthiana," She nodded at him, face still flushed.

Crosshair struggled to find words.

"I'm sorry about my brother."

"It's alright, I'm used to people's...“ She paused, “reactions.” An awkward silence settled.

“Thank you though, it’s... it’s nice to have someone stick up for me. “

”No problem.”

"I don't haven't met many clones."

"I haven't met many Zyger."

She chuckled a little bit, her laugh ending on a sad note that made Crosshair wish he hadn't said it.

A communicator on her wrist beeped. “I have to go.“ She set down her drink and began to take her credits out of her pocket.

“Let me.” Crosshair placed enough credits on the counter to cover both their drinks.

“Thank you.“ she nodded, slightly smiling. She began to walk away, then turned.

“Will I see you again?” The blue was beginning to return to her eyes.

“My brothers and I are coming back tonight.“ Crosshair felt his heart skip a beat at the thought that of her being there.

“Great, I guess I might see you later then.” She nodded a final time and walked hurriedly out of the bar. Crosshair sighed as his eyes followed her and decided nothing would stop him from being at 79s that evening.

“I thought you didn't even like 79's.” Hunter stared at Crosshair suspiciously, arms crossed over his chest.

“I don't mind 79's. Everyone just get too rowdy there.” Crosshair shrugged, he didn't have to tell Hunter this. His brother knew the noise and general disorder of the place bothered him.

“So why are you wanting to go tonight?”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and deepened his scowl. “You all are going and the drinks are good there.”

“He's going to see a girl.” Tech piped up from behind them.

Crosshair did his best to keep from whipping around and strangling his snitch of a brother.

Hunter's eyebrow arched in curiosity.

“What girl?” Wrecker yelled, running down the ramp of the Havoc Marauder.

“Her name is Corynthiana.” Tech didn't even look up from his datapad. “And she's a Zyger.”

“Ex-Zyger.” Crosshair's brow furrowed.

“Yes, Ex-Zyger, although I'm not sure what difference that makes. According to my research on all members, current or non, they aren't exactly the type you would want to meet in a dark alley.” “Or anywhere for that matter.” Hunter's eyes showed his disapproval.

“Tech doesn't know her, you can't judge someone you don't know.” Crosshair tried to use something Hunter had said to him many times before against him.

“Yes, but you don't know her either.” Tech pulled out a blowtorch and began working on one of his projects.

“Will I get to meet her?” Wrecker threw his arm roughly around Crosshair's shoulder.

“No!” Hunter and Crosshair said simultaneously.

Crosshair shoved Wrecker off of him, then turned to face his older brother. Hunter wanted to say something, Crosshair could tell by the look on his face.

"What?"

“This is our first shore leave since leaving Kamino.” Hunter began slowly. “And I don't want a member of our squad to become infatuated with the first girl he sees. You know it happens to other soldiers.”

“Other regs.” Crosshair rolled his eyes. He didn't need Hunter to act like his parent.

“Yeah and it's not the first girl Cross has seen. We've seen plenty of girl's on missions and the dancers last night.” Wrecker slapped Crosshair on the back almost knocking him over.

“You know I trust you Crosshair, just don't do anything stupid.” Hunter clapped him on the shoulder as he walked past to watch Tech.”

“Is she pretty?” Wrecker asked curiously.

Crosshair only nodded and walked back to their ship. She was pretty, beautiful even and he couldn't wait to spend the whole night with her.

Crosshair rolled his eyes. Why had he even come here again? For a girl he didn’t even know. The night was half over and she still hadn't showed. It didn't help that his brothers were already acting like fools. Hunter was completely drunk and was dancing clumsily with an orange Twi’lek. Tech was also completely intoxicated as he was unsuccessfully trying to hold himself and a drunk reg up, while Wrecker was babbling and throwing darts at a board over and over, long after the game had ended and the other competitors had left. Why did he even think the girl would show up? Why had he gotten his hopes up in the first place? It was uncharacteristic of him, and he recognized that. He threw his toothpick angrily on the floor.

Still, the way she had looked at him, blue eyes soft, curious, had made his heart do little flips in his chest. He'd always thought himself above crushes, especially on girls he had just met, but he had fallen for her in a matter of moments. He'd gone out of his way to keep Tech from bugging her, he even bought her drink. He'd contemplated that as he shaved his face that evening. He would never have done that for anyone, he always guarded his savings carefully, but he'd bought her drink and now she'd stood him up.

Suddenly Crosshair's ears caught her voice. She had just walked in the door. She was dressed in dark blue pants and a long sleeved white shirt with those stunningly clean white shoes to match.

"Hey soldier," She called as she waded through the crowd. "I didn't figure you would even be here."

Crosshair tried speaking, but his tongue had grown thick. What was wrong with him?

"I didn't think you would come either."

"I make it a priority to keep my appointments." She laughed, a sound he could barely hear above the music.

She glanced around and he felt himself examining her again. Her shirt and pants fit snuggly, but not enough to make her look like she was trying to flaunt something. and he noticed a necklace, a simple gem wrapped partially in leather on a string that lay against her chest.

"Kinda loud here isn't it?" She pressed her palms to her ears.

He nodded in response, noticing Hunter, drunkenly making his way towards them.

"Do you wanna go somewhere more quiet?" She raised her voice.

"Sure."

Hunter was getting closer, and for some reason Crosshair didn't want her to know that was his brother, completely stoned with a big splatter of red lipstick, probably from that Twi'lek, across his forehead. Also Hunter may try to say something to her, something rude or embarrassing.

He followed her out the door where she hailed a speeder for hire. She said a few words to the driver, handed him some credits, then turned back to Crosshair.

“Hop in.”

He slid into the backseat and she scooted in next to him. The speeder took off, through Coruscant's dense traffic, the light's from the assorted clubs and bars sped by. The more exclusive clubs had long lines of patrons waiting to be let inside, while rich playboys with scantily dressed women on their arms were ushered right in by the rough looking bouncers.

"So, what's it like, being a soldier of the Republic?"

He turned back to her. Her blue eyes sparkled with the glow of all that was happening around them.

"It's alright."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a sniper."

Her face fell and her voice grew solemn. "That's a lot of responsibility, your brothers must trust you an awful lot."

"I suppose." Crosshair said, not missing the look of respect in her eyes.

“Is this your first shore leave?”

“Yes.” He wondered how she knew.

“It's easy to tell when it's a shiny's first leave, they're all bug eyed and jumpy, cause they're not used to the city.”

Crosshair felt his lips drop into a scowl.

“I'm not bug eyed.”

She smiled a toothy smile that he thought was one of the best smiles he'd seen. It wasn't one of those gorgeous smiles he'd seen on models, but it was genuine, and he liked that.

"So what division are you in?"

"Clone Force 99."

"Is that some part of a special forces squad? For...special clones?"

Crosshair had spent some time earlier wondering if she would ask why he didn't look like the other clones.

"You could say that."

She cocked a thin, red eyebrow as a silent way of asking.

"It's a squad for genetically defective clones."

He put a fresh toothpick in his mouth and his eyes dropped, both signs, which to his brothers would have meant he didn't feel like discussing a topic anymore. He didn't know why he suddenly felt so inadequate, telling her that he was defective. It raised many of the insecurities about himself he thought he had buried when he left Kamino.

Crosshair felt a strange, unfamiliar pressure on his hand. He looked down to see her small, white hand atop his, slender fingers wrapped gently around his own. Her hand was warm, he could feel their heat through his gloves.

He looked back up into her eyes. There was an understanding in them, a knowing that went beyond anything words could express at that moment. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to pull away from the contact, to escape from the vulnerability he felt when she looked at him that way. Her hand gently squeezed his, creating a hard lump in the back of his throat.

"Corynthiana..." He liked the feel of her name on his tongue. He decided to try it again.

"Corynthiana,"

"Yes?" Her eyes never left his.

"Where are we going?"

Her eyes shifted down for only a moment.

"Nowhere, I only paid the cabby to drive us around, not take us anywhere in particular."

"Why?" Her answer had surprised him. He threw his toothpick out of the cab, awaiting her answer. She sighed and her hand slipped off his, leaving it cold.

"Crosshair, what do you know about the Zyger?"

Crosshair felt his heart sink in disappointment. So this is what she'd been leading up to. She'd taken him away from his brothers, his squad, and acted like she could read his thoughts. Acted like she cared a little bit about him, just so she could find out what he knew about her.

"I know the Zyger are filthy murderous assassins who work for Zygerrian slaver scum. They kill woman and children, burn crops, and wipe out entire towns, just to make a few credits." He hissed, then instantly felt bad. He hadn't meant for it to come out so harsh and when she winced he immediately wished to take it all back. Her eyes fell to the side, and the pain on her face was obvious.

"You're right," She scooted away from him. "We are scum."

Part of Crosshair was still frustrated at her for deceiving him, but the other part of him wanted to take her hand, to apologize for his words. Words that he had known would hurt and had said anyway.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, her voice almost broken. "I shouldn't have brought you out here, but after this morning, I...I just wasn't sure your brother wouldn't report me. I'm...I'm illegal, you know."

Her eyes drifted back up to him and Crosshair noticed they were a deep, foggy green.

"I'll go to prison if the police find me. Not just for a few years, but for life and that's if I'm lucky. Most Ex-Zyger are executed immediately following a trial."

Crosshair's heart stopped. The thought of her being imprisoned or killed disturbed him.

"I...I know we don't know each other, but I saw something in you this morning. Something I thought I could trust, something that made me think you cared. And I thought maybe you could help me."

Crosshair sighed, perhaps giving off the wrong impression.

"I don't want credits!" She yelled suddenly, causing the driver to turn his head slightly towards them and Crosshair to flinch.

"Sorry," She apologized throwing her hands up. Reading the shock on his face from her outburst.

"I...I just want someone to talk to and spend time with. I've been alone here for a while and.." She took a deep breath. "I don't know who to trust."

The driver parked back in front of 79's. Crosshair hadn't even realized they'd been making a circle. Her eyes pleaded with him and he saw in her an endless need for companionship, for someone to trust. He had his brothers, but Corynthiana...she had no one and he couldn't begin to think how long it may have been since she did have someone she could talk to, someone she could trust.

He contemplated for a half second that felt like an eternity. What if Hunter was right? What if she was playing him for a fool? Crosshair didn't think he could be that easily duped, but the Zyger were master criminals. They could take advantage of anyone, even him. Yet his heart longed to help her, to stay with her, to see her again.

"Where do you wanna meet next?"

Her face broke into that huge smile.

"I don't know. Where do you wanna go?" Her eyes were becoming that peaceful blue again.

Crosshair thought a moment. "There's a few places I've heard of that you might like."

"Perfect! You can send them to me!" Corynthiana dug a scrap of paper out of her pocket and held it out to him. Crosshair took it, it was her private comm channel. When he looked up again, she had already clambered out of the speeder.

"Thank you." She said softly when he had joined her in walking back into 79's. "You don't know how much this means to me."

"Yes I do." He whispered and he really did.

[dragon-pups]

Breath, Please

Prompt: Tech dies while trying to save Omega. She still dies.

TW: Torture, Death

Read at your own risk. @brekkers-girl , @angstkings , @icedcoffee101

Break because its long and i don’t wanna crowd someones dash​

She wakes up to cold and darkness, having no idea how she got here or where she is. She remembers running, but not why she was. 

From what she can see of the room she’s in, which isn’t much, she's in major trouble. The chains binding her to the wall are thick, and the manacles tight. There's rough stone behind and below her. It smells of mildew and there’s an old metallic tang in the air. She knows that smell, from all her hours under Nala Se, to be blood.

She can’t see more than a meter from where she sits, but she assumes the door is across from her. Though it's hard to tell. The only thing she's going by is the occasional distant screams, and broken pleas for help. 

She doesn’t like this place. She wants to go home. Back to her squad. Back to her brothers.

⌖⌖⌖

She doesn’t know how long she was sitting in the dark before the door suddenly screeched open and a too bright light blinked on. She recognizes the footsteps that enter the room. She may not have been around him long, but Crosshair is a very meticulous person. Every step is purposeful, every movement distinct. 

Her lost brother didn’t enter alone either. There was a hover-cart and a flying probe of some kind. Once her eyes adjust to the bright light she can finally see the cart's contents to their fullest. Knives of many shapes and sizes. Hypos full of who knows what. Whips and flails. An electric baton. 

She thought she felt fear when that bounty hunter was chasing her. That doesn’t even compare to the bone chilling terror she feels right now. She can feel herself trembling, and she can’t stop the tears already streaming down her face.

“Where are the traitors?”

Her dread increases tenfold at the harsh and cold way the words were growled at her. She thought his voice was uncaring before the chip took effect. There is no humanity or warmth left in his being. Nothing that was Crosshair exists anymore.

When she doesn’t answer he reaches for the baton. Turning it on he asks again.

“Where are the traitors!” 

A few seconds passed before the electric end was jammed so harshly into her stomach that something burst. The pain was excruciating, more pain than she had ever felt before. Her nerves feel fried and she knows this is just the beginning, but she can’t give up her squad. They will come for her, she knows this. She just has to withstand and then they will get her out. 

She’s a bit more prepared for the next strike. That didn’t stop her voice from cracking on a sharp scream from the agony. He held that strike a bit longer than the first one. Watching her twitching form as he circles her like a predator waiting to pounce. 

Could be hours or even days before he grows bored. She has long since lost her voice, throat raw and bleeding. She’s tired and bruised. Crosshair looks like he’s just begun, carefulling picking up every knife and looking over every inch. 

Finally after his deliberation he picks up a relatively short blade. It’s thin and curved. What kind of a blade is it? 

He moves behind her with the knife and stops. He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. It’s almost more unsettling than being tortured out right. She knows he plans to hurt her, and has hurt her. Why is he waiting? 

The sudden tight grip on her hair, pulling her head back, startles a blood choked gasp from her. The small blade is pressed to her cheek, and before she can even breath the blade pierces her flesh. The flesh of her cheek is removed in one smooth cut. He moves the blade again and this time all the flesh from her wrist to her finger tips is cut from her. 

He takes his time removing pieces of her flesh. Always careful enough so she doesn’t bleed out. Always meticulous with every cut. Moving from her hand to her back. From her back to her stomach, to her foot. Until eventually she's a checkerboard of missing pieces.

He stands before her now. Looking at her with such a bored look on his face, and all she can do is stop herself from writhing in pain. He pauses for merely a moment to see if she will finally talk before picking up the next tool.

⌖⌖⌖

Eventually Crosshair gets called away and she's left with the probe. It's worse. Crosshair stopped every once in a while. He gave her time to breathe, to choke the blood back down her throat. The probe constantly shocks her. It pumps her veins full of toxins and drugs, until she can’t see. Until she can’t feel herself breathe. Is she even breathing?

⌖⌖⌖

They’ve been running through this maze of identical halls for the past two hours and they still haven’t found her. The likelihood that Omega is still alive dwindles the longer they take. Currently they have a 3.8% chance of finding her. If they were to split up that would raise their chances by 18.3%. Tech tells the others as such, but they’re reluctant. 

“Splitting up is our best course of action to find omega alive.”

“Right. Echo, Wrecker, you take the southern hall. Tech you’re with me.”

They had only cleared five more halls before they came to another T. Tech didn’t even need to say anything for Hunter to know what his suggestion would be.

“No, we stick together.”

“It would be more practical-”

“I said no, Tech.” 

“I am as concerned about Omega's welfare as the rest of you. Arguing is not helping her, and splitting up gets us to her faster.”

“Alright! Fine, just keep comms open.”

“Leaving our comm channel open will increase the likelihood of our enemies discovering our location.”

“I know Tech, but if I can’t see you I need to be able to hear you. I can’t lose any of you.”

“Comms open, Sarge.”

“Good luck.”

“You as well.”

⌖⌖⌖

It's the 13th door of the 17th hallway that he bursts through and finds her. Strung up by skinned wrists, covered in burns, welts and cuts. He doesn’t hesitate to shoot the probe shocking her, but it takes him a second to force himself to move towards her. She looks dead. She can’t be dead, but he knew the likelihood of them finding her so was 85.37%. 

He’s careful in the way he moves her, checking for a pulse. He finds it weak and dropping fast. He can barely choke out her name through his tightening throat. She’s just a child and she died for them. No dying, they could save her. He releases her cuffs and cradles her to his chest. 

Running back through the countless halls he informs the others that he found her and that he’s in route to extraction point B. He was two halls, 43.6 meters away from freedom, when his way was blocked. There’s at least a full platoon in front of him, and two more approaching from behind. He ducks into a narrow crevice in the wall and fires on the troopers. He holds his own for several minutes, but he’s out numbered.

A shot to the thigh has him collapsing out of the crevice into the hall. He stands and continues firing before taking several shots to the torso drops him to his knees. Another volley of shots to the belly, chest and back sends him crashing to the floor. He’s choking on the blood filling his lungs when he feels a familiar thundering charge. 

He hears a hellfire of blaster bolts and the crunching of armor and bone as he painfully crawls his way to Omega. He pulls up himself to sit in front of her, acting as a living shield. Cradling her away from all the bolts flying through the hall. He’s still struggling to breath as the others clear their way to them. He struggles to breath still as Echo lifts him up into his arms. He struggles the most when Omega is taken from his arms.

He can feel every step Echo takes in his back. He can feel every turn in his chest. The breath that fills his belly hurts, but he knows it's not enough. He knows he’s slipping. Just like he knows when Hunter chokes on a breath that they failed. That they lost their baby sister for good.

Somehow he survives the run to the ship. He’s still alive when Echo hands him to Hunter. Still alive to see the grief in all their faces. Still alive to feel when Omega is replaced in his arms. Still alive to feel her get colder by the second. 

He’s aware when Hunter chokes on another sob. He’s aware when Hunter begs someone to breathe. He’s aware when the ship enters hyperspace.

He wasn’t aware when his heart stopped. He wasn’t aware when Hunter couldn’t choke back his anguish anymore. He wasn’t aware of the others holding each other, holding him and Omega, while they sobbed. 

And he wasn’t aware when he and Omega were buried together in a valley full of the most beautiful flowers the group had ever seen.

[a-lil-perspective]

I wish you would write a fic where... Crosshair becomes a dad and it completely transforms him. You know that permanent scowl on his face? Boom, gone! That man is so soft for his babygirl, like he's in awe, he LOVES being a buir and is living his best life

I love writing Fatherly!Crosshair and I love writing it a bit complex because I think it’d be such a journey for him. In my ‘Remember Me’ series (which I’ve been too lazy/scared to finish but really need to like good Lord) I touch on this theme extensively. It’s a complete transformation for Crosshair just not necessarily an immediate one, the whole him becoming a dad part—he definitely needs time to process the weight behind that but like holding his baby for the first time? That got him. He adores being Buir, it just takes him a bit to get there. It does completely transform him. And you would get to see the entire process of that, you know, if I’d ever actually finish the series. (You’re so right by the way that scowl definitely does disappear over them bebes lol).

I’m taking a shot in the dark here and hesitantly pointing you to a segment of that series (if you haven’t read it) where Crosshair holds his kid for the first time and it finally all just kind of clicks for him; that’s his moment of solemnity in a time he’s had such an irresponsible handling on the situation. Putting it under the cut here. Fair warning: it’s a bit outdated as far as writing style but hopefully you get the gist.

((From chapter 14 of Remember Me/Holding On (For Dear Life) in where Crosshair has just been left alone to bond with his newborn son for the first time.)

—

Crosshair winces as Asher’s distressed gurgles and shrills pierce the space. He starts to sweat again, those tendrils of doubt clamping around. There’s a blasted tremor in his hands as he brings one up to a contemplative hover over the baby’s face. He scans his surroundings, Verd is not around. He takes a deep breath.

“Asher.” He allows a moment for the silky utterance to sprinkle. It somehow seals the surreality of fatherhood, verbalizing his son’s name for the first time.

Hopefully the first of many more to come.

“Ramser’ika.” Crosshair tests out the nickname next and enjoys the pang it brings. Asher’s tiny lip quivers as he looks up to his Buir in response. He makes the same face his mother does when she’s sad.

“Hey. Son. You’re alright...” the hand still hovering finally comes to rest underneath Asher’s right eye. Crosshair positions his index finger and begins a gentle trace around. Just the way he personally liked it.

Asher’s delicate features smooth out, his cries ceasing. He emits a soft whimper as he eases into the touch of a stranger.

“That’s it. Good boy,” Crosshair murmurs, finger continuing to sketch randomized shapes, switching between each eye. The baby’s lids begin to flutter, but Crosshair doesn’t halt his skilled movement for a moment, lost in the rhythm and swell. Verd wasn’t kidding, their son absolutely loves this.

And so does he.

Crosshair can’t help the quiet chuckle he expels. “Takes good care of us doesn’t she, your Mom. Always knows what we need...” He falters as the steady rise and fall of Asher’s chest and stray sleepy coos take over in the provision of solace. His fingers gradually come to a stop in the sea of soothe.

With Asher now asleep, Crosshair studies his son more closely; a proper introduction. He starts with the sparse hairs populating the boy’s head. He loves the brown, it’s a soft shade: darker than Tech’s chestnut color but far lighter than Hunter’s near ebony. Tawny, with caramel undertones. Crosshair wonders if it will darken with age, progressing into more of a dark brown to mimic that of his eyebrows. He just finds himself immensely thankful that Asher didn’t come out with thinning platinum. That would’ve been... something. Crosshair can’t decide what. It nearly pulls a snort from him in the contemplative silence.

His eyes trail past Asher’s closed lids and thick dark lashes, settling over his facial structure next. Full cheeks a stark contrast to his own hollowed ones. Delicate lips puckered unconsciously in his sleep as he sucks on nothing but still air. He has his mother’s nose, thank the Maker. Verd swears up and down that Asher has his father’s smile. Crosshair doesn’t see it. But then again, he never actually sees himself smile. He knows it happens, but he doesn’t know what it looks like—just the feeling. Verd would always tell him it’s handsome.

He’ll just have to take her word for it.

His gaze sweeps further down Asher’s little body, over his tan, velvety-smooth skin, his spindly torso and chubby legs. His tiny, inexperienced fingers and toes bred of a Commando, destined for greatness.

Gods, he’s precious.

A shiver spikes through Crosshair as he’s overcome with a raw emotion that leaves him struggling to breathe. He secures his hands further underneath Asher before scooping his small son up to his chest. He runs a hand over the soft crown, ruffling through his newfound purpose.

“Daddy’s got you,” he whispers gravely in Asher’s ear, beginning a gentle rock. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. I... I promise.”

His throat tightens. He doesn’t realize Verd’s does the same in the other room as she overhears the solemn declaration.

Verd doesn’t return for what Crosshair estimates to be several minutes, leaving him alone to his thoughts. A large part of him feels this silly sense of pride over his accomplishment—this was a big step, right? Holding a baby? His baby? By all accounts, holding a child was no simple endeavor. Not for a soldier.

‘Cin vhetin’, the mantra chimes in his head.

Fresh start.

For the first time in his entire genetically enhanced life, Crosshair breathes untroubled instead of the harsh battle fumes that normally clog his lungs.

Asher is warm; the scent of sweet milk, absorbed emollients, and fresh linen swathing his tender flesh. His itty bitty fists curl lightly at his sides as his slumbered breaths whistle pleasantly against his father’s chest. Crosshair spreads his palm over Asher’s tiny back and strokes up and down the soft onesie material covering. His son offers a contented coo.

Crosshair finds himself nearly offering the same.

[brandywine-tomatoes]

Imperial Darkness

The Bad Batch angst

Third attack in the Great Angst War of 2021 between @icedcoffee101, @dragon-pups, @angstkings, @in-the-crosshairs, and @brekkers-girl (me)

Masterlist

TW: a bit of interesting imagery, people dying, mention of decomposing

Word count: 1,316

Prompt/Inspo: DEATH, DRAMA, TEARS, CHAOS. (@cptalpha-17)

Everyone dies by themselves, alone and scared for the others as they don’t know if the others are alive or dying or just injured. (@angstkings)

Hunter looked up from where he was studying his datapad at the sound of Wrecker’s voice. “Hey, uh... you don’t happen to know where Omega is, do you?” (@icedcoffee101, my wifey)

--

It was so peaceful, so quiet. So green and calming, the softly flowing, miles high grass providing the perfect hideout for the Batchers. The door finally opened on the Havoc Marauder and the Batch was welcomed to the new world.

Omega sped out first, desperate for fresh air and a look at a new planet. Echo and Cross were next to run after her, being the closest to the door.

They ran quickly down the steps, calling her name. They stopped in their tracks and looked around, the small child nowhere in their sights. They took off their helmets, setting them on the short grass.

“TAG, you’re it!” Omega yelled to Echo and sprinted under the ship, nothing but a pure ball of happiness.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be,” Echo called to her. He quickly slapped Cross’s shoulder and sprinted the way Omega went.

Cross groaned, a ghost of a smirk on his face. “Really, Echo?”

Omega sprinted beside the ship, ducking under the wings and breathing in the fresh, cool air. As she rounded the front of the Marauder, she spotted Crosshair’s legs sneaking up in front of the nose. She looked back at Echo who was gaining on her and took a chance.

She ran straight for Crosshair, and at the last moment, slide onto her side under his extended arm and quickly recovered, running on her feet and whooping at her evasive tactic.

She could hear Crosshair’s annoyed voice, though she couldn’t see how impressed he was. “Why you little-”

Tech pulled out a panel of the dash in the front, barely taking note of the 3 running around the ship. He got to work on the fried wires, cutting them and re-wiring the controls, a long and painstaking process that would take hours.

Hunter was there, helping Tech hold and cut wires to his brother's liking. After about 15 minutes, Tech became too frustrated to think right and walked away to take a break, throwing his hands up multiple times.

Hunter grabbed a datapad lying on one of the seats and triple-checked all planets in orbit of their hideout, making sure there weren’t any Imperial occupied encampments this far out in the outer rim.

Hunter looked up from studying the datapad at the sound of Wrecker’s voice. “Hey, uh... you don’t happen to know where Omega is, do you?”

“She’s outside with the other two, I heard Cross was getting frustrated,” Hunter chuckled.

Wrecker looked at him with unease. “I looked outside, they... they aren’t there. Their helmets were, but...”

Hunter went on full alert. He jumped out of his chair, whipping the datapad into the other seat and grabbed the nearest blaster.

He darted out of the ship into the small clearing. He looked wildly around, his free hair whipping the sides of his face. He saw no other option than bolt into the eerily flowing grass, ignoring the calls from Tech and Wrecker.

He dragged his body through the thick green. The grass stuck to his armour and pulled his hair back, it clung to his legs and tried to keep him from moving, the thick coating that kept the grass forest together trying to claim him as another victim.

“OMEGA, CROSS, ECHO!” He shouted over and over and over again.

His cries were never heard, his efforts never enough.

A blast bolt hit his thigh, a burning pain sending him to slimy dirt that slowly rose higher and higher to consume him.

He tried to crawl away from whoever was closing in on him, he tried crawling his way to Omega’s muffled screams he heard to his left. He tried with every ounce of strength he had, every ounce of strength he had on Kamino, protecting his brothers from the regs and the kaminoans.

He struggled to breathe, the slimy coating of the grass being forced down his throat like the truth that he’d failed Omega and failed to protect his brothers when they needed it most.

Something strong pressed into his armour, the slime under the pressure oozing out over the plastoid and pushing him further into the slim.

“Well, you are certainly a disappointment,” a low and calm voice brought him back to his situation.

He wasn’t there for much longer.

A blaster burned its way through his exposed head. Hunter’s body went limp and claimed a victim by the grass forest.

The man with the low voice signalled the flame troopers to open fire to the left of Hunter’s hastily decomposing body. They burnt through the slimy grass in no time, reaching Crosshair and Echo forming an alcove for Omega, whispering that everything will be fine, they just needed to wait for Hunter.

The man thought about what a work of art this moment could’ve been if the right painters and right materials were used. How picturesque it was, what a powerful story it could tell.

Crosshair and Echo paled at the sight of him, his clean, white uniform, decorated in war medals, a few slime drips staining the pristine fabric over thin shoulder pads. Omega cowered farther away from him, almost consumed by the forest making its grip around her stronger and stronger.

“What a beautiful example of clone evolution. Too bad it’s all a waste.”

He raised his blaster and shot the clones at the precise mark of a temple. He was being merciful.

Omega screamed at the top of her lungs and trying to keep the dead clones from dropping into the slim they were protecting her from.

“Child, don’t fear us, we don’t want to hurt you,” he cooed in a soft voice, dropping to his knees in front of a sobbing Omega. He gently pulled her hands away from Crosshair and Echo, the forest gaining another two victims as they sunk slowly into the slime.

“Do you want to get out here, Omega?” He smiled softly.

She nodded hastily, her hands still trembling.

“Then I’ll take you out of here. I’ll protect you with my life, Omega, if you let me.”

She looked at the bodies being consumed before her. She brought her eyes to his and nodded. She wrapped her small arms around his neck and he picked her up. He signalled the flametroopers to clear them a path back to the shuttle they plummeted down in.

“Wh-what-” Omega’s weak voice failed her. She clung on tighter as she sobbed.

“You can call me Mitth'raw, but only you deserve to speak it,” he softly said.

“Grand Admiral Thrawn, we’re nearing the shuttle. Do I give the order?” One of the flametroopers asked. Thrawn nodded slightly, making sure to keep the girl still and undisturbed.

The Marauder blew in a heap of smoke and metal, Tech and Wrecker about to lift off to find the others. He gave them a quick death, he gave them mercy.

“Now Omega, I need to try and block Clone Force 99 from your mind,” he set her down on the burnt, solidified slime, kneeling to meet her eyes. “I know it will hurt, I know it will feel like dishonouring them, but I don’t want you to cry anymore,” he gently whipped her cheeks with his sleeve. “Can you do that for me?”

Omega whimpered. “Will it- will it stop? The aching?”

“One day it will, if you do what I ask. Can you do that for me, Omega?”

“I’ll try.”

He smiled. “That’s all I’m asking of you.”

He led her to the round, dark shuttle surrounded by imperial darkness and armoured troopers with flame throwers. Omega looked up at Thrawn, his crimson eyes the only small comfort she had left. He nodded, sensing her unease and held her hand to the plain space of the shuttle.

She stepped over raised metal and chose her fate. She’d grow to become something she’d never thought she could, something she’d never known she wanted.

--

A/N: Y'all... I surprised even MYSELF with writing this. I was scrolling through my brain, looking for who could take Omega, then I started actually scrolling on this website, and Rae Sloane came up. I thought for sure that I was gonna use her, but then I realized not a lot of people know who she is. THEN I WROTE THRAWN'S NAME AND IT ALL WENT DOWNHILL FROM THERE.

ANYWAYS, I hope y'all are safe and drinking water and eating a snack right now. I just got my vaccine yesterday, so my arm hurts like a BITCH, but it won't stop the angst 😈😈. Bye for now 💞💞!!