#armor-group-marauder

[horizon-armor]

Tenakth Sky Climber | Tenakth Marauder Cold Sands Lowland Stalker Night Blood Renegade Sentinel Scorched Ochre

All Dyes

[stellarbit]

Shadows of the Order

the sad batch x reader

5.5k words themes hurt and comfort

You were separated from the Batch when Order 66 was executed on Kaller. Even as a Jedi dropout you weren't safe. Left behind, you have to recover and restart in the world after the Republic. You'd hoped to never run into Clone Force 99 again, but that hope ran out one day. featuring: a b1 battle droid

You know who deserved better? The clones. You know who else? The B1 battle droids. So I stuck a clanker in here for funsies. Had a ton of fun writing this. Hope y'all enjoy a little anguish. I'll be doin a spicy one next.

You fought alongside Clone Force 99 for a long time before the Battle of Kaller. Before Order 66. After meeting the padawan, Caleb, at the rendezvous point, you’d split off from the group to assist a team of troopers on the mountain while the boys joined General Bilaba. 

The troopers you encountered recognized you from your days with the 501st. Despite your repeated efforts to clarify that you were no longer a Jedi, they seemed unconvinced. Fortunately, after dispatching a group of droids, the remaining Separatist forces were routed towards the main front, allowing your group to do the same.

As you neared the midway point down you noticed the troopers falling back. Sliding to a stop in the snow, you turned back. There were about 10 of them, all standing around one holding a holocomm of a hooded figure. Half of them looked at you in sync, fixing the grip on their guns, the rest followed a heartbeat later. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Somewhere far down the mountain you heard screaming and blaster fire at the same moment the troopers turned their guns on you. You took off away from the troopers before the first shot rang out. 

“Get the Jedi!” A lone trooper pierced through the chaos.

Quick thinking led you to drop a stun grenade, followed by another, as you sprinted onward. The explosions managed to incapacitate some of the troopers, but not enough. Switching your blaster to stun mode, you sought cover behind a nearby tree, emerging only to neutralize the nearest clones before a shot hit your right shoulder, propelling you into a desperate sprint away from them.

With escape and evasion as your only viable options, the Marauder seemed too distant to reach in time. Instead you aimed for a waterfall you spotted while landing. It was a slim chance, but your best hope for losing the troopers.

As you fled, you deliberately dug your fingers into the wound on your shoulder, leaving a trail of blood in your wake. It was a risky move, but if you had any hope of evading capture, they needed to track you. When you saw the water through the trees you wasted no time in ripping away your chest plate. As soon as you got to the crest of the waterfall you launched your chest plate over the edge.

With one glance over the cliff, you gritted your teeth, pressing into your injured shoulder, crouched, and lowered yourself over the ledge. You grabbed high over the ledge and drug your bloody hand back down over. One more look below to ensure a safe landing spot and let go. Relying on the Force to guide your descent into an alcove leading behind the cascading water. 

Once there, you swiftly shed the remaining pieces of armor, discarding them into the rushing stream as you shifted farther into the veil of the waterfall.

When you finally heard the troopers at the cliff edge, all you could do was listen, wait, and hope they fell for it.

“Looks like she tried to scale down,” one of them remarked, his voice carrying over the sound of rushing water.

“There! In the water, I see her armor!” Another trooper's voice rang out, sending a jolt of panic through you as you desperately sought cover. Their voices dropped too low to hear before you caught the tail end of the conversation.

“Confirmed, Commander Grey. The Jedi has been neutralized. Visual confirmation obtained,” a trooper reported, the cold finality of his words chilling you.

The clone trooper paused, most likely receiving transmission. “Yes sir. Alright boys, we are to rejoin Commander Grey and head out. His forces eliminated Bilaba and Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan. Gather the stunned troops and let’s move out.” That was the last thing you heard before the troopers left. 

Your heart stopped. The blood in your veins froze. You lurched for something - anything - to steady yourself on. One moment everything was normal and the next you were being gunned down by clones you risked everything for. Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan.

There wasn’t enough air in the tiny alcove to think, the waterfall was too loud, the water hitting your face too cold. Desperately, you gripped the slippery rocks as your legs gave out.

Nothing made sense. Questions raced through you, each more unsettling than the last. Had all of the clones turned on the Republic? Why were they targeting Jedi specifically? Clones that served with General Bilaba for years suddenly gunned her down. 

Nothing added up. If the orders affected all clones, there was a good possibility that the Bad Batch was also following them. Despite their independent streak, they were still clones, some orders had to be followed. It was a sobering realization - one that left you feeling vulnerable and nauseous. You weren’t going to be safe until they left. If they left.

The thought of aiming a weapon on the members of Clone Force 99 cracked something inside you. Besides, it was foolish to think you had a chance against all of them. With an entire army of reinforcements, attempting to take them on would be nothing short of suicidal.

Survival became your sole focus. There was no time to dwell on what went wrong or how to escape the planet's unforgiving terrain. For now, all you could do was stay hidden, biding your time until the coast was clear.

One by one, you discarded your armor and any identifiable markers into the water. It wasn’t about shedding your identity; it was a practical decision, one you could handle. Not long after, the sound of footsteps echoed from above. You pressed yourself against the rock again, your senses on high alert.

An eternity seemed to passed before the person moved. “The Jedi target was neutralized. If she’s not already dead, she’s as good as it.” It was Crosshair’s voice, cold and detached. 

There was another moment of silence before you heard Tech’s voice, “Affirmative. Blood stains indicate she attempted to scale down the cliff and subsequently fell.” His tone was as clinical as ever but you almost fooled yourself into thinking there was something else to it. “Pieces of her armor are wedged in the rocks below. Crosshair is correct, if she did not perish on impact the likelihood of her survival is negligible. We need to leave.”

They weren't out there to rescue you; they were there to confirm you were dead.

It was all too much to process. Every muscle, every bone, every nerve in your body seemed to fail, leaving you a trembling mess. When the two men finally left, you didn’t know.

“We don’t leave our own behind.” You heard Hunter’s voice and heard his lie.

They left you. You fought for them, yet they hunted you down and abandoned you.

Long after night had fallen, you mustered the strength to climb out of the alcove, your injured shoulder protesting every movement. Descending into the battlefield, you searched for a salvageable ship and supplies. Amidst the wreckage, you stumbled upon the one thing you weren’t looking for.

General Bilaba’s lightsaber. She must’ve lost it in the struggle. Such a valuable thing lost to the snow and wreckage, not even retrieved. Disposable. You held the cold metal in your hand before tucking it away.

You found one ship that might manage to get off the ground. Nearby, you spotted a partially disabled battle droid, still in remarkably good condition despite its current state. It appeared to have been incapacitated by a stun grenade. As you examined it, Tech's lessons on droid maintenance flooded your mind, particularly the techniques for reprogramming them for combat purposes.

Kneeling beside the droid you flipped it onto its back to access programming. You’d pulled it off before, reprogramming battle droids to counter attack. You just never thought you’d need the skills like this.

The process was far from seamless. You electrocuted yourself on the power supply, nearly damaged a circuit board while removing the restraining bolt, and the rewiring process dragged on longer than expected, especially under the cover of darkness.

Eventually, the battle droid sprung to life, clutching its head as it sat up. You lowered yourself onto one knee as the droid adjusted itself. "Where am I?" its questioning began, its metallic voice filled with confusion. "Is the battle over? Did we win?"

Hearing the droid address you instead of immediately engaging in combat felt oddly surreal, but given the day's events, it was perhaps the least strange thing. "What is your primary directive?" you asked, trying to gauge its functionality.

It clunked a hand against its head. "Huh, that's odd. I don't seem to have one."

That was a start. 

You rose to your feet and offered your hand. "In that case, how about we team up and find a way off this rock?"

Its head swiveled from side to side as it processed the proposal. "You mean, I get to choose?"

You let out a small scoff and maintained your outstretched hand. "Your options are coming with me or staying here to rust."

"Fair point," the droid responded, almost cheerfully, as it reached for your hand. "So, what's the plan for getting off this dump?"

You gestured toward the ship you hoped  to salvage. "Can you handle starship repairs?"

“Sure thing, boss. Want me to clean it up?”

You threw it a puzzled look, “Why would I-” You shook your head, “No, we need to repair it enough to get it off this planet.

“Well, that doesn’t make sense.” The B1 unit pointed at the ship. “That ship doesn’t need repairs, we just crashed it.”

Maybe picking a battle droid for an assistant wasn’t the best choice. “Was it your group that crashed it?”

“Yep!” It said too proudly. “Happens all the time. But I told you, this one doesn’t need repairs to fly.” The droid paused for a second, tapping a metal digit to the tip of its face, then added. “Yet.”

That didn’t bode well for survival. You waved for it to follow you, “Let’s see if you’re right.” Over your shoulder you asked. “What can I call you?”

“My identifier is OOM-672.”

Walking amongst dozens of disabled B1 units you mused, “Looks like you’re about to be one of the last OOM models in the galaxy. So why don’t we cut that down to O2?”

“Wow!” The way it vocalized almost added syllables to the word. “Yeah, O2 sounds much better! What do I call you? Master?”

You cringed at the sound of that. “I’m not your master, O2. We’re going to have to settle with being friends or buddies.”

“You got it, Buddy!”

Thankfully, O2 was right. The ship could fly and it had enough fuel to get you far from Kaller. Enough to get you all the way to the Outer Rim if you wanted. It was risky, but following the pattern of the day, it was your only chance at survival. You just didn’t let O2 pilot.

*

After the rise of the Galactic Empire, you and O2 settled on a planet in the Mid Rim. You scavenged and sold enough equipment from Kaller for a comfortable amount of credits to start off with. You pieced together a new identity, often concealing your face beneath a helmet and relying on a voice modulator. Being dead in the eyes of the Empire had its advantages.

The best way to stay hidden, you figured, was to stay in plain sight.

You wormed your way into ownership of a small inn. Although, your background as a Jedi and a soldier left you ill-prepared for running a business, and you struggled to turn a profit.

“O2!” You shouted from the lobby.

The battle droid sauntered in from the dining area. “Yes, Buddy?” The droid’s nickname for you always worked a smile out of you.

You tossed them a rusted-out metal part, which they scrambled to catch, their movements clumsy and uncoordinated. After a few failed attempts, they finally managed to grasp it securely. “The circulator for our boiler is busted. Can you head to the market and fetch a replacement? The parts dealer should have one available.”

“Roger, roger!” O2 chimed enthusiastically, ready to depart.

You yanked them by the shoulder. “O2,” You warned. “Do you remember how to pay?”

They rolled their head in an exaggerated display of weariness. “I know, I know - ‘charge it to the tab.’”

Raising an eyebrow, you waited for more. “And?”

O2 tapped a compartment on their chest, revealing a few credits inside. A result of some previous tinkering done by you. “And I have the extra credits.”

“And what’re they for?” You pressed.

“For ‘just in case.’” They replied

Stepping forward, you pushed the compartment closed. “In case of trouble, O2,” you reminded them firmly. Giving them a light knock with the back of your knuckles, you added, “Give me a call if you find yourself staring down the barrel of a blaster.”

As far as O2 was concerned, they had it easy. You rescued them from decommissioning and in return, all you asked for were simple tasks and the opportunity to tinker with their hardware. The tinkering, more often than not, turned out for the better - at least most of the time.

When you and O2 first arrived, the presence of a battle droid initially unnerved the townsfolk. However, they grew accustomed to O2's quirky demeanor. O2 was more goofy than intimidating almost by design. Plus, after a few instances of O2 causing trouble with the neighbors, they quickly learned to keep their hands off the droid. Often with a not so subtle reminder of a vibroblade at their throats.

O2 ambled through the town, exchanging waves with the occasional vendor. Stalls and shops lined the narrow, winding streets, colorful canopies providing shelter from the sun for the patrons below. Amidst the hustle and bustle, droids weaved through the crowds, delivering goods and providing services to customers. 

As O2 approached the parts dealer, raised voices caught their attention. Nearby, at a fruit stand, a vendor held a pear just out of reach of a young girl. "That's not fair!" the girl protested, reaching for the fruit. "I already paid you!"

Deviating from their path, O2 made their way toward the girl. She appeared to be a young human with light hair, a visitor to the town. 

"Hey, stop that!" O2 called out in their attempt at an authoritative tone. They reached the girl and bent slightly to address her. "Are you in trouble, young human?"

The girl turned to O2, visibly puzzled. After a moment of assessing the situation, she nodded slowly. "Uh, yeah," she replied, more confidently this time. "Yes. He's taking my money but insisting I still owe him more." She pointed a finger accusingly at the vendor.

O2 looked between the vendor and the little girl several times. When they finally grasped the situation, they exclaimed, “Ohh! You’re in trouble and need more credits. That’s perfect!” They poked open the compartment on their chest, revealing the credits.

The girl shook her head in disbelief. "N-no, I've already paid," she insisted, casting a disdainful glance at the vendor. "He's just trying to cheat me."

Raising a finger in a gesture of understanding, O2 interjected, "You're in trouble and these credits are for 'in case of trouble.'" They plucked out a few credits and pivoted at the hip to offer them to the vendor.

From behind the booth, the vendor's expression shifted to one of quiet annoyance, yet he begrudgingly began packing a bag with pears. "There's no trouble, O2," he retorted curtly, dropping the bag into the girl's arms. "Now, move along, kid."

The girl frowned at the man but did turn away. She looked up at O2 with a smile. “Thanks,” She pulled a curious face and stepped back from the droid for a better look. “You’re a B1 battle droid. What are you doing here?”

“I’m purchasing a new part.” O2 held up the broken circulator as proof.

She held back a smile. “No, no. I meant, weren’t all battle droids supposed to be decommissioned.” She gestured around her, “So what are you doing out here alone?”

O2 didn’t have time to respond when a man yelled, “Omega! Get away from that thing!” A male with a face tattoo shoved through the crowd and slammed the battle droid in the chest with the hilt of a blade. 

“Whoa!” O2 yelled, stumbling backward into the fruit stand.

The little girl squeezed between O2 and the man.  “Don’t hurt them, Hunter!” She threw her arms out to shield O2. “They were just helping !” Three other men arrived behind Hunter while O2 righted themself.

One of the men, with a socket for a hand, pushed to the front of the group and pointed his prosthetic at the droid. “Omega, you don’t know what that clanker is capable of.” 

“Hey!” O2 whined in protest and shook a fist at him. “You can’t call me that!”

“Says who?” Growled the largest man of the group.

“Says my buddy!” O2 started reaching for its head to send out a comm when the fruit vendor grabbed his hand.

“O2!” He laughed nervously and patted the droid harshly, “There’s no trouble.” The vendor pointed a finger at the men. “I’m not dealing with their friend today, so move out.”

“Friend?” The big guy repeated incredulously.

The cyborg hovered his hand over the blaster at his hip. “Where’s your master, droid?”

O2 thrusted their head in a sassy manner, “I don’t have a master.”

Hunter moved Omega to the side and put his knife just below O2’s head. “Why don’t you take us to this friend of yours?”

“That depends.” O2 said skeptically. “Are you looking for an inn?”

Hunter passed a look to the men behind him. “An inn?”

“Only customers can come to the inn. So - are you looking for an inn?”

Hunter lowered the knife and jerked his head to say ‘get going’, “Sure thing. Now, let’s go.”

“Roger, roger.” The droid said with a little salute and then tapped his fingers to the tip of his face. “Say, do I know you guys?

“Move it, clanker.” The cyborg ordered again.

Back at the inn, you waited in the lobby reading through bank statements. The front door was open to the street, allowing you to hear O2’s distinctive footsteps approaching. You pushed away from and around the desk to greet them. “That may have been your fastest run yet. How much - oh!” You stopped mid sentence when a young girl trailed in behind the droid. Behind your headgear you smiled, “Did you make a friend?”

The little blonde waved up at you, “Hello.”

A dent in O2’s chest plate caught your eye. You motioned for the droid. “O2, what did you do to your chest plate?” 

“Well, I didn’t do it.” The droid sassed, but moved forward and leaned down for you to inspect. You reached up, held their head, and moved it side to side for inspection. Other than the dent they were fine. You patted their face in relief when, from the corner of your eye four figures filed in.

You went stock-still at the sound of a familiar voice, Hunter’s voice. “You own this clanker?”

This was it. This was the day you died. 

Giving O2 one last pat, you turned to face the Bad Batch standing in your doorway, as formidable as ever. Hunter led the group, with Echo on his left, Tech on his right, and Wrecker flanking Echo. Crosshair was conspicuously absent. Their mismatched armor was newly painted in vibrant colors. 

Silently assessing them, you took a moment to compose yourself, shoving your fear and anger as deep as you could. Their demeanor said they didn't recognize you and you needed them gone before they did.

"Sure," you replied vaguely, your voice muffled by the voice modulator. Keeping your gaze fixed on the clones, you instructed O2, "O2, grab my satchels from the back." Without hesitation, the droid complied.

"What are you doing with a separatist battle droid?" Echo's voice bristled as he stepped forward. "Do you realize how dangerous that thing is?"

Images of Echo tending to your wounds flooded in, abruptly interrupted by the recollection of red blaster shots narrowly missing your head.

"OOM-672 has been reprogrammed," you replied, waving your hand dismissively. "They no longer pose a threat and wartime objectives have been nullified."

"Incorrect," Tech said as he tapped the side of his helmet to move his visor. "If the droid's reprogramming is faulty, it could revert to its original directives at any moment. Depending on the data stored in its memory, that could prove dangerous should it fall into the wrong hands." He advanced toward O2, pointing a finger. "Allow me to examine it—"

“Their programming is fine.” You instinctively took a step back, bumping into O2 with the bags you requested. One had spare credits for bribing them out of your parlor and, in case that didn’t work, the other contained a blaster and Bilaba’s lightsaber.

As you sorted through the first bag for credits, you spat, “No one lays a hand on the droid except me. Especially not a bunch of clones." With a flick of your wrist, you tossed a handful of credits at Hunter. "Now get out of my lobby.” You made the mistake of addressing them as clones and hoped the odd comment passed over them. They obviously didn’t look like other clones to the untrained eye.

"Oh!" O2's voice chimed in recognition, but you swiftly raised a hand to silence the droid.

“Do we look like we work for the Empire?” Wrecker asked, almost growled, with hands on Omega’s shoulders. 

Hunter glanced at the credits before tossing them back. “Just let us look at the droid,” he urged.

Without missing a beat you caught the credits, brandished the blaster, and aimed it at the leader. Immediately, the other brothers aimed their blasters at you. "Got a malfunction in those helmets?" You gestured toward the exit with your weapon. "I said leave. No stranger gets their hands on my droid."

“Strangers?” O2 stepped to your side and pointed at the group of clones. “They’re not strangers. We know them.”

Your blaster dipped for a moment, frustration nipping at you before you firmed up your grip. “O2, knowing someone for five minutes doesn’t mean you know them.”

“Just calm down.” Hunter said slowly.

“Five minutes?” The battle droid shook their head in confusion. “We go waaay back.” They hummed a thoughtful sound. “Although they did stun me on Kaller.” A chill gripped your spine at the mention of Kaller.

"Kaller?" Omega's gaze flitted between the men around her. "Where's that?" The rustle of shifting armor filled the lobby as the four men exchanged glances, their blasters trained still on you.

“Who are you and how did you get that droid?” Echo's voice carried a forceful edge as he pushed you.

“Get out.” You repeated with more venom. “Clones follow orders. That’s an order.”

Hunter slowly raised his hands, removing his helmet and revealing his tattooed face. The sight of him made it hard to breathe through.

"We're not with the Empire," Hunter declared. "And we're not big on following orders, either."

"Liar!" Your scream reverberated through the room, the voice modulator straining against your volume. Something flickered in Hunter's expression.

For someone with no skin in the war, you were proving to be  awfully reactive.

"Hunter," Tech intervened firmly, prompting you to swing your blaster in his direction. "Look at that blaster." You glanced down at your weapon, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

“What about it, Tech?” Hunter asked.

“That blaster has nonstandard modifications. Only five like it exist.” Tech explained, his tone serious.

“Not the time to be admiring blasters.” Echo snapped.

“The issue is,” Tech shot an annoyed look at his brother. “They are my modifications.” His grip relaxed slightly. “We have four of them and the other was - ”

You fired a shot at Tech before he could finish and attempted to fire another when Hunter lunged at you. He knocked the blaster from your hand and swung for your head. Wrecker shoved the kid behind him while you and Hunter exchanged blows, his hitting much harder than you remembered. 

You saw Tech activating a stun grenade as O2 reached for your blaster. Yanking a vibroblade from your hip, you rammed the hilt of it into the side of Hunter’s head, causing him to stumble back. Swiftly, you lurched in the way of the stun grenade, intercepted it, and threw as far as you could behind you.

Echo took no time in disarming and disabling O2 while Hunter regained his senses and grabbed for you. His touch was a breath away when you thrust out your hands and blew him back with the Force. Before Hunter could register what happened, Wrecker grabbed you by the neck, and yanked you from the ground.

You clawed at his hand but couldn’t stop the giant crushing your windpipe and ripping off your headgear. 

Seeing your bare face, livid and unable to breathe, shook Wrecker and gave you the chance to slam your feet into his stomach. He dropped you to the ground where you writhed and gasped for air. Your dropped blaster was nowhere in sight, but the other satchel was.

Still retching for air, you threw a hand out and the lightsaber flew to you. Green light blasted out of the hilt, parallel to the ground and putting a thrumming barrier between you and the clones.

“A Jedi?” Omega said in wonder, poking her head around Wrecker. Wrecker, notably, didn’t push her back behind him.

They all lowered their weapons and Tech, Echo, and Wrecker removed their helmets. Different shades of shock on all of them. “Sarad?” Tech spoke softly.

“Stay away from me.” You growled from the ground. Slowly, you repositioned yourself, strengthening your stance to pounce or run.

“We thought you were-”

“Dead?” You cut Wrecker off and cut a look at Tech. “Guess you aren’t as thorough as you think.” At that, Tech’s eyebrows hit his hairline.

“We didn’t follow that order.” Hunter interjected.

“Liar!” You lashed out. “I heard the troopers. ‘Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan.’”

Hunter started lowering himself to your eye level. “We let him escape.”

Echo stepped forward, his eyes avoiding yours. “We thought you were dead,” he admitted. He closed his eyes for a moment before finally meeting your gaze. “We thought the other troopers got to you, but we came looking for you as soon as we could.”

You didn’t dignify him with a response, in your eyes the only thing they deserved were holes through their chests.

Out of all of them, Tech stood the straightest, his demeanor showing no sign of shame in their handling of the situation. Still, he thought carefully on how to say what he needed, his hands clenching and unclenching as he processed it.

When he locked eyes with you, it was clear he’d considered his words meticulously, repeating the process in his mind multiple times before coming to the same conclusion

“With your blood and broken armor, there were two plausible outcomes,” he began, counting them out with his fingers. “First, that you perished either by the troopers or the falls. The second, that you…” His gaze momentarily shifted away, seeing your armor in the rocks. “... that you escaped.” Returning his gaze to yours, he continued, “In both scenarios, our intervention would have only made things worse. And Crosshair-”

You jumped to your feet in a challenge, Hunter quickly positioning himself between you and the others. “I don’t believe you,” you hissed, swinging the saber to the side before snapping it back in front of you. “So finish what you started.”

Hunter maintained his steady gaze as his brothers holstered their blasters. “We won’t fight you,” he assured, his tone resolute. Your eyes darted between them, searching for any sign of aggression. Seconds stretched on but the men held their ground.

“He’s telling the truth,” Omega whispered, joining Hunter at his side. "All clones were programmed to follow that order." She cast a meaningful glance at the men surrounding her. "But their altered states made them immune to the order."

For months, anger had been your constant companion, fueling you through each passing rotation. Anger at the Jedi Purge, at the failures of the Republic, and most of all, the seething rage at the Bad Batch for leaving you behind to bear the weight of it all alone. Months of grief and pain don’t just disappear.

The room seemed to warp and blur around you, your grip on the saber beginning to falter. Clinging to it tightly, you gritted your teeth, fighting to maintain your composure. The world snapped back into focus when tears finally breached your resolve, slipping down your cheeks unchecked.

“Then….” your arm dipped before falling limply at your side. “You left me for dead.” Your voice cracked and the words came out in a sob. “You left me behind.”

You thought the pain of them hunting you was the worst thing you could experience. The realization of abandonment was worse. A tight knot formed in your stomach, threatening to make you sick.

Driven by months of simmering anger, you shook your head through your tears. , “I survived without you, and I’ll keep surviving without you.” You let the green light of the saber fade. “So just leave.” The last words came out less like the command you wanted it to be and more like plea.

Wrecker ‘s eyes went wide, “You think after all this time,” he gestured toward you, “when we just got you back, we’d just leave?” A defiant look passed over him. “Sorry, not happening.”

“Sarad,” Tech spoke like it was just the two of you. YoYou closed your eyes briefly, savoring the familiarity of his tone. For a moment, you thought they might all disappear, as if they were never there. “Leaving you was a choice we never wanted to make. But it was the choice that led us here and ensured your survival. Keeping you alive was more important than keeping you by our sides.” He nodded, standing firm in his choices. “Your survival was the only acceptable outcome.”

The lightsaber grew heavy in your hand.

Wrecker reached out with a pleading gesture. "The regs would've— we couldn't..." He faltered, searching for the right words, but Omega touched his forearm and urged him forward.

Wrecker stepped through his brothers and although you flinched like you might run he reached out and touched your face. First with one hand and then a second when you tried to turn away. Holding you like that, seeing you safe in his hands, made it hard for Wrecker to ever imagine letting go.

Tears continued to flow down your cheeks, falling over his hands. Wrecker swept them away with his thumbs before pulling you into his arms. "Sorry, Sarad. We're sorry."

Your hands hovered on either side of you, it was the first time you’d truly touched another organic lifeform since Kaller. The lightsaber hit the ground and you fell into Wrecker.

You’d let yourself feel angry at them all those months alone, but, in an instant, it was overshadowed by the grief of having been without them. 

Pulling just out of Wrecker’s embrace you rubbed away the remaining tears. “I’ve missed you.”

“We missed you too.” Echo answered for the group.

Looking between them all, you felt like the world was a little safer. There were a few things standing out to you though. First being the little girl with them and Crosshair’s absence.

Immediately reading you, Hunter touched Omega’s shoulder. “A lot has changed.”

"I can see that," the girl smiled warmly at you, her expression oddly familiar despite never having met before.

Tech breezed past you, heading straight for O2. He knelt beside the droid, adjusting his goggles before turning to you. "So, you really salvaged this droid from Kaller?" You affirmed with a nod, prompting a look of mild disturbance from Tech. "And it's proven to be useful?" Another nod from you. "Well, that's just as surprising as your survival," he remarked, his tone tinged with genuine curiosity.

"Be kind to O2," you interjected, joining Tech by O2's side to rouse the droid. "They're my friend."

Echo scratched the back of his head, a sheepish expression crossing his features. "That's... going to take some getting used to."

Omega joined you and Tech, her eyes wide with fascination as Tech began to point out various features of the battle droid. A smile tugged at your lips as you watched the interaction unfold. The inn you had purchased never truly felt like home, much like Coruscant and the Jedi Order before it.

But here, amidst the Bad Batch, you finally felt a sense of belonging. You were home.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello love, I had a thought after the new episode about Crosshair x reader where she’s been with Hunter and wrecker trying to find Omega (and him) and when crosshair steps out of the ship she just runs to him <3 maybe it also includes them talking on the marauder after about what’s happened. I hope this sparks interest for you!! I love your writing :)

Forgiven

Crosshair x Reader

Summary- You reminisce on the first time Crosshair fought against you and his brothers. He thought you'd never forgive him, but he is surprised when you reunite.

A/N- So sorry this one took so long! I'm still sick but was determined to get this out! Thank you for requesting!! I hope you like it, please let me know if there is anything I can do to improve.

Word Count- 2,276

You remember the first time you realized you lost Crosshair to the Empire. The memory plagued your sleepless nights...

"I know what you're going to do, but please- don't." Omega begged Crosshair. You turned to listen to them, but couldn't figure out what she was talking about. What was he going to do? And how did Omega know about it?

"What do you know?" He remarked.

"I know you can't help it..." She rested a hand to his shoulder. The act warmed your heart, but anxiety rested in the deep pit of your stomach.

You couldn't place exactly why. I mean, you were all imprisoned. But, really, it was nothing the squad hadn't been in before. This was the kind of anxiety that rushed your veins. The kind that appears out of no where and strikes you.

At this feeling, you stood up to move and sit on Crosshairs right. He wasn't very affectionate in public, but you knew the proximity would ease your nerves.

Your hand gently ran down his arm as you sat, he straightened up at your touch. He was on edge as well.

The small gesture of him spreading his right leg slightly wider, to touch you, made you smile. Even in a cell, he could make you feel at home.

He didn't turn to look at you, but took your hand in his, holding it in his lap.

Just seconds later, a masked group of clones arrived.

"CT-9904, you're coming with us."

"Excuse me?" You stood, Hunter was quicker than you though.

"Oh no no, no. We stay together." The clone immediately rammed the butt of his gun into Hunter's stomach. He doubled over in pain.

"Stand down!" The clone yelled. You still advanced, determined to stick together.

A hand grabbed at your wrist. It was Crosshair, still looking down.

"Stop, you'll just get into more trouble." He then looked up at you. He stood, still holding onto you. Your breath hitched, scared for him. What would the Empire do to him?

"Wait!" You called out, he turned around just before stepping out of the cell.

You leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, somewhat of a 'goodbye.' You could see his face get visibly softer. You pulled him closer for a hug, your face in his neck. "Whatever happens, try to meet us at the Hangar..." You whispered. Only he heard.

He nodded his head at you, then turned to follow the clone. The jail wall went back up.

You watched him walk away, the clones right behind him. "He'll be okay. We'll find a way out." Hunter reassured, a hand on your shoulder.

He was right. You all did find a way out. In an attempt to retrieve everyone's armor, you all rushed to the Hangar. Just before putting your last arm piece on, you stopped. "Where's Crosshair! He should be back by now!" You had hoped he found a way to escape the clones that took him. Looking around again didn't help.

"Tech, power up the ship. The rest of us will go look for Crosshair." Hunter commanded.

No one had a chance to respond, the large doors of the cabin opened to reveal him. He was leading a large squad of troopers.

"Uhh, I don't think we'll have to go far..." Omega spoke.

Your breath hitched, but you weren't scared. Crosshair would never do anything to hurt you. Nor his brothers, right?

"Cross!" You went to meet him, you didn't care about the other clone troopers next to him.

However, Hunter blocked you with his body. You stopped, wary but trusting his extreme senses.

"Best stand down sergeant." Crosshair said, rifle at the ready. "Make it easy on yourself... And your team." He looked you in the eyes, then back to Hunter.

"Have you lost your mind!" Hunter interrogated.

The two of them argued back and forth, though neither side made an official attack.

You were so confused, why would Crosshair turn on everyone. Why would he turn on you? Tears prickled, you placed your helmet on so no one could see.

"Now surrender." Crosshair tried, deep down you didn't think he wanted to injure anyone.

Blast fired everywhere.

Omega covered her head- barred down. You rushed to her, giving her cover. Hunter joined your side, now he was guiding Omega back to the ship.

You, Wrecker, and Echo fought hard, which gave Hunter enough time to usher Omega safely to the ship.

Hunter barely had time to run back out, guns firing, when all the overhead lights went off. The storm outside did nothing to help the lighting.

You crouched down to collect your thoughts, looking through your visor you saw many heat signatures. It was hard to tell who was who, but identified Wrecker by his size and Echo by his arm.

You blasted at the on-coming troopers, distracted by a new wave of them coming in. Someone had called for backup.

A loud scream let you know Wrecker had been shot, you weren't close enough to help him. A glance back showed you Echo and Hunter pulling him to safety.

The second you turned back around the barrel of a gun was pointed at your head. A figure sat inches in front of you, also crouched down.

"Don't say a word." It was Crosshair...

You pushed your helmet off, suddenly desperate for some air. You stared at him with glossy eyes. He wouldn't really shoot you, would he?

"Follow them back to The Marauder. Do not tell a soul I let you." He commanded you, lowering his gun. Was he telling you to escape now?

"Cross, I don't-"

"It's not safe here. You have to run."

"Bu-"

"It is too late for me, but you need to go. Now." When you didn't get up, he raised his rifle at you.

"Go!"

You nodded, shoving your helmet over your head. You wasted no more time as you ran to the ship. Tech closed the ramp and door behind you.

The ship roared off, jumping into hyperspace immediately.

You were left dazed, confused, and heartbroken. How could you lose him so fast?

It had been a long time since you all had to run. Not a day, or night, went by that you didn't think about Crosshair. No matter what he thought about you- he was always going to be your true love.

You could only hope he still felt the same deep down.

While you secretly prayed that you'd run into him again, all your prayers were soon taken up. They shifted to be about Omegas safety, ever since she was physically taken from your arms on Ord Mantell.

They didn't stop until you, Hunter, and Wrecker received a coded message. It contained an abandoned planet's coordinates, sent by 'Lula.' You knew it was Omega, no one else knew about Wreckers (turned Omegas) stuffed doll.

Hunter couldn't fly the ship fast enough, you three soon arrived at the location.

At the sound of another ship landing, Wrecker went to see who it was. Just in case it was some kind of ambush.

Seconds later, you both heard giggles from Omega and laughter from Wrecker.

Hunter looked down at the floor, ashamed.

"Hunter, so see her." You said, resting a friendly hand on his knee.

He was silent for a moment, gaze still down. "What, what if she is ma-"

"Omega loves you, she's not mad at you for anything. Please go see your daughter." You smiled at your own words, and the fact that his face turned red.

He rose and walked out to see her. You followed behind, hugging Omega after she and Hunter had their moment.

"How... how did you escape?" Hunter asked, addressing the elephant in the room.

"I had help." Your smile dimmed, watching the empire ship door closely. A figure walked down, the second you copped a good look- you were running.

A gasp barely had time to leave your mouth, your feet hit the ground in quick strides. You didn't stop until you were met with his body.

He stumbled back, but caught you. Your arms immediately wrapped tightly around him. Like he was going to fade away.

You let out a single sob when his hand lifted to caress your hair, then back. "Cross..."

He didn't say a word, he just squeezed you tight. It told you all you needed to know.

In that moment you forgot all that he did. Heck, you didn't care about any of it. He was here, alive, safe, and not trying to attack anyone.

"I'm sorry.... I'm so, so sorry." He repeated himself, mumbling apologies over and over.

You pulled away, forcing his forehead down to touch yours. "Shut up." You silenced him with a kiss, your eyes closed.

It was an awkward few hours on The Marauder. Wrecker and Hunter were still wary on Crosshair. Truth be told, they had a right to be. Omega defended him when she could, but everyone needed to accept the change on their own time.

That Crosshair's days with the Empire was now in the past.

Omega soon fell asleep on Hunter, you could tell she needed a good nights sleep. One where she wasn't constantly looking over her shoulder, or scared someone would come in her sleeping quarters.

As Hunter put her to bed, Wrecker found himself on the verge of sleep too. He headed to one of the two cots hidden in the back.

"Hunter, go to bed." You gently suggested.

"You sure you'll be okay?" He eyed Crosshair, still not trusting.

"I'm a big girl Hunter. Plus, I don't think Cross would be dumb enough to go against all of us with no weapons." You tried to joke, but the tension was so thick you could cut it. Both men raised an eyebrow at you.

You sighed, "Go to bed. I'm fine, really." He nodded and headed off. That left you and Crosshair alone in the cockpit.

It was quiet for a minute, both of you were scared to speak first. It was all so... real, so serious all of a sudden.

"How bad was it?" You asked, turned away from him on purpose.

"Worse than you can imagine." He didn't mean to, but he broke your heart at his words.

You turned to face him, quickly taking note of how his hand shook. You looked from his hand to his face, he tried to hide it.

"Uhm, I guess i'll take the first watch if you want to get some rest." You were so uncomfortable. There was an unspoken thought dancing around the room. While you wanted to kiss and hold him, there was a weird air that surrounded you both. It made you question every move, like it was your first date all over again.

"Right..." Was all he could muster. He was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

He bit this fear back with his next words. "I wish, I wish I could go back. Do things... differently."

"I know. Me too." You tried to meet his gaze, but he stared at the wall.

You were tired of this. What happened to the two of you?

"Crosshair."

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong."

He stared.

"Cross, if you don't love me anymore just tell me. Don't beat around the bush."

This made him snap his head at you. "What? You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really? Because after I kissed you, you haven't touched me! We used to tell each other everything, now we can't hold simple conversation! I Know a lot happened, I am so sorry you went through what you did. It shatters me just thinking about you getting hurt... but please, talk to me." You pleaded.

He grunted and sat up straight. "You deserve someone better! That's why. Because you shouldn't want to be with someone who turned on his brothers. Who abandoned his team. Who tried to kill the person he loved most. Maybe I should stop beating around the bush, you'll realize what I really am. Disposable."

You blinked up at him, heart beating fast. You didn't know what to say.

Crosshair 'humphed' and slouched back in his chair.

You rose to your feet, standing in front of him. You took his shaking hand in yours. "The man I love came back. He saved Omega. I know deep down you are the same Crosshair I fell in love with. The man that, even when controlled by an inhibitor chip, managed to let me run free. You could have killed me, that's what the chip told you to do... but, you didn't. Crosshair, I won't- I can't blame you for doing anything under the control of your chip."

"I did awful things after that chip was taken out..." He still thought he was unworthy, trying to make you agree.

"You can't push me away. You can't push away the people who love you." You still held his shaking hand in yours, raising your other to rest on his cheek.

"I forgive you... I truly do. I know it will be a long time until you forgive yourself, but I will be right here when you do. The guys will come around, just wait. I promise everything will be okay."

He closed his eyes, leaning into your palm. You moved down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. At his, he rested his hands on your hips and pulled you to his lap.

You curled yourself up, finally feeling that warm comfort you always felt in him.

You kiss him again, slowly this time.

"I'll do better..." He croaked.

"I know you will."

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I have fr been sick for a whole week, like give me a break, body! When I am feeling 100% I will come back and fix any grammatical errors. Thank you for your patience and understanding!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[danaewrites]

you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes)

part i: and while you were asleep, i was surely awake

james potter x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 2.8k

summary: “Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.”

tags: best friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, based on the song "dear arkansas daughter" by lady lamb, fem!reader

author's notes: hii y'all, sorry for not posting in a year :P my only excuse is that i didn't feel like taking the energy to actually write out my story ideas. also perfectionism. anyway i somehow wrote this in two hours while procrastinating my college app essays and have plans to make this a multi-chapter fic despite intending to write an angsty oneshot request for a completely different fandom (i see you, beloved anons, and i raise you this completely unrelated fic <3)… the brain of a writer works in mysterious ways.

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii (coming soon!)

You were in love with James Potter.

It was a fact of life, just like how the sky was blue, or that his favorite dessert was treacle tart, or that you were the only person he’d ever let see him cry besides his mother. You’d loved him from the moment you met him on the train to Hogwarts as a shy, anxious muggleborn unsure of the new world of magic and prejudice you’d been thrown into without so much as a warning. He hadn’t cared at all about your blood status- didn’t even think to ask about it. He had launched himself into your compartment and began talking at you a mile a minute, beaming with every tooth showing once he found out you were hoping to get into Gryffindor, his hazel eyes alight with the joy of making a new friend. And friends indeed you had become; you were proud to remember that you’d known him before Sirius or Remus or Peter did, though it took only an instant after the Sorting for him to become best mates with the rest of them, too.

You and James were inseparable from that moment on, giggling at Professor Binns’ failure to notice Sirius’ antics in the back of class and reassuring each other when home seemed too far away for comfort. He stole sweets from the Slytherin table for you at meals, and you covered for him when the teachers almost caught him pranking Snape– after all, who would believe that sweet, innocent Y/n would ever be involved in such shenanigans? The soft-spoken demeanor and love of everything pastel you’d thought would eventually oust you from the close-knit Gryffindor boys’ group proved to be quite the useful asset when affirming their ‘innocence’.

Not that they only wanted you around because you were helpful, of course. You had quite the talent for exaggerating stories until even Sirius fell off his seat laughing in disbelief, and your creative mind made for some glorious pranks and entertaining mistakes. Peter would blush for an hour straight if anyone mentioned The Great Plum Pudding Incident of Christmas 1974, all thanks to your clever meddling. And Remus– well, he was eternally grateful for your mother-henning during the worst of his moon cycles. You’d been the first to figure out his “furry little problem”, and upon learning that enjoying chocolate was his favorite method of escapism, showed up every month without fail with an armful of Honeydukes sweets. The little ways in which you loved each Marauder meant the world to them. They would do anything to protect you and make sure you were okay, James most of all. You often teased James that he was more bodyguard than friend, with his deep glares at too-forward Hufflepuff boys masking the big softie you knew he was underneath. You remembered fondly the summer days he spent chasing you around your house, scaring your mother half to death with his colander-and-pot ‘armor’ as he declared that as a chivalrous knight, he was meant to save Princess Y/n from the terrible Acromantula King. Privately, you thought James had a few too many Arthurian legends for bedtime stories as a child, but what could you do?

Even now, as sixth years, the bond between you and James never changed, your love for him ever-growing. Your heart melted every time you glanced over your shoulder in the hallway, only to find him chatting softly with a sniffling first-year and guiding them to Professor Sprout’s office for a hot cuppa and a biscuit. You cheered at his Quidditch victories and were euphorically lifted up onto his broad shoulders afterward, whooping as he galavanted through the common room in celebration. You were there when he needed a shoulder to cry on when his grandfather died, softly stroking his hair as he fell asleep in your lap with tear tracks still running down his face. And he adored you in return– braiding your hair while you worked on Herbology essays, racing you on his beloved broom when you stayed with him during the summer, distracting you from your rants about Slughorn’s unfair grading with a trip to the kitchens and a blissfully soft blanket.

James was your lifeline and you his– and nothing in the world could change that.

Except, perhaps, one tiny little complication. A complication with vibrant red hair, sparkling green eyes, and a natural affinity for Potions. A complication that had sparked your jealousy since the first time you noticed James glancing dreamily at Lily Evans in second year Transfiguration, jealousy that had only gotten worse with his grand declarations of love every week. He’d begun to announce his affection for the muggleborn to anyone who would listen in third year, and it didn’t stop there. No, when James Potter loved someone, he loved hard, and that meant that you had to watch as beautiful bouquets appeared on Lily’s nightstand nightly while the rest of the girls in your dorm whispered and swooned. You were a wallflower when he sighed about how lovely her skin was and how bloody talented she was at everything she did during one of your late-night chats in the common room, curling in on yourself with every word he spoke. When he asked her to Hogsmeade the first time (and the second, and the third, and the fiftieth), you observed as she rolled her eyes and shoved past him, despite the small smile on her face.

It wasn’t that Lily wasn’t smart or pretty or talented– far from it. She deserved every good Potions grade she got, and even the pureblood Slytherins begrudgingly noted how she was the darling of Hogwarts society. But you thought that the way she treated your best friend, refusing his advances quite harshly but sending him flirtatious glances and making a show of wearing his flowers in her hair, was rather unkind and misleading. She had James wrapped around her little finger and didn’t seem to want to let go of his attention anytime soon, despite Snape’s protests about how much time he was spending with her. You disliked Severus, but didn’t think he deserved Lily’s bad treatment either. Sometimes you’d see him staring at James and Lily deep in conversation, and shoot him a glance of communal disappointment– before realizing who you were sharing the moment with and resuming an expression of disgust, at least.

At first, you ignored your growing angst about his new obsession, chalking it up to sleep deprivation, stress over your upcoming exams, and even your monthly. But when you started to run out of excuses for the despair slowly overtaking your heart and flashes of his dark curls began to appear in your sweetest dreams, you were forced to admit that your feelings for James ran much deeper than a platonic friendship. From the way he spun you around in the snow to the way he snorted at Remus’ awful puns, you were head-over-heels smitten with your best friend.

The way he’d filled out since the end of fourth year hadn’t escaped your notice, either; you were pretty sure that his pecs should be considered a traffic hazard, with the way you’d fallen flat on your face after seeing him shirtless after a match. He’d rushed over to clean up every one of your injuries, of course, with a touch so gentle it released a whole menagerie of butterflies in your stomach. You’d barely managed to mumble a coherent thank-you before sprinting to take a very cold shower and scream into your pillow with embarrassment. How on earth did Lily Evans even think around him?!

Alas, you’d read your fair share of romance novels, and you knew how this story would end. Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.

That was the state Sirius found you in, broody and lost in thought in a quiet corner of the library. He grinned rakishly, planting a well-polished boot on a nearby chair and leaning over to tap your forehead. “Lots going on in there today, huh?”

You snapped out of your daze and smiled sheepishly up at him. “Sorry, Siri, didn’t mean to ignore you. Just, er, thinking about my Potions essay, do you know how many uses there are for mandelwort? Quite fascinating plants, hones–”

Sirius winced and slid back far across the table. “Oh, no, you are not discussing horrid Potions work with me today when there are so many other wonderful topics.” He gestured to a table of swooning fifth-years gazing dreamily at his backside. “For example, those lovely ladies,” he crooned, sending an exaggerated wink towards them and smirking when they sighed.

You wrinkled your nose and scoffed. “Oh, please, as if I haven’t heard enough about your conquests already. I’m already scarred for life from your stories about that Belgium Veela, let alone the muggle sailor you nearly broke the Statute of Secrecy for.”

He waved a hand, dismissing your allegations of the mental injury caused by his excruciating attention to sordid detail when slightly tipsy in the common room. You made a mental note to charm his shampoo to turn his hair bright lavender for the next week for that little snub. Although, being Sirius, he’d probably just use it as an excuse to sway the rest of the Hogwarts population into going to Hogsmeade with him. “Ah, but darling Y/n, that’s what I’m here for!” He furrowed his brow and stroked his chin in mock consideration. “However, I can’t seem to recall a time when you–” here he poked you in the cheek for emphasis– “confessed to a little tete-a-tete in the hallway. Ever. Which means we have a problem,” he grinned.

You felt rather like prey being hunted for sport. “That would be because I’m not interested in anyone, you dolt!” Crossing your arms, you turned your face back towards your homework. Maybe if you denied romantic interest for long enough, Sirius would leave you alone and go flounce off to flirt with the noisy table of fourth years. “Anyway, I heard Marlene’s been circling Dorcas like a lovesick pigeon lately, so perhaps you should be putting your matchmaking efforts to her benefit instead.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “C’mon doll, I know you weren’t actually thinking about Potions when I arrived. Who’s the lead actor in those fantasies, mm?” He snatched up your favorite pink gel pen, twirling around his fingers as he looked at you expectantly.

Drat. He wouldn’t be so easily distracted with the latest gossip. You opened your mouth to protest yet again when you caught a flash of red over Sirius’ artfully tousled locks. You watched as James strode up to the alcove where Lily and her friends were studying, transfigured a sheet of parchment into a butterfly clip and held it out to her with a grin. Her laughter pealed out through the library as she let him lean over her shoulder to place it in her hair. He seemed oblivious to the titters of the girls around him while he gazed at Lily adoringly. You felt your heart clench as you recognized the expression on his face; you’d seen it on your own in the mirror after spending time with James, after all. And it seemed like maybe Lily was finally starting to be swayed into accepting his starry-eyed proposals, if the pretty blush on her cheeks was anything to go by.

Sirius tracked your despairing gaze to the couple and immediately paled in realization. “Oh, shit.”

Shit, indeed. Your face turned bright red as you scrambled to pack your bag and leave the area as fast as you possibly could, not sure how you could face Sirius knowing your deepest secret now. The boy had no self-control, fueling the Hogwarts gossip mill with the wild stories he overheard, and he had even less discretion when confessing things to his friends around the common room fire. It’s no wonder he wound up in Gryffindor, you thought miserably. There’s no way he’d be able to keep a secret like the rest of the Slytherins, and definitely not from James. It would only be a matter of time before he let it slip about your feelings to the rest of the Marauders, and— well, you’d just have to face losing your best friend for good once he heard.

Sirius broke your train of thought by wrapping his hands around yours, looking up at you with concern. “Hey, doll, wait— I didn’t know—“

You sniffed and wiped the tears threatening to fall from your eyes away fiercely. “That’s exactly it, Sirius, you didn’t know because you won’t be able to keep it from James.”

He looked guiltily down at the table. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit of a git with keeping things private lately, yeah?”

You nodded, covering your face with your hands. Sirius reached out, placing them back down on the table, and softly said, “Listen, I shouldn’t have pried so hard. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” He broke off, pausing to scramble for a handkerchief from his bag to wipe off your rapidly disintegrating mascara. “And I promise not to breathe a word of this to James,” he finished.

You looked up at him, startled. “Are you serious?” At his answering grin, you groaned. “Don’t answer that. But really, are you sure that you’ll be able to resist telling him everything?” You fiddled with the now-soiled handkerchief and whispered, “You two are so close, I don’t want to drive you apart. If James thought you were hiding something important from him, it would destroy him,” you sniffed.

He frowned. “Doll, you know you’re just as important as James is to me, right?” At your answering slump, his jaw clenched and he continued on with more intensity. “You’re like my sister, Y/n, there’s nothing you could do to make me care for you less. Especially not asking for your privacy. Clearly, I haven’t been treating you as well as you deserve if you doubt that.”

He walked around and took a seat in the armchair next to you, pulling you in to lean on his shoulder. “And I can be discreet, you know. I might not show it often, but growing up in a family of the most intensely secretive purebloods ever to exist taught me a few things.” You glanced at him doubtfully, the tiny quirk of your mouth the only sign that you were joking. “Hey, I’m being serious!” He laughed, then quieted suddenly. “This thing with James— you really love him, don’t you?”

You gave him an exasperated look out of the corner of your eye. Sirius released a breath and gazed deeply into the space in front of him. “Hey, we’ll figure this out together, okay?” He poked you in the side. “If he’s too focused on the smell of Evans’ hair or whatever to see that he already has the perfect girl in front of him, he’s not as smart as you think he is.” You giggled slightly, his words warming you. Sirius smiled, happy to see you cheering up a bit.

“Why don’t we go raid the kitchens? The coolest person I know once told me that elf-crafted mint chocolate chip ice cream is the best way to heal a broken heart,” he teased. You groaned, remembering how you’d told him that as a last resort to get him to stop complaining about how he missed his sailor ex-boyfriend every time you two went to Hogsmeade. At least your random advice wound up benefiting you now, you thought as you collected the last of your stationery and exited the library.

Neither you nor Sirius saw how James watched you smile up at Sirius as you walked away, holding his arm and laughing loudly at something he muttered. Anna Dumotier, a Hufflepuff fifth-year and one of Lily’s friends, would remember later that night how he seemed to tune out Lily’s voice for a moment and stared at the doors to the library with a strange expression on his face. His brows were furrowed like he was trying to decipher the answer to an unfamiliar puzzle, his eyes widened with confusion and a glint of something she could only identify as jealousy before Lily brought him back to the conversation with a graceful flip of her hair. But no— she shook her head— that couldn’t be right. What could James possibly be jealous of when he finally had the girl of his dreams in his arms?

taglist: @magpiencrow @that-kid143 @lilly-aliyah @itmustbegreattobecalledtheitgirl

comment if you'd like to be tagged for any of my works/fandoms in the future! :)

read on: part ii

[zoeykallus]

Hm? *gets hit in the face with a note* GAH- *opens the note* another request? But it’s with- *ahem* “I request Reader x Crosshair but make it with Pheromones please-” Oh no…

Aloha!

You are getting a lot of those notes, aren't you? 😁 Well, as it happens, I actually have an idea for a scenario like this, I'm telling you I gathered the wildest ideas in my fever dreams 😅

Crosshair x Fem!Reader One-shot -

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Warnings: 'Good old' Pollen Trope/ Smut/ 18+/ Bondage/ Dubious Consent/PiV Sex/ Dirty Talk/ Strong Language/ Oral/ Feral Crosshair/ Graphic Description Of Sexual Actions/Overstimulating

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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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AC: I feel like I've not written anything like this in years. Which of course isn't true, but it still feels like it. But I think I like what came out of this.

Crosshair keeps sneezing as you make your way back from your little expedition. The rest of the group is on an errand with Rex and his shuttle. You and Crosshair have stayed behind. Curiosity has driven you into the surrounding landscape of the Marauders' landing site. Even though Crosshair has no interest in the surrounding flora and fauna, he reluctantly came along, saying, "I guess I can't let you go off on your own. If anything happens to you, I will never hear the end of it when the others come back" You take off your gear when you get back, at least the things you don't need at the moment, as he sneezes again. Crosshair sighs and rubs his temples. You frown critically and say, "You should have used an air filter, like me" "Nonsense," he grumbles. "Well, I don't have to sneeze," you reply, shrugging your shoulders. He rolls his eyes and waves you off. "Just some pollen, nothing more, it'll be over in a minute" You pick up your data pad and say, "Some pollen can be dangerous, Cross"

When you call him by the pet name you're the only one to use, he rolls his eyes again, but he doesn't complain. He doesn't want to admit it, but somehow he likes that you've given him a nickname. It shows that you like him, and he likes the idea, but he won't admit that either. You browse through some information about the planet, especially the fauna, and suddenly stop. Something you've discovered makes you nervous. "See," he says contentedly, "it's stopped already, I don't have to sneeze anymore, it's all half as bad" When you don't answer, he turns back to you after taking off his armor. "Since when are you so quiet?" Again, you don't answer, you're engrossed in the information about a particular plant you've found. "Hey, Kitten," he says impatiently, "are you even listening to me?" You look up and ask him critically, "Why did you take off your armor? It's the middle of the day" Crosshair shrugs and says, "It's warm in here, and it's more comfortable without it" You say critically, "I don't think it's warm in here" He grumbles, "Well, I do"

"Any other symptoms?" you ask, a little alarmed. Crosshair reaches for your holopad, takes it from your hand, and skims the article you've just read. Depending on the amount of pollen inhaled...Heat flushes, sneezing, headache, followed by extremely increased libido, sexual desire bordering on animalistic proportions, loss of control... High probability of becoming a danger to yourself and those around you. If left untreated, the condition ends in extremely high fever, which can lead to brain damage or even death. No medical treatment options. Only treatment option is sexual relief (sexual intercourse/sexual acts that lead to repeated orgasms) "What the hell are you reading? Is that a guide to one of those dirty little stories you sometimes write?" Startled, you stare at him. "What?" Crosshair smirks, shrugging his shoulders in a suggestive manner. "Well, you fell asleep writing the other day and your pad was still on, just lying there. I took a quick look over it. It was pretty clear quickly what you were writing" You feel hot and cold, you're not sure exactly how much he's read, and you wonder if he realizes that you're imagining him as you write. But another thought outweighs your shame, your worry.

You scroll back up a bit on the pad that's still in his hands, point to the picture of a flower and say, "No, that's an article about this plant. We walked through a field of these flowers earlier while you weren't using an air filter. You're already showing symptoms" Crosshair blinks, skims the text again. "Oh," he says quietly. He tosses the holopad onto your bunk, rubs his temples again and looks around. He can feel it now, slowly at first, gradually but steadily increasing. His body temperature is getting higher, his thoughts are getting mixed up, there is a penetrating buzzing behind his temples, and there is clearly a very physical desire. "I need you to cuff me, for your safety. Where are my handcuffs?" Crosshair hears a click, then feels cold metal. You've cuffed his own wrist and chained him to the weapon rack. "I'm ahead of you," you say softly. "Clever girl. But that won't be enough. You have to tie me up properly"

„Properly?“, you ask, frowning.

Crosshair nods and says, "Yeah, I can open handcuffs without a key if I have one hand free" You mumble with a grin, "Sneaky bastard" "Shut up, kitten," he says calmly, with a little smirk, pointing to the other bunks, "Better find something to tie me up before the symptoms get worse" Unsure, you go to the drawers and side compartments of the other bunks. You find some more handcuffs and chain his other wrist to the weapon rack on the wall. Crosshair groans softly, a bulge has already formed in his Black's pants. He is far too warm in his skin and his cock is as hard as a diamond.

For a second you just look at him, his slender, wiry but stealed figure chained to the weapons rack at the wall. His shoulders down to his hips forming an apetizing V-line. "Okay, so far so good," he says tensely, "But that's not enough" You frown, but finally get two more cable ties and tie his legs to the frame on the wall. Crosshair stands there, as if nailed to a cross or pilloried, except that it is a weapon rack that is firmly anchored to the wall. "Fuck," he moans softly. Automatically, he writhes in his restraints, his clothes, the pants of his Blacks rubbing over his hard cock, eliciting another soft moan. He is extremely sensitive at the moment.

"But what now?" you ask anxiously, straining not to look down between his legs. "I can't hurt anyone now," Crosshair says and swallows. He means you, he can't hurt you now, he can't do anything against your will, you realize. "But... We have to do something, you could die or suffer permanent damage from this condition," you say nervously. You can see that he can barely think straight, that he would love to tear himself away if he could. But he smiles at you and says, "You're not worried about me, are you?" "Of course I'm worried", you say, almost indignant he might question this. He licks his lips, his mind a jumble of images of nudity, physical contact, of him sinking his cock inside you, in pretty much any of your holes that would do. Crosshair blinks a few times, trying to collect himself. "Well, you can help me now, but on your terms. I can't force you to do anything, that was important to me. Hence, the shackles. It was clear to both of us long ago that I still need your help now. Unless you want me to die, or my mind to turn in to a vegetable" Heat rises in your cheeks. You've imagined being with him so many times, but not like this.

He laughs softly as a drop of sweat rolls off his forehead. "Now you can live out some of the fantasies you love to write about. Honestly, I always knew you had a naughty spirit in you" The thought, the question of how much he has really read of your stories and perhaps even diary entries that are on the same data pad, comes to mind. You swallow and look at him, chained there. Your gaze does wander down to the enormous bulge in his blacks. You hear him purr, "Okay kitten, your attention is already going in the right direction" He strains against his restraints, automatically wanting to reach for you, but to no avail. A small frustrated growl comes out of his throat as he realizes once again that he is not able to touch you right now. No matter what you do now, no matter what you're both about to do, this isn't going to be romantic, nothing loving, that much you both realize. But contrary to your expectations, the thought doesn't repel you, actually, there's something appealingly wicked about it. As you sink to your knees in front of him, a shiver runs through his body in aroused anticipation. He can barely move, only his pelvis has a little room to move forward, and he stretches out towards you in invitation. "Be a good girl, help me"

You look up at him uncertainly, in his gaze you not only find confirmation of what you are about to do, it is a feverishly hot gaze, full of expectation and challenge with which Crosshair looks down at you. You reach for the waistband of his Blacks' pants and slowly pull them down. As the fabric brushes over his skin, over his hard cock as you free it, he trembles excitedly. It stands right in front of your face, thick, veiny, with a slightly reddened, swollen tip. His testicles are bulging. His cock twitches with every breath you take, because he can feel every waft of air. "Do it," he demands in a smoky voice, his eyes glazed over with desire, "suck me good" You wonder how he would talk to you at a moment like this if he wasn't under the influence of the pollen, but only for a second. You've always been curious about a sexual encounter with Crosshair, and his cock looks gorgeous. Your hand reaches for it automatically, and you're almost shocked at how red-hot it feels. His temperature is rising, no time to hesitate. Your tongue twitches over his velvety, swollen tip, catching a salty drop of pre-cum. "Fuck," Crosshair growls, his pelvis twitching, "come on, kitten, it's getting unbearably hot under my skin"

You don't think about it for long. Your lips open, your tongue outstretched, pressed against the underside of his cock, you take him into your mouth. Your head moves back and forth, bobbing back and forth with his cock between your lips. At first, you're so far back that, despite his relative freedom of movement with his pelvis, he has no control over how deep he penetrates your mouth. But it feels surprisingly wonderful, the sounds he makes, moaning, growling, whimpering. You can feel your panties getting wet and a tingling sensation between your thighs. Your pearl swells, pulsating gently at first, but demanding, longing to be touched, stimulated. On impulse, you move closer, giving him more room to move. As soon as he realizes that he can penetrate deeper on his own, he greedily pushes his cock deeper into your mouth, down your throat, almost to the hilt. Your eyes immediately start to water, but you don't pull back, you let him have his way with your mouth. He pulls his pelvis back and forth, thrusting deep again and again until your face is wet with tears and saliva drips from your chin because you can't swallow everything around his thick cock. Crosshair stares down at you, his gaze full of fire, glassy and dark.

He gasps excitedly, "I knew there was a dirty thing somewhere inside you, look at you eagerly sucking my cock. I wish I could record this, so I could watch it over and over again, how perfect this image looks" You don't have the time or the opportunity to object, nor do you want to. Your hand automatically slips into your pants and under the fabric of your panties. You can feel the heat emanating from your pubic area on your fingertips even before you touch your clit. There it is, finally, the touch, a shiver runs through your body. The touch your pearl has been longing for. Your fingertips glide over the sensitive bundle of nerves, faster and faster, as Crosshair's cock pushes up to the gag reflex again and again. You keep sucking at him, almost hungrily, like there is no tomorrow. Crosshair fucks your mouth restlessly, his pelvis shaking with every thrust, his arms tugging at the handcuffs again and again. Then he sees your hand in your pants, something about the sight pulls him over the edge, with a low growl, he spurts his load down your throat. You swallow hastily as he leaves your mouth and take a deep breath.

"A good little dirty thing you are. Look at you, not only did you suck my cock like an addict, you touched yourself" His gaze is still glassy, feverish, full of heat, a dangerous, knowing grin on his face. "Untie me, kitten, and I'll give you what your little pussy needs," he coos. His words roll over your skin and down into your pussy, where they trigger a pulsing, demanding twitch. Contrary to any fear or uncertainty about his condition, you cut the cable ties on his ankles. Then you grab the key for the handcuffs, you hesitate only briefly, barely noticeably, but then you unlock the handcuffs. You don't even have time to be surprised. Crosshair immediately peels you out of your clothes, partially tearing them as he loses his patience. He pushes you towards the bunk in front of you until you automatically climb onto it on all fours to avoid falling over. "That's it, keep sticking your gorgeous ass up, show me your little pussy," he growls in a smoky voice.

With the flat of his hand, he gives you a gentle pat between your legs. "There it is," he coos contentedly, "soft, warm and wet" One of his fingers slides along your velvety folds to your heated opening and sinks greedily inside. You moan as he sinks a second finger between your slick walls. "You're hungry for my cock, aren't you?" You moan a yes as you thrust your buttocks towards him. All you hear from him in response is a growl. You feel him pull his fingers from you and as you look over your shoulder, you see him licking your juices from his knuckles. "Actually, I'd love to lick your little honey pot, but I just can't wait, I can't," Crosshair says a little breathlessly as he parts your wet folds with his tip and with a smooth thrust fills your pussy to the brim with his cock. The sensation is intense, his hard, thick length filling you up, stretching your wet hole.

His fingers claw into your hips, not exactly gently, as he begins to move, pulling his pelvis back only to thrust into you again. He moans and curses, the feel of your wet heat enveloping him so incredibly intense, his cock so incredibly, unusually sensitive. His grip, his nails, are sure to leave a mark, but you're far too horny to mind. His thrusts are short, he never pulls far out of you, but he thrusts into you quickly, panting, clutching at you. His pelvis slaps your backside again and again, the sound fills the room, accompanied by moans, growls, whimpers. Crosshair doesn't feel like his temperature is dropping, he's more in control than he expected, but his hunger hasn't abated one bit. He growls, gives you a slap on the ass and murmurs, "You like that, you've always wanted my cock inside you" You are so lost in your excitement that at first you don't even realize what he is saying. When you don't answer immediately, he grabs your neck and pulls you towards him so that the back of your head is against his shoulder.

"Say it!" he growls, his hand still on your neck. Crosshair doesn't really squeeze, just applies enough pressure to make it clear that he wants your attention. "What?" you ask hoarsely, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you again and again taking over your entire mind. "You've always wanted my cock inside you. Say it! I want to hear it," he moans urgently. You gasp. "Fuck. Yes, I've always wanted your cock inside me, deep inside me," you croak, moaning. You yelp as he gives you a particularly hard, deep thrust and pauses in this position for a few seconds. His thighs tremble for a moment, a half-suppressed moan comes from his throat, then you feel his semen shoot into you. You're both breathing heavily, Crosshair growls softly. "Still feverish, still hard, I guess I'll have to make your wet dreams come true a little longer"

He pushes you off him, onto the bunk you're kneeling on, and turns you around, gripping your hips. Crosshair grabs the back of your knees to hold your legs up and apart. The next second, he's thrusting his cock into you again, accompanied by the dirty, wet sound his hard length makes in your pussy filled with your juices and his seed. Each thrust makes that lewd, wet sound, you feel his seed and your juices partially dripping out of you, onto your buns and onto the sheet beneath you. After all, you're in your own bunk. But this fact startles you all the more as Crosshair reaches purposefully to his right and pulls open a small drawer. He pulls out a small object and grins with satisfaction. "I knew you had toys here, I heard them vibrating under your blanket the other night" He moves his cock slowly inside you as he looks at the toy, and the heat of shame rises in your face. "What exactly does that thing do?" he wants to know, his gaze fascinated but still feverish, glassy. You swallow and say meekly, "It sucks the clitoris into this little opening and vibrates as it does so"

He raises his eyebrows and looks past the toy at you. "Is that good?" "My favorite toy," you say, still meekly. He looks down, positions the toy so that it can suck your clit perfectly and turns it on, turning the power up quite high. The toy sucks in your clit and vibrates on the sensitive bundle of nerves, immediately sending a pulse through your whole body. You let out a startled squeak. In combination with his thick cock inside you, the additional stimulation from the toy is very intense. Your hands claw into the mattress and sheets as he starts to thrust into you again. "Fuuuuck," you moan out. Crosshair takes you again faster, harder and growls, "That's more like it"

Your mind dissolves into nothing, the thought of how he sees you right now, that he knows about the toy, that he knows you've been secretly masturbating here under the covers, all swept away in one swoop. The stimulation is too intense, your whole body vibrates, trembles, tenses with arousal. "You're close," he moans, realizing, "I can feel your sweet pussy contracting" The stimulation, his words, the sound of his voice, all at once your climax washes you over the edge, and you fall into a pulsating tangle of over-stimulation. Automatically, you want to reach for the toy to remove it, but Crosshair's hands shoot forward, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. "Fuck! Crosshair, that's too much, the toy!" you gasp breathlessly, twitching and writhing, the sensation far too intense.

He pushes himself deeper into your lap, takes you faster, with shorter, firmer thrusts. He stares at you, something about the way you squirm and twitch, the thought that you are helplessly at the mercy of this over-stimulation turns him on. It doesn't take long, his thrusts become irregular, his lap trembles between your twitching thighs, and he cums inside you again. You're still whimpering and squirming, finally he lets go of you, and before you can remove it, Crosshair releases you from the toy. You breathe heavily, sighing with relief. You look up, his gaze no longer glassy and feverish, more scrutinizing, brooding, as you know him to be. "Sorry," he says, shrugging his shoulders, "but it was incredibly hot to have you under me while you were twitching under the over-stimulation, one hell of a turn on." You roll your eyes and sigh, "I'm glad you enjoyed it" "You had your fun too, didn't you?" he growls sarcastically, "Or did you just get me untied to see what would happen?"

You can almost feel an argument brewing, but you don't want to argue, especially not now. You try to distract him. "How are you feeling now? Headache, fever?" Crosshair senses that you're trying to avoid the discussion, but he answers you anyway, "I'm fine, I think, no fever, no headache, no other symptoms either." You nod, climb out of the bunk and say, "Good, I need to use the refresher for a while, I need to clean myself up" But Crosshair blocks your path to the refresher. You hastily grab your bathrobe and put it on as you realize you're both still naked. "You haven't answered me yet," he says stubbornly. "What?" "Whether you had fun"

You clear your throat and say, "I had an orgasm, if that's what you mean" Crosshair frowns. "No, that's not what I meant, at least not exclusively." You lick your lips and avoid his gaze, but he gently but firmly grabs your chin, yet your eyes continue to avoid his. "Kitten? Look at me." His voice sounds so unusually gentle that you automatically look at him. "I just want to be sure that I didn't overstep any boundaries and that you didn't come away unsatisfied, as you know I didn't really have complete control over what happened." You look at him wide-eyed, then feel heat rising in your cheeks as you say meekly, "I had more fun than I want to admit"

A smile creeps onto his face. "I knew that. Good girl. Come on now, let us go wash you" You raise your eyebrows questioningly. "Us?" Crosshair grabs your hand and pulls you into the refresher with him. He winks at you, "We made the mess together, so let's remove it together. Come on, don't act like you don't want to be sponge-washed by me"

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[sorya-lee]

Ephemeral.

HunterxTraitorJedi!Reader

Genre : Fluff with a sprinkle of angst.

Warnings : Order 66 innuendos, non-spoken feelings, mutual pining

Summary : You're a Jedi who betrayed the Republic and the Council but you're still working for them, waiting for the right moment, the wake up call of your master. Lost deeply in your thoughts and worries, a certain Sergeant had decided to distract you.

This one-shot was inspired by my own OC story.

It was one of this day, another mission in this never ending war. You knew things were going to change soon but you didn't know if it was for the best. You were scared to say the least but confident or you're trying to be. Because there is no going back. Not after all the sacrifices and the price was too beautiful to let it go now. Your suffering, your anger, your pain, it could never be repairable. And the Jedi Order had to pay the consequences of their pride and blindness that you could not stand anymore.

You were deep lost in your thoughts, it seems like you were meditating, your back leaning against the cold metal wall of the Marauder, the ship of your own squad. You were a particular Jedi and that's why special forces were assigned to you. You weren't particularly fond of taking back a new squad of clones after what happened to Foxtrot Group at Sarrish. But Clone Force 99 grew on you and you already like clones on the other hand. But this squad take the cake, they were all so unique and special. Effective in battle and incredibly funny out of field.

If there is one clone that you were particularly fond of was Hunter. The leader of your squad and your subordinate. You didn't know if it was because of the chain of command but you had an interesting understanding of eachother. But it was a forbidden bond, you sense in the Force that that attraction was more than a General to a Sergeant relationship. You were pining for eachother, hard.

Hunter was the little ray of sunshine in your life. The war, the Jedi Council, the conspiracy... Your life was clouded and a storm was brewing, nothing very joyful or peaceful had happened in a long time. That's why it was maybe easier to let Hunter in your life, turning your heart and your mind upside down without naming what was this feeling properly. After all, we were at war and you weren't selfish enough to make him suffer with your future actions, yet. It was too late for that.

You were lost deep in your thoughts and worries when a gently nudge at your shoulder interrupted you. You lift your head and open your eyes to meet the brown ones of your Sergeant. You smile slightly to hide whatever you were feeling moments before, something like pain and anger. You raised an inquiry eyebrow inviting him to speak.

"Sorry to interrupt you General." He apologized soflty, his deep low voice even more deeper because of his tone that could be misinterpreted as a whisper. "You should head to sleep we had a long day."

Your smile grew wider in a thin line. Hunter, always worrying for you, even if you were a trained and capable Jedi.

"Are you trying to boss me around Sergeant?" You asked, teasing evident in your voice. You also could sensed in the Force that Hunter's energy was different than usual, he was also tired, even more than you.

"I wouldn't dream of it General." He answered simply. You put a firm hand on his left shoulder, you were about to invite him to go to sleep as well but you felt something else in the Force. Ah, there it is. This strong bond between the two of you, hidden deep in your respective fatigue. Your hand slipped from his armored shoulder to his black, you felt him shivered at the unexpected caress, but you didn't stop. You didn't know what's had gotten into you but in a way it's a thing that you had to cling to. To feel safe and alive. Away from the tourments that you were causing to yourself.

Your eyes were scanning each of his expressions. His eyes go from your hand to your eyes, to your lips and that's when you shivered yourself. The only idea that Hunter's lips could be on yours was a very dark and intoxicating temptation because it was forbidden for both of you. Your hand leave his black to his exposed skin, his neck. The contact of your skin against his in such a unusual place sent you spiralling and you were sure it was the same for Hunter because his eyes closed briefly, he swallowed hard and took a deep breath as if he had to steady himself.

Your eyes softened and you tilted your head. Your hand didn't continue on his face as he would have expected. No. It slipped behind his neck to his scalp and his locks. They're a mess because of the mission of today despite his helmet encaging it. But it didn't stop your from scratching his scalp tenderly and intertwining your fingers with his locks. He closed his eyes because of your tender touch, something he wasn't used for from anyone. He never knew the tenderness of a mother touch and do not count on his brothers to give that kind of touch...

You broke the silence after a minute. "I... We should go to sleep." You said with regrets in your voice not wanting to stop at all what was going on right now. But you couldn't take the chance to be caught by his brothers either. Lucky for you both, Crosshair was cleaning his rifle, Tech was piloting and Wrecker was sound asleep but you couldn't just stand in the corridor like this.

Hunter's heightened senses were on the edge. Since the minute he disturbed you, he sensed your heartbeat fastly increasing, your natural smell was bewitching him because of how close you were but your touch on him was what drove him crazy. He wouldn't stop for nothing in this galaxy either. It was one of the realest thing he ever experienced in his life. In this war, there was no place for attachment, he was meant to be expandable, cannon fodder, for a galaxy that he'd known so little but only by Kaminoan files. He wasn't supposed to mean something for someone, just an ephemeral shadow in this vast galaxy.

But there you are, a Jedi, his general, his superior. He shouldn't be doing this, kriff, he shouldn't think that it's possible to be this close to you. You made an oath too but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help this closeness, this attraction, this bond it was too much to just let it slip away. And he could die tomorrow, so could you. Everything is supposed to be ephemeral.

This is with this mindset that he catched your retracting hand with his gloved one. You gasped soflty and looked in his eyes, something shifted in the way he was looking at you, he was bold and determined.

"No." He says simply. "I mean... We could take this more privately." He trails not realizing the double meaning of his words, your cheeks reddened and you scrunched your nose and eyebrows in confusion.

He looked at you and suddenly realized. He let go of your hand and put it behind his head, all shy suddenly. "N-no... That's not what I meant. My hair is a real mess and I think you could do... Something about it... Without my brothers... Without risking to be seen." He said quickly but still low so none of his brothers could hear his demand. Hunter went from the confident Sergeant you knew on the battlefield to a babbling mess scared he had offended his general.

You took his other hand in yours, take a glance at your surrounding and with a slight movement of your head you told him "Come on."

He followed without asking question. You grabbed the blanket they lend you for the cold nights and you climbed the ladder to the tail gun, the only place were you could hope to have a little bit of intimacy. Hunter climbed behind you as you settled the blanket on the cold metal floor and you sit. The gun chair was taking a big space but you could manage to make some room, Hunter had to just lean down.

You invited him with arms open but he looked at you incredulously. You chuckled and told him softly "Lay down on my lap Sergeant." He hesitated then made up his mind and sit down then lay his head on your lap. He was tensed you could sense it. You trailed a hand on his face and you took off his bandana gently. Some small locks fell on his face. You took the bandana, looked at it, you passed your thumb on the skull and smiled a bit. You took his hand which was laying on his stomach and you put the bandana in. He clenched at it and with his other hand he stroked your arm.

Then you started working. At first, you just played with his hair slowly and you scratched his scalp from time to time. Hunter closed his eyes even if he wanted to keep looking at your concentrate face, he couldn't help but feeling relaxed by your touch.

You realized that you forgot your comb and that you couldn't just move. You let one hand in Hunter's hair, still stroking his forehead and his hair and with the other, you concentrated to see the place where you let the comb this same morning and you used the Force. Some moment after, the comb was in your hand and you heard a slight chuckle as you open your eyes and faced Hunter who also had open his eyes.

"I love when you do that." He simply said. "And why that?" Did you ask in return as you start to comb his soft locks not resting from your previous ministrations.

"Because..." He took a moment to look for the right words. "It makes me feel like you're one of us."

"How's that?" You genuinely ask. "Well, you're special."

You scoff, cheeks red. "If it was another Jedi General it would have been the same you know." You just answered like if it was just a normal thing, but not for Hunter.

"I don't think so. No. I know so." He said, repositionning his head on your lap and closing his eyes. It was true, which general would have taken care of him and his brothers like you do. Which general would comb his Sergeant hair on their lap? No one. But you do.

In a way, you felt guilty because in your heart, it looked like your just doing it to lighten your actions and the future ones. But you genuinely cared for them, for him. Or you wouldn't have asked to retrieve your beloved squad once everything would have been done. Everything would be the same between you but even better, because you would be free, free to love who you want to love. And no war would stop you. Peace will be brought again to the galaxy and you will be free.

"You don't believe me." He said opening one eye with a slight smirk on his handsome face, interrupting once again your dark thoughts. That's exactly why you loved him, he was the light in your dark times.

"It's not about what you said, it's about me struggling to believe that it could be true for me."

He raised one hand and stroke the side of your head and your hair. "I don't know what you are fighting for within you, but you know you can always rely on... me." Hunter wanted to say on "us" but for once, he didn't wanted to involve his brothers in the confession you were making to him and him only.

"You're special." He said soflty but deeply. "If you're not special amongst the Jedi, at least if it's what you like to believe, you are special... for me." You hold the hand which was on your face, you catch it and intertwined your fingers with his and you rest your hands on his chest, just above his heart. Your eyes, soft and filled with adoration were looking at his face and your other one lost itself in his hair between stroking and scratching his scalp.

You didn't spoke oppenly about your mutual feelings, but you knew it was better this way.

All that happened for the past half hour with Hunter was like a bubble. Everything was slow and gentle, as if time had stopped around you, as if there was no war and no secret conspiracy. You didn't have to be a Jedi nor a General in this moment. And he didn't have to be a Sergeant or a Clone in this moment. It was just Hunter and you and the rest of the Galaxy could burn, you wouldn't care.

You lost yourself in this peaceful moment like your fingers were lost in his now soft and combed locks, your worries far away even if they were closer than what you'd like. Your eyes scanning his peaceful and resting features. You didn't know if Hunter had fallen asleep, but you couldn't care anymore, you wouldn't stop. After all, in your heart, you knew this moment was ephemeral.

Thanks for reading !

[questforgalas]

Thank you for coming back

Notes: So once again, @zaana's incredible art lived rent free in my head until I put it down on paper. So here's a delightful AU where Crosshair doesn't get sent to Tantiss because guess who gets to him first? Chose to do a rescue from Barton IV because Cross is in his imperial armor in the art, and I thought "Hey, let's maybe give him a break and not make him go through torture before he's rescued?" Neat idea, right? Let's tell Jen and Brad

WC: 3K (lol this was going to be a drabble)

Characters: The Bad Batch (all of them!)

Tags: Wrecker POV (he deserves all the Crosshair reunion energy), angst at the end (Crosshair is going through it ok), hurt/comfort, giant family group hug, Crosshair and Wrecker cry, Hunter is emotional, canon typical violence, implied mistreatment by the Empire (did I mention Crosshair is going through it?), family reunion, all the family fluff I could fit into 3k words

Tay's Masterlist

Read on AO3

The sound of blaster fire was becoming permanent in Wrecker’s ears. Hunkered down behind a duracrete barrier, he kept his DC-17 trained on the Imps attempting to advance on his position, blaster bolts streaming past his head. 

“Seriously, who trained these guys to shoot,” he thought to himself, needing to only dodge a few bolts from the barrage while his targets fell with each pull of his trigger. 

The landing platform at the depot on Barton IV was looking more like a true battlefield and less like a remote outpost with every passing minute. Two T-4 shuttles lay in smoking ruins - the first thanks to Hunter’s skill on the Marauder’s rear gun and the second thanks to an excellent detonator throw by Wrecker - and stormtrooper bodies lay scattered across the duracrete ground. So far, Wrecker and Hunter were executing their part of the plan perfectly, but when it came to creating distractions, there wasn’t much guess work as to Wrecker’s success rate. 

The Batch’s intel told them that the depot, located on a desolate, frozen planet that rivaled Hoth’s  icy temperatures, normally operated as a blip on the Empire’s priority list. In fact, blip might have been giving it too much credit. The small clone trooper squad that was assigned to protection detail put in requests for equipment, supplies, and reinforcements throughout their year of service, and every request fell on deaf imperial ears. Gathered from the information Tech found during his hacking, Commander Mayday of the squad put in a request for reinforcements 40 rotations ago, citing that only five members of his squad remained alive at the time the request went in, but Tech couldn’t find any log of a response anywhere in the records. Complete silence from the Empire. 

Until 4 rotations ago. The call went out for a platoon of stormtroopers to ready for deployment to Barton IV with orders to transport cargo of high importance to the Empire from the depot to the military base on Coruscant. Prior to the platoon’s arrival, a small squad of clone troopers was sent to scout and ready the depot for the cargo transfer. The squad consisted of two standard troopers and one specialized. One prickly, stubborn, unyielding specialized trooper who Wrecker couldn’t wait to see again. 

When Tech caught chatter that a clone trooper shot a commanding imperial officer in broad daylight in front of an imperial depot, he initially intended to send the intel directly to Captain Rex, informing him of another defecting clone who would be in need of assistance, but after he scanned the information log, he didn’t register his datapad falling from his hands, thudding on the floor, only able to to focus on activating the comm on his vambrace, urging Hunter to get to the Marauder as quickly as possible. Because there in front of him, written across the Marauder’s main computer, was CT-9904: Defector. Charged with the murder of Lieutenant Nolan. In custody on Barton IV. Scheduled for armed transfer in two rotations. 

The discussion was short - Hunter the only one remaining cautious until Tech confirmed the lack of security at the depot, even with the stormtrooper platoon coming in - and the Batch set their course to Barton IV less than two hours after the message was intercepted. The plan was easy, one the Batch could nearly execute in their sleep, even with their newer blonde addition. Create a distraction to draw the majority of security out into the open which Hunter and Wrecker would engage while Omega provided cover from the Marauder. Meanwhile, Tech and Echo skirt along the edge of the chaos, slip into the depot undetected, locate Crosshair’s location, and extract him while neutralizing any remaining threats if necessary. 

Plans 5, 4, and 21. The Batch specialty. 

“Wrecker, incoming! Northwest!” Hunter’s smokey voice called over the commotion. 

The far gate of the depot opened, ten stormtroopers running out to join the fight. “Yeah, I see ‘em, Sarge,” Wrecker confirmed. “They look excited to see us.” 

Hunter took cover behind his barrier, and turned his head in Wrecker’s direction.

“How about you give our hosts a warm greeting?” Hunter suggested, cocking his head to the side. Wrecker could feel the smug smirk under that helmet.

“Gladly,” Wrecker responded gleefully. 

Reaching into the pack on his back, he grabbed two thermal detonators, clicked them live, and chucked. They arced into the air, curving in opposite directions, landing right in the middle of the oncoming troopers, and Wrecker watched as all ten stormtroopers disappeared into a beautiful burst of orange, red, and black. 

“Direct hit,” Wrecker yelled, pumping his DC-17 in triumph. 

Across the way, Hunter gave a quick thumbs up and popped his head above his barrier. Wrecker did the same, confirming that the landing platform was clear of imps for the moment, but they knew more troopers would arrive soon. They’d only taken out about 30 of them so far. 

“Agh, where are they,” Hunter wondered, helmet trained on the door they expected to see their brothers emerge from. 

“Give ‘em a few more minutes, Sarge. I doubt the Empire just left Crosshair in a set of binders on a crate.” 

“They’re dumb enough to,” Hunter said. A soft chuckle came through his modulator, “Wonder how long he’d humor them until he took them all out with his hands still bound.” 

“Knowing Crosshair? They wouldn’t even get the binders on him,” Wrecker laughed. 

Hunter went quiet, helmet still pointed at the door. Then his shoulders fell like he was bowing to a weight Wrecker couldn’t see. “We’ll have to be patient. He’s…” Hunter paused. “He’s probably not the Crosshair we remember. There are going to be some … invisible wounds.” 

Wrecker released his own shuttered breath. He looked down at the ground for a moment, and then looked back up to find Hunter looking back at him. “Doesn’t matter how long it takes. We’ll help patch those up too.” 

Hunter remained still for a breath and then nodded. 

The silence was interrupted by a chime on Hunter’s comm. “What’ve you got, Omega?” he asked as he activated the connection. 

“I’m picking up multiple heat signatures heading our way. Looks like our little break is over,” Omega’s voice chirped over the comm. 

“Copy that,” Hunter responded.

Wrecker brought his own comm up to his mouth. “What’s your count, kid?” he asked playfully. 

“I’m at 4,” Omega answered, a smug tone floating through. 

“Only 4? You’re falling behind. I’m at 18,” Wrecker said. 

“I don’t think the thermal detonators should count,” Hunter interjected. 

“What?! Did you see how perfectly those landed? Probably my best yet! Not even Tech could pull that off.” 

“It’s hardly fair when I’m all the way back here on the Marauder!” Omega argued. 

“Excuses excuses, kid,” Wrecker teased. Their debate came to a quick halt when the remaining hangar doors of the depot opened, revealing the last wave of the platoon. “Alright, break time’s over. Shoot good, kid.” 

The platform became engulfed in battle once again. Blaster bolts peppered the air. Thermal detonators flew. Line after line of stormtroopers tried to take the advantage on the two ground soldiers and their coverage, but Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega held them back with ease. Wrecker heard General Skywalker speaking to Hunter about something called meditation once - a staple Jedi practice of centering one’s mind and connecting with the force through quiet sitting - and while Wrecker wasn’t sure this would meet the Jedi standard, he imagined this was the closest to meditation he would ever come. Surrounded by the sounds of battle. Adrenaline pumping in his veins. He’d hit a point of focus that drowned everything else out, his mission the only thought in his mind. And he was dam good at it, too. 

His DC-17 sang, and he let out a jovial laugh as he took down another line of troopers. As he focused on the enemies in front of him, the squad’s comm channel chimed in his helmet, and the only thing in the galaxy that could divert his attention from the battle in front of him called through the speakers.

“Hunter. Wrecker. We’ve got him. We’re approaching the exit. What’s the status of the platform?” Echo’s voice came through. 

For a second, Wrecker and Hunter turned towards each other, both chests rising rapidly with fast breaths not caused by the battle in front of them, and Wrecker knew if he could see Hunter’s eyes, they’d reflect the same bottomless relief he was feeling. 

Wrecker forced himself back to the present and provided cover fire while Hunter responded. 

“You’re clear to exit. A few imps left but nothing we can’t handle. Wrecker and I will provide cover fire while you cross the platform. Go directly to the Marauder,” Hunter ordered. 

Wrecker’s breath caught in his throat when a low, raspy voice could be heard in the background. “No, we thought we’d take a hike in the mountains.”

A hitched breath came through, and in his peripheral, Wrecker noticed Hunter lean his helmet back against the duracrete barrier, shoulders shaking. 

“I never thought I’d miss his attitude,” Omega piped in. 

That broke the tension building in Wrecker’s head, and a laugh barreled out from his chest. Brain clear and ready to act again, he focused on the remaining stormtroopers trying to hold their ground. 

“Omega, get the engines running. We’re getting off this hunk of ice as soon as we’re all onboard,” Hunter finished relaying the orders. 

“One more thing,” Tech’s voice came through this time. “I did the scan. The inhibitor chip has indeed been removed, but only after the encounter on Bracca. Crosshair did remove it voluntarily unbeknownst to the Empire.”

“Tech kind of refused to leave the holding cells until he was able to confirm it all. Hacked records and everything here on the depot. That’s what took us so long,” Echo supplied.

“Thank the Maker for Tech, and his stubborn need for knowledge,” Hunter mumbled. He went back on the comm, “Glad to hear it. Now get out here.”

Hunter turned to Wrecker. “Let’s take out as many as we can before they get here. Once they emerge, you lay down cover fire, and I’ll take overwatch.” 

“Copy that,” Wrecker replied, and they went to work. 

Time that had been passing at light speed slowed to the flow of Mustafar lava. Only ten stormtroopers remained posted across the platform, and Wrecker was determined to clear as many as he could before his brothers emerged. 

Another minute passed. Another. Then another. Time was taunting him.  

A whoosh floated over the blasterfire. The blasted door to the depot finally opened, and there in the doorway were three bent over figures - two supporting the weight of the third in between them - hobbling onto the landing deck. Wrecker allowed himself one glance hoping it would calm his running mind. Echo took most of the middle figure’s weight, flesh arm wrapped around their waist and scomp arm securing the arm wrapped across Echo’s back dangling over his shoulder, while Tech kept one arm around the figure’s waist and kept his blaster at the ready in the other. 

As Wrecker glanced at them,  it wasn’t the figure’s distinct all black armor - the armor of the imperial special forces - that identified him to Wrecker. No, it was the tattoo around their right eye. The tattoo Wrecker sat and watched as Tech gave it to them when they were still just cadets. The tattoo that represented their pride in their skill. The tattoo that told everyone exactly which batch he belonged to, front and center for all to see. The crosshair. 

Flanking from behind, Tech easily took down three stormtroopers before they made their way down the stairs. The remaining seven stormtroopers barked out orders to fall back, trying to regroup due to the new arrivals, and Wrecker used their confusion to his advantage, taking out another three in one go. Realizing they were outnumbered and outmatched, the remaining four stormtroopers fell back to the hangar, shooting wildly at any target they could see. 

Slower than Wrecker would like, his three brothers made their way to his and Hunter’s position across the platform. As soon as they crossed the threshold of their barriers, Hunter stood from his coverage, falling in step to provide cover directly at their backs. 

“Alright, Wrecker. Let’s keep these guys pinned as we head to the ship,” Hunter said. 

Jumping into position, Wrecker kept a steady pace back to the Marauder without breaking his fire on the remaining stormtroopers. Hunter hit one more as they walked, and Wrecker had his finger on the trigger to take down another when a streak of pink flew over his head and directly into the helmet of his target. 

He glanced over his shoulder. 

“Final count: 12,” Omega beamed down at him from the top of the ramp into the Marauder. 

“Aha! Nice shot, kid! Now let’s get out of here,” Wrecker said, barreling up the ramp into the ship. 

The ramp closed up as the ship made its way into the air, and the energy within immediately went still. Tech sat in the cockpit, taking over the controls from Omega once on board, but Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, Omega, and Crosshair remained in the hold. 

Crosshair sat in the chair in front of the computer, slumped over, one hand on the armrest propping him while an elbow rested on a knee like that was all the energy he could muster. He was breathing heavy, chest rising and falling as if he’d just finished a training sprint back on Kamino. Wrecker quickly gave his body a once over. Crosshair had always been lithe, by far the smallest body mass of the Bad Batch, but there had been muscle underneath those long limbs that gave any regular clone trooper a run for his money. Now, Wrecker clocked only bones showing underneath the exposed areas his armor didn’t cover, and his cheekbones were sharp above the hollowness of his cheeks. Purple blotched under his eyes, and it was impossible not to notice the deep scar that covered the right side on the back of his head. The scar he received when he took the full heat of a Venator ion engine. 

The same engine he tried to trap his brothers in. 

“Thank you…for coming for me. I…I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t,” Crosshair drawled, head bent down. Whether he was unable to lift it from lack of strength or not being able to face the current scene, Wrecker wasn’t sure. His own heart was thudding in his chest, threatening to burst out. He called on every ounce of discipline and self-restraint he learned in his years as a soldier and remained rooted in place, holding his breath. The rest of the Batch stood as still as statues, four sets of eyes on their silver-haired brother. 

“You can drop me off at the closest port. You can pick. Doesn’t matter to me,” Crosshair said to the floor. Still, no one else spoke. He raised his head, glancing at each of them. His gaze settled on Hunter. “I…I’d understand if that’s what you want to do. It’s what you should do.” 

The five of them felt the Marauder lurch into hyperspace, but still, Echo, Omega, Hunter, and Wrecker didn’t budge. Footsteps approached from the cockpit, and soon, Tech joined them, choosing to sit in the chair across from Crosshair. The silence grew, and Wrecked noticed the crease between the sniper’s eyebrows deepen while his eyes darted around the group.

“Well, aren’t any of you going to say something?” Crosshair asked, frustration creeping into his voice. He glanced around one more time, and finally stood up from the chair, a growl coming from his throat, back hunched like he was ready to pounce, and his gaze locked on Hunter, a finger pointed at the sergeant. “Listen, I didn’t ask you to come get me. I was ready to die on that platform after I shot the lieutenant, and I was ready to die in whatever maker-forsaken place they were going to send me. You hear me? I didn’t ask for this.” He gestured around the room, around the Batch. 

“So don’t make me a burden you don’t want. Drop me anywhere. Leave me. It’s what I deserve - oof!” 

Wrecker couldn’t take it anymore, and as he watched Crosshair teeter on the precipice of self-destruction, he took two strides towards his brother, and engulfed him in his arms. 

Crosshair stiffened, his arms frozen mid-gesture to the side. Wrecker stood there, arms firmly wrapped around Crosshair’s back and shoulders, head dipping to rest on top of Crosshair’s head, and he waited. Eventually, Crosshair’s arms fell to his sides, but his body remained stiff like he wasn’t actually registering what was happening. Then, after a few breaths, his arms slowly rose, one wrapping under Wrecker’s arm and the other circling over his shoulder. 

“Why did you come for me?” Wrecker heard muffled into his chestplate. 

“We don’t leave our own behind,” Wrecker answered simply. 

Wrecker felt the shaking first, then he heard the soft sobs. Tightening his arms, he held his once-lost brother as if challenging the galaxy to try and separate them again. When he felt Crosshair crumble into his chest, he released the grip he’d been holding on his own emotions, and the tears flowed freely. Tears of sorrow for what Crosshair endured. Tears of rage at the Empire. Tears of sweet relief at his family being whole again. 

Wrecker felt a pair of arms sneak between his waist and Crosshair’s chest, and when he looked up, he saw Hunter wrapped around Crosshair’s back, arms crushing the sniper into the sergeant’s chest. “We’ve got you, Cross,” Hunter murmured. 

One-by-one, Tech, Echo, and Omega joined in, the last squeezing herself into the middle, wrapping her arms around Crosshair’s leg, and even when the sobs quieted, they remained that way. There was a lot to talk about. A long road of trust to regain. They were about to navigate rough terrain. And the past will resurface, in old wounds, physical and not. But none of that mattered right now. In the middle of their home, a family reunited. Unsure what the future would bring them, but ready to face it all together.

[ccattre]

WHA HOO MY JAK AND DAXTER OC TIME!!! It's my turn now, I still have 2 more other peoples characters im going to be drawing, though ^w^

So I've been trying to get this drawing right for months, and I'm finally happy with the results. So this is Blair. She's based on an old oc I had when I was young, but I completely changed her LOL.

So Blairs thing is using eco crystals and building holders for them that allow the user to harness the crystals' power like a chanaler could.

She was born in Main town and always had a fascination with utilizing eco crystals with old technology. Her main goal was to bring eco back into the hands of the people. She excelled in school, and her studies in college got some attention. She was invited to join the citys scientist in exchange for resources for her research.

She researched what she wanted in the beginning, but as her skills and knowledge were shown, she was slowly forced to do more tasks that started to dwell from her perfered research. Eventually, she was promoted to a special team lead by the Barron that didn't reveal its goals.

The work she preferred involved tinkering with precursor metals and combinding them with the eco crystals, creating tools. The work for this new team involved extracting eco crystals into moldable liquids to sent out in viles for the Barrons project's.

It didn't take too long for Blair to see the fucked up shit that was going on around town, but when she tried to stand down from her position she was threatened. She worked as a Haven scientist for around 4 years, until one day an accident happened that Blair used as a ploy to escape Haven and fake her death.

The accident resulted when Blair was fiddling with a yellow eco crystal, and a unintentional crack caused the crystal to explode, sending a layer of active yellow eco flying, starting a fire in the lab, but also coating the left side of her body from her face to her stomach. (why you wear protective glasses)

She left Haven with the last of the money she had and wondered the wastelands. She eventually stumbled upon a group of female marauders who took her in, and she became the groups medic (shes not too qualified but can handle eco better than the rest of them). She continued her original research and successfully began a line of eco crystal jewelry and armor that can be used as weapons and tools. And the drawing above is showing how she looks like during this phase in her life.

-------

AND THATS WHAT I HAVE FOR NOW!! Ima draw a proper character sheet soon with all her stuff on it, but im just happy to finally post this. :D

[toska-writes]

“Random Clone Headcannons p.2”

We’re back at it again! But also note that there will be another writing coming out very soon- and I think it’s gonna be a long one

Clones x Reader (platonic!)

“P.1 of the Headcannons!”

•Wolffe has a few suspects of who keeps leaving dog treats around his stuff and in his bunk- butttttt to your amazement he keeps yelling at the domino twins instead of you

• Fox would literally stand up to anyone who’s bothering you (they all would but he would do it in such an unhinged way)

• Alpha 17 is actually surprised with your performance in a training simulation on Kamino whenever you can visit and gives some tips

• To second that, besides a few exceptions Alpha would think that you are a ✨tolerable natbron✨ and one he thinks is cool

• Since the clones have some pretty good immune systems (for the most part) imagine how panicked they’d be if you walked in with the flu or something

• Fives wouldn’t let you even raise a finger if you were sick

•The delta squad has been, for some reason, trusted to watch over you while your master is away- Boss and Fixer take this very seriously

• Sev somehow lit Scorch on fire and you were the one to put it out while the rest ran around like babies for help

• If you liked another padawan (maybe like Ahsoka like me *cough cough 🏳️‍🌈) Hardcase and Jesse would be ALL over that and definitely could figure it out very quickly, I mean it’s only frowned upon if you get caught so…..

• Laying on top of the Marauder with the bad batch and Omega is snuggled by your arm while you watch a meteor shower

•Tech was pushed off by Crosshair for trying to educate everyone

• You took Cody’s armor for shits and giggles with Waxer and Boil because you wanted to try it on, but no one is laughing now that a certain commander is hunting you three down through the hall of the Negotiator

• designing a few tattoos on your holopad for a few troopers to get>>>>

• Fives has a way of hugging people where you are so completely immersed and so protected- But the group hugs with Echo and Fives… extraordinary

• You secretly take pictures of everyone- weather it’s like Hardcase and his mouth is wide open when he sleeps. If it’s the look on Sinkers face when Wolffe catches him doing soemthing, or even funny videos with Fives or Wrecker

• Alpha 17 gives you ALL the dirt about all the COs- It haunts Cody how much dirt you have on him from when he was a cadet… your just waiting for the right moment

Taglist:

@arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97

[horizon-armor]

Tenakth Sky Climber | Tenakth Marauder Cold Sands Lowland Stalker Night Blood Renegade Sentinel Scorched Ochre

All Dyes

[starry-crossing-zone]

The Medic - Echo (TBB)

Summary: Before the Citadel, Echo fell in love with the 501st civilian medic. After he's rescued, Echo tries to not think about her and what she's doing. But the Force has other plans. Length: 2056 words Warnings: Unnamed Female Medic (Can Read as Reader or OC), Canon Angst, Body Dysmorphia (Echo)

Part 2

Echo remembered everything about her. The way that her hand fit into his own as they laid together in her bed after a long campaign. He remembered the exact weight of her as she slept against his chest. The distinct way that her eyes always crinkled with joy whenever she spotted him among his brothers. 

He remembered all of it. All of her. But at some point he had to wonder if it was masochistic to keep thinking about her. 

She thought he was dead. And that was so long ago now. And a woman like her? There was no way that she wouldn’t move on. She was beautiful. She was smart. She was talented. There was no way that she was still waiting for him to come home. And why should she? Echo stared down at his scomp as his memories continued to whirl around his head. 

“Echo?” Omega called softly, breaking Echo out of his thoughts. 

“Hmm?” Echo hummed, turning to face Omega. 

“Are you alright?”

“Of course, I am. Why do you ask?”

“You looked upset,” Omega observed, causing Hunter to glance worriedly in their direction. “What were you thinking about?”

“Omega,” Hunter started to warn her, but Echo shook his head. 

“It’s alright, Hunter.” Turning back to Omega, Echo cleared his throat as he tried to come up with an explanation. “I was thinking about an old . . . friend of mine.”

“How did you know them?” Omega asked curiously.

“She was a medic for my old squad.”

“She?” Omega repeated, taking a few steps closer to Echo as she studied his expression. “There were civilians with you?”

“She was one of the few,” Echo replied softly. “And one that I miss. A lot.”

“We should look for her!” Omega suggested with a beaming smile, but Echo shook his head. 

“Any involvement with us would only endanger her. And besides, I’m pretty sure that she still thinks that I’m dead.”

“You never told her that you were alive?” Omega asked, sounding taken aback. 

“I didn’t have a chance. She left the GAR after the Citadel mission, according to Rex. And then I left with this team after I was rescued. There wasn’t much time after that to track her down.”

“I’m sorry, Echo,” Omega replied quietly, causing Echo to nod. “I’m sure she misses you.”

“Yeah,” Echo returned, though his voice lacked conviction. 

Echo got up from his seat and walked deeper into the Marauder. Omega watched him disappear into a separate room before turning to Hunter for further explanation. But Hunter merely shook his head in return, nonverbally telling Omega to drop it. 

*~*~*~*

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to see,” Rex stated, gesturing for Echo to follow him further up the hill. 

“Where are we?” Echo asked, frowning as he walked behind Rex. 

“Just a small pit stop.”

Echo continued to frown, but didn’t comment further. Once they reached the crest of the hill, Echo spotted a farm with a few huts scattered along the dirt road and a large barn adjacent to the dense forest. Rex strode over to the barn, where some light spilled out from the cracks in the door. Rex typed in a code and opened the door, revealing a large group of clones. 

It reminded Echo of the barracks from the war. Brothers were spread out around the barn, some still dressed in their plastoid armor, but most were in some mix of civilian clothes. Rex greeted the brothers that they passed and Echo nodded to them, but did not say or do much else. 

“So, this is where the operation is headquartered?” Echo asked, causing Rex to shake his head.

“No, just a small offshoot. Mostly for the brothers who want to disappear into the galaxy. Those who are ready to put the war behind them,” Rex explained to Echo, who glanced around the barn again curiously.

“Then why are we here?” 

“There’s someone here that I want you to see,” Rex replied, causing Echo to raise an eyebrow. 

“Who?”

“You’ll see.” 

Rex walked around a set of metal shelves, stacked with farm tools and fertilizer, but also medical supplies and other boxes. In the dim lighting, Echo quickly spotted the medical table under a brighter spotlight. An injured trooper sat on the table as the woman in front of him wrapped his bicep with a bandage.

“That should do it,” the woman stated, pinning the bandage in place. “You’ll be good as new in about two rotations.”

Echo froze at the familiar sound of her voice. And the closer that he looked, the more familiar that she got. Her hair was shorter now and she was no longer wearing her GAR uniform, but when she turned around, her eyes were just as he remembered all of those cold nights on Skako Minor. 

“Cyare?” Echo whispered, almost as a reflex. 

“Echo?” she returned, sounding just as surprised as he did. 

Rex nudged Echo in the shoulder before helping the injured trooper over to where the rations were kept, leaving the former couple alone for the first time in years. Echo stood frozen and rigid, not unlike a droid would, as she slowly stepped towards him, coming out of her own shock before him. Her eyes searched his face as the familiar warm smile fell over her lips. Echo was still frozen in time, but not frozen enough to miss the subtle tears building in her eyes. 

“You’re here,” she whispered out breathlessly. 

You’re alive, is probably what she meant to say. 

“Most of me, anyways,” Echo returned quietly, moving his mechanical arm behind his back a bit. Looking at the floor for a moment, Echo slowly returned his gaze to her, a bit sheepishly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Over two years,” she returned sadly. 

“I’m sorry,” Echo replied, but she shook her head in return. 

“What are you apologizing for? You didn’t ask for . . .” Her eyes fell to his mechanical arm and headband before meeting his eyes again, “. . . what happened.” A silence fell between them before she continued, “I’m just happy that you’re alive. And free. That’s all that matters.”

Echo nodded slowly, his face dropping as he felt the warmth and kindness radiating off of her that he wasn’t sure he deserved after everything that he put her through. 

“What did they tell you?” Echo asked, his voice deeper than usual. 

“Fives told me about what happened at the Citadel. Most of it, anyways,” she replied softly, fiddling with her fingers nervously. “And he gave me the letter that you wrote.” Echo nodded painfully, remembering every last word that he wrote right after they got their orders. “But then I left the GAR about a month after and that was the last time that I tried to think about it.”

“Why?” Echo asked quietly, causing her to pick her head up. “Why did you leave the GAR?”

“It was . . . too emotional,” you returned softly. “I was too emotional. It was just easier to leave and start over.”

“When I told you to not be afraid to move on,” Echo spoke softly, causing her to wince and look up at him through her eyelashes, “you didn’t have to change your whole career around. You were integral to the battalion.”

“It’s alright. I found my calling elsewhere. I worked at a clinic on Coruscant for a while. Fives would visit me a lot.” She trailed off for a moment at the mention of the fallen trooper before snapping back to the present. “But after . . . I had enough of Coruscant. Of the Republic, even. So, I fled here. It was just a fledgling refugee camp at the time but we built it up. And now, we’re nearly self-sufficient. It worked out in the end.”

“I’m glad that it did,” Echo replied honestly, looking around the barn again. “But how did you get involved in this operation then? After you left the GAR and everything.”

“Rex found me. He asked for help and I wasn’t about to tell him that I couldn’t.”

“You’re taking a huge risk,” Echo warned her, causing her to pause for a moment. “If the Empire finds out about this operation . . .” He trailed off, that old concerned look that he got right before every battle coming over his face, “. . . it’s dangerous.”

“Existing in this galaxy is dangerous right now,” she pointed out, a bit firmly. “And if there’s something that I can do to help, I’m going to do it. Especially for your brothers.” 

Echo nodded, not arguing with her on that point. After all, he knew that he would lose. Every time that he told her to be careful or let someone else pull off the riskier part of a mission, she always went ahead and did it anyway. She never pulled back from a difficult mission and Echo wasn’t shocked to see that she hadn’t changed. 

“Thank you,” Echo replied quietly. 

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” she responded softly. “For any of it.” 

They stared at each other for a long moment, a wordless exchange of emotions passing between them. Echo spotted the conflict in her gaze, the way that she twitched a bit and looked grief stricken in a way that he knew meant that she felt guilty. And he had an idea about what caused it. That didn’t stop his stomach from flipping uncomfortably. 

“And you don’t have to explain anything to me,” Echo returned, causing her to frown with a bit of confusion. “I knew it probably happened anyways.” 

“You did?” she breathed out, pressing a hand nervously to her chest. 

“I told you to move on,” Echo pointed out, causing her expression to quickly change. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about that.” 

“Echo, that’s not what I meant,” she replied, her expression growing more serious. 

“Then what did you mean?” Echo asked, now confused. 

She hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the words, when the sound of footsteps caused them to turn. Rex, Gregor, and Fireball walked over to them, all suited up and ready for the next mission. Echo straightened up subconsciously and she quickly turned away, knowing that the moment was now gone. 

“Ready to ship out?” Gregor cackled, punching Echo on the arm. 

Rex appeared apologetic as he glanced between them, but Echo waved off his concern. Gregor and Fireball walked off to ready the ship while Echo turned back to her. She offered him a small, encouraging smile and a nod. 

“Good luck.” 

“Thank you,” Echo returned, nodding curtly. 

The two of them shared one last longing look before Echo forced himself to turn around and catch up with Gregor and Fireball. Rex watched Echo walk off before turning back to her, to find that she was still staring after Echo. 

“Did you tell him?” Rex asked her quietly. 

“No, not yet.” Looking to the floor, she let out a shaky breath. “I’m worried about how he would react to the news after everything that he’s been through.” Turning back to Rex, she straightened up. “But I will tell him. Soon. He deserves to know.”

Rex nodded, shot her a small, encouraging smile, before walking off to join his brothers. She stood there for a moment, lost in her thoughts, before her comm went off. Knowing what that meant, she headed out of the barn and to her speeder. 

Driving down the dirt road for about three minutes, she came up to her hut. Parking the speeder outside her hut, she slid off and headed inside after typing in the code. Heading into the room that faced the sunrise, she moved to relieve her droid. 

“Thank you, NAN. You can go recharge,” she suggested, gesturing to the charging port. 

“Thank you, Mistress.” 

The droid walked off. Walking over to the large wooden crib along the wall, she leaned over and smiled at the sight. Her two identical boys were curled up against each other, both looking up at her with wide honey brown eyes that they got from their father. Running her hand through their hair, she clucked her tongue as they babbled.

“You two drained your nanny droid. Again,” she teased her sons, pressing her finger gently against their chubby cheeks. “You’re going to be little menaces when you’re grown, aren’t you?” 

[freesia-writes]

Chapter 1: Interference

During the Clone Wars, the Bad Batch is tasked with a variety of missions across the galaxy. An unexpected addition to their team throws a wrench in the mix, particularly for Tech, who finds a particular connection with this disillusioned Padawan-turned-mechanic named Vel throughout the events in this action-adventure romance.

COVER ART BY @zaana!!

Master List of Chapters

"Steady, Wrecker..." Crosshair said smoothly, lifting his left elbow to bring his sniper to his shoulder plate, "We will be finished in a moment."

"We either do it now, or I go down there and do it myself," Wrecker replied, "This has taken... three times too long! I'm starving!"

"Well, select your next meal, then. Here he is," came the silken retort. The target came into view, a short, fat little politician flanked by two guards. His chin quivered as he walked, bent over his datapad, engaged in an intense discussion on a comlink in his hand. A taxi whizzed by, causing people to hustle to the side. A few choice words came flying after him from the left guard, but there was nothing more to it.

Except that it was the precise gap Crosshair had been waiting for. His finger tightened on the trigger, and he shifted the toothpick to the other side of his mouth.

"Your call, Hunter," he said, in a tone that bordered on boredom, keeping an eye on the target and confirming his sniper set to stun. 

"Take it," came the order.

ZAP! A red beam of light sizzled into the wall next to the politician's head. Both guards immediately leapt into action, activating handheld ray shields that glowed around them and the diplomat. The shimmering ovals flew up from the ground to form a perfect bubble as the right guard called for backup, poised at the ready, eyes flitting to and fro. In one smooth movement, the group disappeared into a nearby building.

"How did you miss? You never miss!" Wrecker shouted, pushing his helmet up to rest atop his head.

"That wasn't me, nitwit," Crosshair hissed, scanning the rooftops with his scope, "That was a live round. Someone else is after our target."

"Crosshair is correct," came Tech's matter-of-fact voice from behind the two, "The shot originated from a rooftop at an approximate angle of--"

"Just tell us where!" Wrecker interrupted.

"There," Tech replied, angling his hand toward a tall building behind them. Before the word had fully left his mouth, Hunter was on the move. He ran swiftly toward the side of the building, taking a flying leap onto a parked speeder bike, launching off the handlebars, and catching hold of the tail end of a ladder dangling off the side of a second-story balcony. He scrambled to the top of the ladder without virtually no effort, disappearing over the side of the railing.

The rest of the team wasn't far behind. Wrecker stopped at the base of the ladder, giving Crosshair a leg up. He was nearly as lithe as Hunter, gliding up the ladder and leaping onto the balcony without a sound. He whipped his sniper from his back and brought it to his eye, adjusting the scope with his middle finger and thumb.

Tech was running toward them as well, typing furiously into his wrist. "I'll fetch the ship to get eyes in the sky; Wrecker can man the rear gun if we need any backup."

"Meet me at the top of the building; I just sent the coordinates to you," Hunter affirmed, "Crosshair and I will flush out this little interruption."

"Affirmative," Tech replied, and was joined by Wrecker as they sprinted back to the Marauder. ***

A pebble slipped from beneath her foot as Vel let fly a word that would have made her father smirk. She shuffled along the balcony, reaching the corner and rounding it swiftly. Finding the ladder down the side, she slid down as quickly as she could, hopping off two stories below to creep along the backside of the building. 

She saw movement up ahead, the flash of a figure crawling up the ladder on the other side and caught a hint of grey and red armor. Figuring it better to stun her pursuer than risk being caught, she pulled her blaster from her hip and furtively approached the ladder. 

Suddenly, a flash of blue light enveloped her, and her ears rang with a deafening high-pitched sound. She dropped to the ground and remembered no more. 

***

"You make good bait, Hunter," Crosshair crooned, stowing his sniper on his back as he smirked at the perfectly-placed stun. 

"Meet me on the roof," came the only reply. 

The Marauder lowered smoothly as the remainder of the team boarded, the passed-out figure thrown over Hunter's shoulder. He dropped her onto the floor under the control panel before continuing up to the bridge. 

"Let's report in and we'll see what to do with her," Hunter said.

With a nod, Tech moved a lever and the stars around them turned into solid blue lines as they disappeared into hyperspace. 

I'm gonna tag you all for this first chapter, but if you'd like to be tagged in the rest (there are 30), please reblog this first one! I know not all of you are crazy about full-length fics with OCs. So no hard feelings if you wanna sit this one out!

Tag List: @wolffegirlsunite @secretthegriffin @littlefeatherr @dystopicjumpsuit @arctrooper69 @foreverdaydreaming1 @stunkbiggu @mxkyrie @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @littlemissbshine @atomickidsoul @dreamie411 @skellymom @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @followthepurrgil @the-hexfiles @1vlouds @sunshinesdaydream @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @ughhhhfoff @coraex @moonlightwarriorqueen @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @gt13tbbart @mary-on-the-contrary

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[embeanwrites]

Plan 99

Tech (Bad Batch) x Reader 

A/N: I refuse the ending of that season, no thank you so I have fixed it. Spoilers for the finale season 2!

The Jedi heard Tech’s voice from where they were standing next to Echo on the rail car, barely able to stay upright as the group continued to fight for their lives, but the moment they heard those words from Tech’s mouth they no longer cared what they were doing.

“Plan 99!”

Those dreaded words. An agreement the Batch had before they had become their General and before they had even seen a second of battle. Plan 99 was more of a code phrase than a real plan. A simple agreement that the rest simply had to trust and respect whatever decision the Batcher was making. It was the final say on any matter, it wasn’t something they used lightly.

And hearing Tech say those words while hanging from the train card, gun pointing at the only part of the train keeping them together, spurred them into action. The moment his blaster fired the Jedi felt through the force, through the turmoil, fear, and stress the entire group was feeling, and grabbed onto Tech through the force, barely moving him in time to miss the half of the falling rail car before propelling him up, roughly through the force. They didn’t have the time to make sure he was gently placed, all thoughts tied into just making sure Tech stayed alive.

Through the loudness of the battle, the Jedi was unsure if they had screamed or even said anything as Wrecker grabbed Tech and Omega steadied the Jedi. But as soon as they seemed to be safe the group found themselves rushing in the car as they were then all sent speeding the other way. The last thing the Jedi remembered before hitting their head was Hunter reaching for Omega.

Waking up to the darkness of the Marauder’s bunk room, the Jedi’s heart was immediately racing as they stumbled out of their bunk. The room’s light was dimmed, and the Jedi just barely could make out that Hunter and Omega were resting on one of the lower bunks as they began racing towards the cockpit. Their thoughts were racing as the memories were starting to come back, it had been so long since they had used the force that strongly, and the sudden worry that it wasn’t enough was beginning to bubble and surface.

“Where-” They started, as Tech suddenly appeared in front of them grabbing their shoulders, steading them.

“Everyone’s on board the Marauder, you’re okay. Both you and Omega were knocked out and we are-” The Jedi quickly cuts Tech off with a harsh slap, leaving his goggles skewed and his thoughts scattered. Before he can even question why, he sees the tears welling in the Jedi’s eyes, in his Jedi’s eyes.

“Plan 99?” They hissed and immediately Tech sees them become undone. Gone was their cool and collective Jedi General, and all that was left was a scared individual who almost lost their partner only a few hours ago. Tech looks to see Hunter’s eyes peeking at the two of them so he quickly moves his hand to grab their arm and gently pull them into the fresher, at least there they could have privacy from peering eyes, even if Hunter could still hear them.

“I know, but at that moment I-”

“You what? Wanted to play the hero!” They seethed. “Tech, there were other ways out of that situation, and you were ready to kill yourself! Did you have any regard for what they might do to the squad? To Omega? To me?” Tech listened as their voice cracked on their last thought. He closed his eyes as he gently pulled them into his chest, for a moment he thought they’d pull away and then they engulfed them closer.

“May I explain?” He asked softly, he listened for them as they sighed and then nodded against his chest. He was glad the first thing he had done was rid himself of his armor when they were back on board so he could really hold them. “As selfish as it may seem at that moment my greater concern was keeping you and the others alive. I…I was scared and worried and I had already suspected my death would be on the battlefield either protecting or with my brothers.” He felt them pull him tighter as he stroked their back, trying to reassure them that he was still alive and with them. “Then you came along, and I allowed myself to think outside of the war and even now with the idea of Pabu, the thought is even stronger. We could live a normal life, and as selfish as it is I would die a thousand deaths before I could ever watch your own.”

“Tech-”

“I know it’s selfish and unfair to you, but at that moment I thought what I was doing was right. I see that, even though I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you safe, it isn’t fair to you, and I am very sorry.”

“No more Plan 99.” They mumbled, pulling away slightly, just enough so they could make eye contact. He found himself trapped in their glance, just as he had been the first time they had met and there was a flashing thought that the rail car could’ve been their last moments together. That they could have watched him die, helplessly.

“Promise me, no more Plan 99. Even if it’s to save me, especially if it’s to save me.”

“What if-”

“No more, what if’s, Tech. We get Crosshair back and that’s it. No more Plan 99’s.” They begged ever so softly. He sighed and gently cupped their cheek.

“No more, I promise.” He murmured, sealing his promise with a soft kiss.

[skellymom]

"Vagabonds" Chapter 10 "Stranded"

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

To read Chapter 9:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/741739026615353344/vagabonds-chapter-9?source=share

Word Count: 1.2K

Background: Time is running out for Hunter, Omega, and the crew of The Beldame.

Warning: Star Wars swears, Earth swears, fear, physical pain, fainting, blood, hypothermia, dog bites human, canon-typical violence.

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

Recap:

As the jovial banter continued, a group of clones stood around the window, watching the planet recede from view. 

“You think She and Little One have a chance?” 

“Much better than staying on Kamino.  The Nomaadi will take good care of ‘em.” 

“Wish I could’a stayed on the planet with ‘em.  Kriffin tired of this rat race.” 

“Miss them already...” 

“Shhh...we can’t.  At least not right NOW.”   

“Maybe sometime...in the future...” 

“Yeah, younger ones go first.” 

“Gotta be REAL careful if we smuggle any more out.” 

A hush fell among the group as the planet disappeared with only cold black space remaining. 

"Stranded"

Far out in cold black space the Dread Beldame drifted. 

After Mad had fainted and fallen to the floor, Sil turned her over. Pale and with a bruise from the fall developing on her face, he could feel the panic rising. 

“Sil...breathe...” Omega had to keep him calm. “Love?” 

The teen floated above the decking; eyes rolled back in their head. No answer. 

Hunter had finally passed out from the horrific sensory stimuli. 

Tiggy shook it off and ambled over to them whimpering. She pressed her body up against Sil to distract him. 

The lights of the Beldame began to flicker. 

“Sil! What’s going on? Are we losing power???” 

Sil snapped to, furiously stroking Tiggy. “We lost main power after the Venator exploded.” He looked terrified. “The auxillary power is starting to fail...lights, gravity...and life support.” 

Omega felt a chill go through her. “We can fix it...RIGHT???” 

“No... we need another ship to hook up to the ‘Dame for recharge and repair.” 

“It’ll be ok, Sil. The Marauder will be here soon!” 

Sil shook his head. “Omega...the explosion pushed us parsecs away from Ord Mantell.” He got up, leaving Mad and Tiggy to check ships comm. He found them inoperable, then stared out into the blackness of space. 

“I... recognize SOME of these stars. No planets or any other large landmarks. But we’ll continue to drift farther out.” He looked resigned to their fate. “Without coordinates, or a way to radio them, it’s going to be near impossible.” 

“Tech and Echo WILL find us!” Omega was hopeful...but she was also scared. 

The lights dimmed again and stayed at half capacity. 

“It’s going to get VERY cold here soon, Omega. And we need to conserve oxygen best we can.” Sil opened a panel and pulled out insulation blankets and oxygen face masks. 

Omega and Sil pulled Hunter, Mad, Love, Tiggy and each other close into a warm huddle, donned their oxygen masks, and hoped for the best. 

Echo and Tech furiously checked as many comm channels as possible to hail the Beldame. 

Techs voice was rising, “I cannot find them on ANY channel!” 

Echo was starting to worry, but couldn’t concentrate... 

“You stink!” Echo wrinkled up his face. “Get in the refresher, Wrecker!!!  Pick up your armor, too.” 

“Wait” interjected Tech “Who was that clone with you in the sewer tunnel?” 

Echo perked up and turned around in his seat “Another clone on Ord Mantell other than Rex???” 

“He called himself Riffraff.  Escaped off world after Order 66.” 

Echo smiled from ear to ear, “Thank the Maker!  Vod made it.” 

“You know him?” Tech inquired, still checking comm channels, trying not to panic. 

“Yeah, he was a shiny I met from another unit just before joining the Batch.  Good kid, he had promise.” 

“He looked SO OLD though.  Didn’t recognize him as a clone at first.” Wrecker was shocked.  

“I agree with Wrecker, he must have aged to look like a first-generation clone with all the adversity he witnessed during Order 66 and after.  He said he was staying behind to gain intel for a growing rebellion.” Tech’s brow creased stressfully. “STILL cannot hail the Beldame.” 

“Wrecker, shower!” Echo ordered.

“I’M GOIN’! GEEZ!!!” 

“Well, I hope he accomplishes his goal.  The galaxy really needs a strong rebellion.  Maybe more of our brothers will join the fight.”  Echo looked hopeful.  “Inhibitor chips be damned.” 

“I’m worried about the crew of the Beldame” Tech looked to Echo.  “Without a functioning shield they may not have escaped.” 

Echo shook his head, “I REFUSE to even consider that an option.” 

Darkness penetrated the Beldame. A thin coating of frost covered the huddled, blanketed crew. Omega and Sil were shivering violently from the cold. Love, Mad, and Hunter were still out, but breathing and warm...for now. 

Tiggy, being small and warmly nestled within the center of the group squiggled up through the bodies. She climbed up on Sil’s chest and pressed her canine head against his forehead.  

He felt a strange presence in his mind. The pitter patter of little paws though his thoughts...was the best he could recall. Sil was too weak to care. Concentrating on this was better than the agony of slowly freezing to death. 

“...mega?” Was the best he could muster. 

“Mmm...” She was barely there. He pulled her closer, trying to keep her warm with his body heat. 

How much oxygen did they have left? Even with the masks...it couldn’t last forever. Was it the low oxygen levels or the cold causing them to fight to stay awake? 

Tiggy crawled away from Sil and pulled herself up to Love, who was still levitating, but tied up close to their group for warmth. She whimpered and scratched at Love’s chest. No response. She barked. 

“Tiggy, leave it.” Sil tiredly commanded. 

The puppy whimpered and whined...then bit Love on the chin, drawing blood. 

Love’s eyes popped open with the pain response. 

“Tiggy, NO!”  

Omega intervened. “Sil...I think Tiggy is trying to do something.” 

“What?” 

“Don’t know...” 

Couzin? Love’s eyes rolled back in their head. 

Tiggy bit Love again. HARDER. 

Love’s eye focused on the pup. Oh...can’t...too weak... 

Then Tiggy MASHED her head up against Love’s. Her little tail wagging furiously. Omega and Sil watched closely. 

For what, they didn’t know. 

Bubbles filled the refresher shower. Wrecker scrubbed away at the stink on his skin. On his third wash to finally be rid of it. 

Plunging his face under the faucet a tune wound an earworm into his head.  

Wrecker hadn’t turned on his holotunes, but an oddly discordant song kept repeating in his head. More like a repeating snippet of a song...with some percussion. 

It became stronger. Then Wrecker started to hum...over...and over. Tapped his foot even. 

He finished, dried off, dressed. Still humming the tune, tapping the percussion now with his knuckle on the bunkroom wall. 

Wrecker wandered to the cockpit... 

...humming... 

...tapping... 

Echo and Tech were backtracking coordinates, retrying comm channels, plotting hyperspace lanes...concerned for the worst. 

“Like they just disappeared!” Echo furrowed his brow. 

“Echo...I think we MIGHT have to entertain the idea...” Tech eyed his brother with concern. 

“NO!” 

...humming... 

...tapping... 

“I know it’s difficult to consider...Echo...” 

“I WON’T accept that they may be...” 

...humming... 

...tapping... 

Tech swung his chair around to look at Wrecker. 

Wrecker was grooving along to some type of internal tune. Humming along and tapping on the Marauder’s interior wall. It wasn’t exactly musical, but Wrecker didn’t seem to mind, eyes closed, and he just kept on jamming along. 

Echo took Tech’s lead and watched Wrecker for a few moments.  

“WRECKER!” Echo shouted. 

“WHAAAAT?” 

“Why are you tapping out Basic Standard Code?” 

Wrecker shrugged. “Stuck in my head...can’t stop.” 

“Keep going, Wrecker.” Tech urged, rubbing his chin. 

They watched Wrecker repeat the humming and tapping over and over. 

Echo broke the silence, “DEFINITELY BSC! The message keeps repeating. Don’t know what the other part is...” 

Tech interrupted excitedly. “Notes on the musical scale!” 

Tech repeated the Basic Alphabet that corresponded with the notes to Echo. 

“With the Basic Standard Code...” Echo started the sentence... 

...and Tech finished it, “They’re coordinates!” 

They both spun their seats around and immediately engaged the Marauder. 

Wrecker stopped humming and tapping. “YOU’RE WELCOME!” 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

To read Chapter 11:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744912201871245312/vagabonds-chapter-11?source=share

[the-little-moment]

Part One

“To be alive: not just the carcass, 

But the spark.

That’s crudely put, but…

If we’re not supposed to dance,

Why all this music?”

-Gregory Orr

Part One (Words: 647, Warnings: None)

Senna followed the captain off the ship to a grassy clearing, her heart beating faster when she saw the familiar lines of the Marauder ahead of them. Rex turned and smiled at her as the ramp of the shuttle began to lower, seeing the anticipation on the doctor's face. The stairs had barely hit the ground when there was a loud shout and a massive man in grey armor came bounding down them to sweep her into his arms and off her feet. 

“Sen!" Wrecker boomed. "You’re here! I knew we'd get ya back."

Senna hugged his neck, boots dangling above the grass as she fought back tears. “I’m here, honey.” She kissed the clone's scarred cheek as he laughed, the lovely sound of it echoing through the clearing. “I’m here.”

Instead of being set back on her feet, the doctor found herself being passed into another pair of strong arms. Hunter almost crushed her against his armor, loosening his grip to look down at her when she squeaked. “Sen.” His deep voice was husky with emotion as he lowered her to the grass.

“Sweetheart.” She could hear her own voice shaking as she gripped his broad shoulders. “Oh, Hunter, it’s so good to see you. I was so worried.” The sergeant had opened his mouth to reply when he was interrupted by the sound of a clearing throat.

“If you are finished monopolizing the doctor.” Senna twisted in Hunter's arms to see Tech behind her, smiling as he pushed his goggles up the bridge of his nose.

"It's been twenty seconds—" his brother objected, but he released his grip on Senna as she reached out towards the pilot.

“Tech!” Senna laughed, throwing her arms around the slender soldier. Now the tears finally fell, running down her cheeks to drip on the scuffed plastoid of his chest plate as she struggled not to sob. “Little one.” 

He returned her embrace with the gentleness she had missed so much. “I missed you, Senna. Omega has already grown tired of my lectures.”

Senna choked out a laugh and nodded against his chest, unable to speak. When they finally broke apart, she saw the young girl standing awkwardly at the foot of the ramp, blonde hair conspicuously bare of the silver pendant she had worn on Kamino. Omega's small hands were clasped nervously in front of her as she watched the emotional reunion of her brothers and the doctor she had barely known.

Senna wiped her face and held out her arms to the girl, relieved when Omega ran into them, burying her face in Senna’s tunic.

“I’m glad you came!”

Senna twisted them both back and forth, squeezing Omega and kissing her hair. “So am I. You’ve already gotten taller and I missed it.” 

The young clone looked up at her with a shy smile. “Sorry. And I’m not actually tired of Tech, he just talks about the ship a lot.”

Senna laughed again when the pilot harrumphed behind her. She pushed her fallen hair back behind her ear and looked around the group in realization, “Where’s Echo?” 

Hunter gave her a smirk as he stepped aside to reveal the pale clone. "You didn't forget about him, did you?"

Echo looked nervously at her, his gloved hand fidgeting at his side. “Is it my turn?” He smiled in that soft, familiar way that went right to her heart. Senna stepped towards him, hesitating for a moment in front of the soldier to look up into his light eyes. 

“Sen?”

She wrapped her arms around him then, feeling the tears come and not caring. The only thing that mattered was the sound of his heartbeat through his armor, strong and reassuring. “I missed you so much. So much.” A shaky sigh escaped her as Echo's arms circled around her.

His voice was quiet when he answered. “I missed you, too.”

[questforgalas]

An Unexpected Enemy

This is literally a silly little dribble I wrote after this silly thought I posted wouldn't leave my mind. Just some early day fun with the Batch and brothers being brothers. Crosshair can't take corners. Someone give Hunter an aspirin. They haven't even left Kamino and he needs it already.

WC: 576

Characters: The Bad Batch pre Echo

Tags: Just brotherly fun, they swear

Tay's Masterlist

Read on AO3

“Alright lads, this isn’t any different than the simulator. We’ve done this a thou-“

“Oof!”

“We’ve done this a thousand times before. We’ll go in qui-“

Bang “Agh!”

“Go in quick and quiet. Wrecker, you’ll remain on the Marauder for back up. Shouldn’t be necessary with Crosshair’s eyes on us, but we’ll com-“

Scrape. Bang. “Agh! Fucking wall.”

“Crosshair!” Hunter whipped around to his silver-haired brother causing the other three batchers to halt their march to the hangar. “That thing doesn’t even stick out that far. Just, walk 2 inches more away from the wall!”

Earlier this morning, the sniper was as smug as a pirate on pay day when he was outfitted with his custom sniper perch protruding from his left pauldron.

“Nobody else in the galaxy has an attachment like this. The clankers might as well consider the war lost now,” he crowed, not even noticing his brothers receiving their custom armor before setting out on their first ever mission. This was before Crosshair met an enemy none of them ever anticipated – wall corners.

“I am! You try walking around with a rod poking out from you!” Crosshair shot back.

“Well, just walk on the outside of the group. Tech, go inside.”

“Negative. We tried that formation when leaving the fitting. I am certain my shoulder will be bruised from the amount of times Crosshair’s perch ran into me,” Tech, nose in his datapad, countered.

“Don’t be dramatic. Your shoulder is literally covered in armor,” Crosshair defended, toothpick stabbing at Tech. Pausing his perusing, Tech’s narrowed glare at the sniper was the only response he’d give.

“I got an idea! Why don’t I just carry him to the Marauder?” Wrecker chimed in, moving to take Crosshair under his arm. This earned him a swift punch in the shoulder from the sniper who backed away, poised to strike. As this usually went, Wrecker was only egged on by Crosshair thinking he could take him and advanced on their silver-haired brother as laughter filled the air around them.

Not wanting to be called to the prime minister’s office again this week, moments before their first mission, Hunter stepped in before a brawl broke out in the middle of the hallway.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wrecker, stand down! We’ve gone over this – you can’t antagonize Crosshair for amusement.” Relief passed as he saw Wrecker back off, but not before giving one more fake-out jolt at Crosshair. The sniper was ready to lunge, but Hunter caught him by the waist. “And Crosshair, just because you have eyesight that apparently doesn’t account for depth perception doesn’t mean you have to bite our heads off.”

That earned him a sharp punch in the stomach, but when he felt Crosshair relax, he released him, grumbling and all.

“Alright then. Crosshair, when we come to the corners, just take them wide. You’ll get the hang of it soon. Now, let’s get a move on before we’re late for our first mission.”

The four batchers fell in line once again as Hunter continued where he left off in his strategy briefing. Many corners later, they were coming up to the hangar. Their ship, the Marauder, ready and waiting for them. The excitement was palpable in the air as they reached the gangplank. As they made their way up, Hunter went on with his final orders.

“Alright, Tech, get the ship fired up. We’re out of – “ Scuff, bang, bang. “Oh, for fuck’s sake Crosshair!”