#sergreant hunter x you

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt19)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry

Chapter Nineteen: The Kiss

Hunter wants to push you away when your lips meet his, he really does, and he really should. And he tried not to kiss you back, so much so that you pull away all too quickly, thinking you’ll see nothing on his face but anger. But his mouth follows you on its own volition, and you do not get far before he is reaching out and wrapping an arm around your waist to anchor you to him, and the other pushing your wet hair back.

You meet his intensity with a shocked noise and reciprocating in kind. Both of you chase one another, until you find a rhythm that works. You can feel his tongue on your bottom lip, ever so gently touching it and then pulling away like he’s crossed a line.

For all his hardened shields, Hunter is nothing but gentle on the inside.

“Fuck, beautiful girl,” Hunter whispers when you gasp for air, still holding you close enough to rest your forheads together. “You will be the death of me.” He mumbles, tilting your mouth towards him with a hand under your chin. You kiss him once more before telling Hunter;

“I’ll try not to be.” He hums against you at that, nosing his way into your neck so he can kiss there and hear you gasp and squeak again.

Behind you, someone clears their throat.

Embarrassment and shame at your blatant act floods you more so than the rain. Crosshair and Tech glare at Wrecker for making the noise and spoiling the entertainment moment.

“What?” Wrecker says, “they needed to stop eventually! I mean, come on, we're right here!” Your hands reach your mouth at his words, you cannot believe you just did that in front of them.

“I…” you start, shivering in the cold, looking at Crosshair’s smirk, Echo’s shock and Tech’s surprised face.

“You lot should be ashamed of yourselves.” Hunter says pointedly, turning such that it’s hard for the batch to catch a glimpse of you.

“She kissed you, in front of us.” Crosshair mentions defensively. Before rolling his eyes and heading back to their bunks, the other three not far behind him.

“That, that was so, that, was so, so…” You stammer, feeling ashamed, embarrassed and wondering what they must think of you now.

“Mesh’la, it is alright.” Hunter tells you, thumb moving over your cheek in a calming circle.

“They, what must they think of me? As if I am, I am some kind of scarlet…” Hunter cuts you off again with a small laugh.

“Aaray, you could sleep with anyone and everyone you wanted, and we would not think any less of you.” You stiffen at the mention of sleeping with someone, your prudish proper upbringing not used to this kind of non-shalontness. It makes Hunter chuckle again. “There is very little you could do to lose the respect we have for you.” Your worried eyes meet his sincere ones, and you watch as water travels down his tattoo.

“There are not many men who would share your sentiment.” You tell Hunter, jumping closer to him at the noise of thunder.

“I promise you, Wrecker, Crosshair, Tech and Echo, would never think less of you for this.” He says firmly before adding: “Except have some serious questions about your taste in men.” That makes you smile, before looking behind you to ensure you’re alone, and pulling the sergeant down for another kiss.

The faint evidence of his facial hair growing in moves against your mouth as he does, and this kiss is far more wet thanks to the rain, it feels sloppy, hurried, like Hunter is finally giving in to the fact he can’t get enough of you.

Strong arms pull you flush against sturdy muscle. And he sighs in contentment against your lips because of the sharp intake of breath you gasp for when you connect chest to chest with him.

“Too much?” Hunter asks, you shake your head ‘no’. Putting both hands on his face to feel him, really ground yourself using your sergeant as the anchor. Fingers gently scratching at the hair on the back of his neck. But no matter what the rain has chilled you until you're shivering. “Let’s get you inside.” Hunter says, placing a kiss to your cheek.

You feel far more uneasy in the sergeants room than you ever have before. The soft candlelight flickers in the same way the lightning outside does. Hunter immediately takes his soaked shirt off. And he heads over to his bunk to gather a blanket to wrap around you.

“Hunter…” You start when you realize it’s the only blanket he has.

“It’ll dry.” He answers for you. wrapping you in the old material just to pull you close to him again.

“Can I ask a question?” You wonder aloud, craning your neck to see his facial expressions.

“Of course, Aaray, you can ask me anything.”

“Must I go to Mustafar? Can I not stay here? With you?” You ask softly, as if that helps the question to be less painful.

“You would never be safe, you would always be in danger. And I could not bear it if my selfishness caused you pain.” Hunter tells you. Thinking about all the options and all the ways to rid the galaxy of Volim nython.

“What if he died?” You ask as if you can read his thoughts. “What if he was dead, and couldn’t do us harm?” Hunter chuckles, and boldly presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I admire your tenacity, but I fear you’ve been spending too much time with Crosshair and Wrecker.” Hunter tells you with a smile, when you sigh against him.

“You do not know that, perhaps i have always had a murderous tenacity about me.” You counter, with a playful frown. Hunter hums into your hair in agreement.

“Yes, I do seem to recall you trying to kill me just the other day.” You turn your head to the side so you can lean fully into him. Pressing your ear to his chest above his heart and listening to it beat against you.

“You seem to have recovered just fine.” You smile, hearing the strong and determined beat of his heart.

“I would not have said recovering at all was required, those shots were not even in the same parsec as myself.” Hunter leans his chin on you, still holding you close, such that he can feel your frown.

“Thanks to Echo I would wager I could hit you quite clearly now.” You retort.

“I best not upset you again then.” Hunter says, leaning back so that he can see you. And he tries to conceal the smile that comes of its own accord when he sees you.

Hair flat against your head with the weight of the water, the blanket draped over you which makes you seem smaller than before, and the flicker of your eyelids as you put more weight on the sergeant as you become drowsy.

Hunter cannot think of anyone he’d want here more than you.

Had he been a braver man, or a man more socialized into emotions, he would realize that this is love. Unfiltered, unabided, love. Had he thought about his thoughts more clearly Hunter would realize he would never look at someone the same way again, and that there is no replacement for you in all the galaxy.

How could he possibly let you go?

A question for the morning, he decides. Your eyelids are heavy, your body is cold, and so ever so carefully he leads you to his bed, hushes your protests, and promises not to disturb you.

You know he must not join you in his bed, that would be the end of any proper lady your parents had hoped you would become. Sleeping in a man's bed is fair from appropriate, to have him join you is another thing entirely. And yet, when he leaves you, it feels infinitely colder, lonelier, and like a piece of you is missing.

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Hunter spends his time running through the motions, the sail ties, the anchor chains, and even trying to see through the clouds such that the stars could give him some direction as to where they were. But nothing will change that after a storm as bad as this, they’ll need to dock again for a proper inspection.

Watchful eyes see him pick up the captain's hat from the deck of the ship. Following as he brushes the excess water off to place it back on his head. They see him stand for a moment, as if he is reliving the moment before. How he glances towards his quarters where she must be resting. The longing look in his eyes. The spyglass telescope is marvelous for just such occasions. And as far as Colo Harik is concerned, whatever Embo is about to tell him and his team, is credits well spent.

Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses @loverofclones @beizm @gunsmoke-blu

@logina6 @wondergal2001 @lafy-taffy @lafy-taffy @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s

@starskenobiwan @lordellbell @kaetavlos @violetjedisylveon @​​vergol @Lackofhonor @itsagrimm

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 22)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry

Chapter Twenty-two: The Prayer

You’re thrown to Harrik like a bag of potatoes, as if at the moment you are nothing but an inconvenience. His arm latches around your neck, putting steady pressure where you struggle. You claw at his arm but he’s wrapped in fine cloth and it feels impenetrable. 

They’re going to do it, you can see Nython getting closer to the block. They are going to kill him. 

You cannot help but cry. 

From above you, a man screams as he is kicked off of the watchtower to the house. And with a calculated step on his foot, Harrik cringes backwards, making both of you lose your balance. 

You can’t help the smile that forms when Echo salutes you with two fingers from above. Nython turns towards you craning his neck up. 

It gives you plenty of time to drive Hunter's dagger into Harrik’s thigh. 

Clone force 99 works simultaneously after that. Echo’s brief distraction allows for Tech to gain the upper hand while his guards backs are turned. And for the men surrounding Wrecker and Crosshair, Tech’s double pistols break clean through two sets of shackles, and even though they are unarmed, the odds quickly turn in their favor. 

“Rifle!” Crosshair shouts to his brother, who reaches behind his shoulders to grasp and throw Crosshair his prized possession. For while Wrecker aids Tech on the ground, Crosshair takes stance to back up Echo on the ramparts 

Volim Nython quickly abandons the captive Sergeant in favor of recapturing you. 

Looking back at Harrik you’ve got no choice but to reach for the knife in his leg and pull it out. He exclaims in pain and clamps down on the wound to keep himself from bleeding out. 

“Was he worth it?” Nython asks approaching you, completely unconcerned by the scared look in your eyes and the shaking dagger in your hands. “The rest of them could have lived.” 

“Stay away from me.” You tell him, watching him draw his sword. You cannot fight against that, not with your measly dagger. 

“I do not wish to harm you.” he promises edging closer. 

“I don’t believe you.” You tell him. Stepping backwards in favor of putting as much space between the two of you as possible. And you try to recall everything Echo taught you when shooting a blaster. And you try to remember when you threw a knife at Tech, if there was any hope of hitting him. But then again, you do not need to hit Nython, you just need to get past him. 

The knife flies without a second thought, and he eagerly dodges it, which gives you ample time to sprint past him. 

Not out of the courtyard, not to Tech, Wrecker or Crosshair, not even back into the streets. 

You make a beeline to Hunter. Boots digging into the cobblestone and scraping your knees as you drop to the ground in front of him. 

“Get out of here.” He yells, as you begin to fiddle with the clasp pinning the blocks of wood together around his neck. 

“Not without you!” You exclaim, and you swear you hear him scoff in astonished frustration. When you get the clasp undone you grab Hunter by the shoulders to drag him away from the makeshift guillotine block. Your boots lose grip on the stone, and when you fall you see Volim Nython righting himself. 

A nasty scratch on his shoulder tells you your aim has improved. But his grip on your ankle is bruising as he drags you away from a newly freed Hunter, who, even still bound with his hands behind his back, rushes to your aid. 

While you may not be a practiced fighter, the way you move in time with Hunter suggests that you two have been fighting as partners for some time. Your synchrony marvels that of fencing, every step of yours mirrors his. And at every opportunity Hunter’s bound hands are on your back, or your waist, guiding you as if it was a dance. As if you two have a secret that lets you move in time with one another. It’s almost as if it is fate, pulling puppet strings around the two of you. 

As if there is something bigger than the two of you pulling your movements together. 

It is enough to have Nython staggering backwards, and Harrik trying to limp towards him.  And for a second, the injured Harrik and Nython falter. When you turn to stand up you see why. 

Echo is standing in the archway into the building, clearly he and Crosshair have vacated the Ramparts. Echo walks towards the group whilst righting his blood stained shirt. Crosshair, Tech and Wrecker take up position behind you, and with one fluid movement, Wrecker puts his hands on the chain connecting Hunter’s wrists and yanks them apart. Harrik pales at the display of strength. Now all five of them stand behind you, a very obvious statement. 

If you want her, you go through us. 

In a massive lapse of judgment, Hunter steps forward, locking eyes with the man in question, daring him to move towards you, he turns his gaze to you.

“I missed you.” He says gently wrapping his arm around your waist. Oh so smug in the way your hands immediately wrap around his shoulders to reach up to his hair. 

“Never do that to me again.” You tell him firmly. Watching as he chuckles lightly. 

“I promise.” He says, before leaning down to place a single longing kiss on your lips. A massive ‘fuck you’ to the man across the courtyard. 

“Are we not in the middle of something?” Crosshair seethes. 

“And I don't recall hearing a ‘thank you’ either.” Echo points out. Hunter grunts in recognition, and turns his attention to Volim Nython. 

“We are finished here. Leave us be, and you will not be troubled again.” It is a bargain, one Hunter cannot possibly think the man across the courtyard will take.

“If you think for one moment I will be upstaged by a group of degenerate clones…” Nython can barely spit the words out in anger. 

“We are not asking.” Hunter states. 

“That is my wife. My property, she belongs…” 

“To no one.” You cut in, “I belong to myself, and myself only. I chose to give my heart to those who are worthy. And you, Volim Nython, are not worthy of me.” Your confidence is surprising even to yourself, but Hunter squeezes your hip reassuringly, looking down at you with a love-forsaken smile. You reach up to caress Hunter’s bruised face, “let's get you back to the marauder.” you whisper. The metal of the remainder of the chains is cold against you, but Hunter is warm to the touch, and firm, a familiarity that you are becoming more and more at home with. 

This familiarity leads you away from the courtyard, his nose pressed to your hairline and breathing deeply. 

“This is absurd!” Nython explodes, “you have known her for what, a fortnight? No woman is worth this, what could that wench have possibly done to gain your favors? What witches spell has the scarlet cast upon you? Or are clones so feeble minded any orders given are followed?”

Hunter has every intention of ignoring him. 

“Did you murder your jedi for something as simple as a woman to warm your bed?” 

You feel the air go cold, and Hunter tense up in your grasp. You see the way Crosshair looks down in shame and guilt, and the sadness the wracks wreckers eyes. You see a million memories float across Echo’s mind. 

You feel a million voices call out in terror, and then suddenly silenced. 

But before any of Clone Force 99 can retaliate, they watch something miraculous happen. 

“Coward!” You scream, turning on your heel and stalking back towards Nython and Harrik. Both of them take a small step backwards in shock, a woman who previously never left Coruscant, living a sheltered life, had transformed. You walk towards them covered in dirt, wielding a small bloody knife, and a look in your eyes that is reminiscent of a predator hunting its prey. It is only then that Volim Nython discovers he had made a fatal error in taking you as his wife. 

“You think you have power?” you are seething with rage, “do you think yourself better than us because of a title or a birthright? Do you think you bleed any differently than a clone?” 

“She’s gone mad!” Harrik declares in fear as you come closer and closer. 

“I am going to tell you this once, consider it your final warning.” You gesture to Nython with your blade. “Those men behind me, I would do anything for them, and they would do anything for me. I could snap my fingers and Clone Force 99 would bring me your head on a platter. That is power. You could not pay, threaten or beg anyone to do for you what we have done for each other, and that is where you have failed. I am finished living in fear, now it is your turn.” 

“Start running.” Hunter’s voice reverberates through the courtyard, the Bad Batch at your command behind you. 

The seperatist lord Volim Nython and his men scurry away like rats in a flood. 

Clone Force 99 leisurely returns to their ship, captain and stowaway in tow.

Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses @loverofclones @beizm @gunsmoke-blu

@logina6 @wondergal2001 @lafy-taffy @lafy-taffy @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s

@starskenobiwan @lordellbell @kaetavlos @violetjedisylveon @​​vergol @Lackofhonor @itsagrimm

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt20)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry

Chapter Twenty: The Disaster

The trees that fall within the forest, catch on one another. Never a clean break, some take other trees with them, others remain suspended mid air, held by the strength of trees yet to be burned. 

Volim Nython makes it back to safety in time to watch the forest of ​​Kashyyyk fall into ashes. 

“Any trouble sir?” Colo Harik asks, standing beside the man in question. 

“None particularly, but even I can admit those clones are tenacious.” Thinking back to the clone he encountered. Wondering how long it took him before he abandoned the wookie child in favor of his own life, or if he had sacrificed himself such that the child would have a chance of survival. 

Either way, it is not as if it matters, it is not as if he will ever see them again.

The wookie child bangs on the door with their small fists as Hunters knuckles connect with the metal with a sickening crunch. Bruised, and cut bloodily, how his hands even manage to stay in form is a mystery. But the dent in the door is enough to keep the sergeant going. 

It is almost open. Is Hunter’s mantra, the door will give, the child will live, he will see his brothers again. 

It is almost open. 

With a particularly loud bang, the tree begins to break, and the door shifts on its hinges, bending outwards as his fists hit the middle once more. 

He pushes the young Wookie through without thinking. They give a small cry when they notice he hasn't followed. Hunter looks at the kid, at the gap, and rips his chestplate off. 

Even then he barely makes it through, foot catching and him kicking off his military boot, and losing a shin guard. Everything hurts, the metal is unforgiving on his body. And still, when he is through, he clings to the young wookie in fear, like he’s a shiny all over again. 

The wookie offers him his disgaruded helmet with scared eyes and soft hands. With a bare foot in the mud, the child held to his chest, Hunter takes off into the remnants of the forest of ​​Kashyyyk. 

He collapses into a ditch and hopes the separatists run out of ammunition, or that his corpse will protect the young wookie. 

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You wake to yet more yelling, but it is not between the five men as you would expect, there’s even more voices to be heard. The northern port of Naboo is somehow even busier than that of Alderaan, and from the sounds of it they’re pickier about the ships that dock there too. 

You wake with parts of your clothes still damp. They feel itchy and awful against your skin, but you ignore it to the best of your ability. And once again, your hair seems to be impossibly tangled. Combing through it with your fingers, and smoothing out your shirt, before dawning Hunter’s long, hefty jacket and stepping out of his cabin. 

For such a storm the night before, the port of Naboo seems insanely calm. The sky appears to be clear, and Wrecker passes you with a smile, and Gonk on his shoulder. 

“G’morning Araay!” He greets you cheerfully. 

“Good morning Wrecker,” You respond in kind, before your face falls. “Are we in Mustafar already?” You begin looking around, trying to grasp your surroundings. 

“This is the most north-east port of Naboo.” Tech interrupts, walking down the steps from the main bridge. “Hunter believed we should check for damage caused by the storm.” The man in the goggles explained skeptically. You hum in agreement to try and sound like you know what Tech would be referring to. 

“Has anyone seen-” You trail off when Crosshair also approaches, having climbed down from the bird's nest. 

“Your lover?” Crosshair interjects with a satisfied smirk. 

“We are not lovers.” You tell him pointedly. 

“Yes you…” He begins, 

“I think it’s cute” Wrecker interrupts 

“I think it’s none of our business.” Tech joins in. 

“Well they made it our business when they-” 

“Don’t be such a hard ass Cross’air”

“Do not tell me what to do. Wrecker.” 

“Stop being so childish, both of you…”

“Is anyone going to tell me where Hunter is?” You ask, before having to repeat yourself in a raised tone just to be heard over their arguing. All three of them continue to bicker quietly for a few moments. 

“He went on a supply run.” Crosshair says, frowning at his brothers. Watching you as you slip in between the three men and start heading to disembark. 

“He should be returning soon.” Tech tells you, you don't need to go get him is what he really wants to say, but given that you’re about as stubborn as a bantha, he feels like it would be a waste of breath. You look at him with raised eyebrows, Tech sighs and shakes his head.

“If you’re so concerned, come with me, in fact we could all have a lovely family outing.” You tease with a sickly sweet tone. 

“This is not a family.” Crosshair argues pointing to everyone.

“Of course it is!” Wrecker, once again argues. “If we weren't family, why would we put up with each other?” 

“Someone should stay with the ship.” Tech says walking away to check his holopad. Crosshair gives one last deep sigh, and resigns himself to his fate. Grabbing his rifle before following you and Wrecker down to the dock. 

“I will use this if I have to.” He tells both of you, “whether it is on you two or myself.” 

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Hunter finds himself completely out of his depth, standing in a women's clothing boutique. His argument is that you need more than one set of clothes, but he did not account for the sheer complexity of female fashion. And when he realizes he does not even know your measurements, the famed sergeant surrenders for the first time in his life, and gives up. 

Determined not to return empty handed, and fueled by a desire to get you something that is nice, he stops by a fruit cart, muling over his options, and the price of fresh food these days. Hunter is admiring a selection of Jogan Fruit’s when he hears an unfamiliar voice. 

“I didn’t know pirates were so interested in simple things.” Hunter translates the Kyuzo words subconsciously. And he puts the Jogan down slowly but firmly, in such a way that has the stall owner looking nervously from one man to the other. 

“Embo.” He greets, seeing the unmistakable hat. “I do not believe we have business together.” He tells him firmly. 

“The girl.” The bounty hunter tells the sergeant seriously. Noticing when his jaw clenches at the mention of you. 

“What girl?” Hunter tries to play it off, but the way his shoulders tighten gives everything away. 

“Where’s the girl?” Embo demands, and he can see Hunters mind racing through the possibilities. A Bounty Hunter as revered as him wouldn’t be asking the whereabouts of his prey. And if Hunter is not the intended target, why would Embo give himself away this easily. But perhaps it is not about the motives of the employed, but that of their employer. 

So what is it that Nython wants?

A scapegoat. 

Hunter comes to the conclusion all too late, he should have bolted the second he recognized Embo, he should have run while he had the chance. He never should have left your side. 

His viroblade connects with the metal of Embo’s signature hat, and Hunter finds himself receiving a foot to the chest, and collapsing into the fruit cart. This commotion is enough to scatter the remaining people in the busy street. 

He hears the way the hat slices through the air before he sees it, and manages to roll himself off of the debris in time. Hunter draws his blaster and fires three shots in quick succession, Embo is taller than he is, and Hunter knows better than to try and outrun one of the galaxy's fammed bounty hunters. 

All that’s left to do is fight. 

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Crosshair will not stop frowning, but you think he’s having a nice time nevertheless. Wrecker, having found some fresh food to take back to the marauder, is happy. He keeps offering some of his snacks to Crosshair, and ultimately giving it to Gonk when he’s turned away from his sour brother. 

You take in Naboo to the best of your ability, trying not to get too distracted by the hustle and bustle of the shops and people. And everything so lovely until the three of you hear the screams and gasps of a shocked crowd. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, when Crosshair grips your arm as the many people take off like a river of water flowing against the three of you. When the sound of a blaster rings through the air, the crowd starts moving even faster. 

“Wrecker!” Crosshair exclaims, pushing you towards his brother, clearly having seen something the two of you have not. Your eyes follow the sniper as he scales the nearest building. 

“Where is he going?” You ask, looking around frantically. You see Wrecker's face drop suddenly and you know he sees something you can’t. 

“We need to get back to the ship.” He’s trying to play it down, keep you calm, but he isn't a good liar. You turn to follow his gaze and that's when you see it. 

Hunter facing off against what can only be a skilled fighter, from the trouble he seems to be giving the sergeant. You flinch and duck when a sniper bolt connects with the man's metal hat. Crosshair has gone for the highest vantage point. 

“Get back to the ship.” Wrecker rushes out, pressing a pistol into your hand. “Find Tech, tell him what's happening.” 

“I cannot leave y-”

“Array!” Bile fills your stomach at the sound of Wreckers anxiety. “He’s here for you.” Another ping of Crosshairs rifle says he still hasn't hit his intended target. 

“Wrecker!” Crosshair shouts, before he falls into the cart that was tossed into the middle of the street. His rifle skittering to the side. Above him, Colo Harrik and his men surround the rooftops. Wrecker shoves you into the doorway you’re standing nearest. 

“I believe we’ve made our point, that's enough Embo.” Colo Harrik declares. Hunter, who resides at the unfortunate end of a sword hesitantly raises his hands. Wrecker and Crosshair are pulled into the middle of the square. 

“You are a tenacious bunch, aren't you?” He chuckles to himself in memory of the war, before addressing the sergeant. “Where is she?” When Hunter remains silent Harrik sends a swift kick into his chest that has him doubling over. 

“Go fuck yourslef Harrik.” Crosshair spits, prompting one of the men to push him into the ground. 

“So crass,” he responds disgustedly. “I really cannot fathom what she sees in any of you.” 

“Common decency perhaps.” Wrecker responds immediately. Colo Harrik scofs. 

“Decency. If she had any decency she would have returned to her husband by now.” 

“He is not her husband.” All eyes turn to Hunter, who for the first time since the ordeal began, is speaking. 

“So he does speak!” Harrik rejoices, watching his men struggle to cuff the man in question. “I wonder how infuriating it will be when she comes crawling back to him. When she tells the public of the horrors of her kidnapping. When she details the disgusting treatment she received from the Kaminoan clones, and how one of them even had the audacity to try and force her to love him.” Hunter struggles in earnest now. 

“She’s never going back to coruscant.” He tells him.

“We shall see,” He says before raising his voice. “Spread the word men! Bring back Volim Nythons wife, or the Clone pirates will hang!” Your blood runs cold. And you watch Harrik wave a circle with his hand before Crosshair, Wrecker and Hunter are dragged up and away.

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[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 23/23)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry

Chapter Twenty-three: The Epilogue

“Uncle! Uncle!” The children call to the graying long haired man, little arms reaching out for affection. He knows what they want, to be perched on his lap and to listen to him recount memories of times gone by. 

“Yes ad'ika?” he coos to them, hoisting them closer to him, balancing the two growing kids. 

“Tell us a story before bed?” The youngest of the two asks, her curious eyes wandering to make sure her Buir has not noticed neither she or her brother are in bed as they are supposed to be. 

“A short one, I do not wish to face the wrath of your papa.” He relents, never being able to deny either child. “Which one would you like to hear?” it is a rhetorical question, he knows exactly which tale they want him to recount. “Perhaps about the time we rescued a baby Rancor? Or maybe-” 

“The story of the pirate queen!” He gets cut off by the children simultaneously. 

“Alright, alright.” He agrees, leaning back into the chair, wrapping his arms around the kids. “Once upon a time, there was a princess of Coruscant, she would spend her days, kept away in her castle, reading and teaching herself about the history of this world, but never experiencing it. Until one day, she was to be wed, but not by her wishes. And so very bravely, she ran from her castle, and down to the docks of Coruscant, but where would she run? Who could she trust? And so in the matter of only a few moments, the gorgeous princess of Coruscant, became a stowaway on a ship crawling with pirates. And she hid, very well for a short time, but she was discovered by the pirates who were furious at her trickery, for she was so well disguised they did not recognize the princess at first.  One pirate wanted to throw her over board, one suggested they return her to coruscant…” 

“And one of them threw her in the brig.” A sly voice interrupted as he walked by the trio. “Aren't you Womp Rats supposed to be in bed?” he added. 

“Shhhhh we’re getting to the good part!” The young boy hushed. 

“And the princess does get thrown in the brig,” the storyteller continues. “But she is determined, and stubborn, and so she wriggles out a nail and by the miracles of the force, breaks her way out of the brig. And tells the pirates that if she can escape the vile prince who wishes to marry her, she will pay them mountains of treasures. And so the pirates agree to help her run from her royalty. But soon they discover that the prince, filled with rage, has hired armies to track down the princess. And the pirate captain is captured! But what the evil prince does not realize is that through her journey with the pirates, the princess has broken down their hard shells and wriggled her way into their hearts. Pirates, you see, are fiercely loyal, the prince’s fatal mistake was underestimating this. And the pirate captain has fallen in love with the princess of Coruscant, and perhaps, he believes that she may have fallen in love with him.” 

He pauses for a moment to see if the children have fallen asleep in his lap as they usually do. When he is met with their small faces, hanging onto his every word, he smiles and continues. 

“The pirate vows to return to his love. But before he can make his escape, the princess herself returns to Coruscant, leading his brethren in tow…” “What does brethren mean?” The young girl whispers to her brother. 

“It is like his brothers.” He whispers back before shushing her for interrupting the story. 

“And she storms the castle, determined to return her pirate captain to her arms. The prince has underestimated the princess, she has metamorphosed into a queen, but not just any queen, the queen of the pirates…” 

“What does Metamorphosed mean?” she asks, getting hushed b y her brother again. 

“She is almost unrecognizable to the Coruscanti prince, and she gives him a choice. Return the pirate captain to her, or death.” Behind him where his quick witted brother is gathering the children's blankets, he rolls his eyes with a sigh:

“So dramatic” 

“Well is that not how the story goes?” his Vode counters, earning him another eyeroll. “Anyways,” he continues. “The prince realizes he is horribly outnumbered and he surrenders to the pirate queen. Her captain is returned to her, and they sail off with their brethren to rule the seas. She makes a name for herself as the bringer of justice within the oceans. Her captain by her side, and the pirates who are finally able to find a place to call home. The end.” He finishes the story. 

“But what happened to her? Is she still out there, the pirate queen?” The young boy asks, just as nosy as his uncle, and the man he is named after. 

“I am sorry Ad’ika, the pirate queen lived long ago, her story is hundreds of years old.” 

“I bet she was a jedi as well.” tThe young girl says in awe. “She can't be a pirate and a jedi.” Her brother argues.  

“But the jedi lived long ago so she must have at least known the jedi!” She counters, her brother goes to argue with his little sister as per usual, but they both fall silent when their father walks in, hands on his hips. 

“I do believe I sent you both up to bed,” He states. “Your mother is going to be very upset with me.” He sighs, holding out his arms, and pulling them both up to carry them to bed. 

“I'm sure they’ll be fine.” The storyteller says, standing to place a kiss on both of their foreheads, bidding them goodnight with a smile.

A smile that only grows when he hears a door creak open, and you walk by, as if you’re a siren in the night. Caressing the tiny faces of the children and giving them a soft kiss before bed, not breaking stride in order to dump the collection of Meiloorun fruits that need chopping for breakfast tomorrow. The door shuts as the children are carried away, and you do not have to turn around to know whose arms are warping around your middle. 

“You know one day they will figure out that, that story is grossly exaggerated and did not take place many many moons ago.” You chide the captain. 

“I have never grossly exaggerated anything in my life.” He says, kissing your cheek. 

“Mmhmm.” You muse, unconvinced, turning into his touch. 

“And you are my queen.” He concurs, the hands on your hips flip you so you’re facing him and he can lift you onto the counter. 

“Hunter.” You warn him, only a little peeved that he interrupted your breakfast preparation. One of his hands snakes into your hair pulling your mouth to his, ignoring your protest and kissing you deeply, hungrily. Every kiss is just as frantic as the first one the two of you shared. 

“I do believe we need more than two little ones running around.” He whispers to you, forehead pressed to your own. 

“Those two aren’t ours, you can have that  conversation with your brothers should you want more.” You sass, moving to get off the counter, but he steps closer, keeping you pinned. 

“That is my point, they are not ours.” 

“Hunter, have we not had this conversation? And mutually decided that for now at the very least we do not need children?” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“Does the pirate queen not need heirs to her legacy?” He teases, kissing you again. 

“Perhaps…” You look into his eyes, taken with them as ever. Before reaching out to pull his lips to yours again. 

Outside the Havoc Marauder rocks in the waves, quietly lulling everyone to a peaceful sleep.

the end

Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

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[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 18)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry

Chapter Eighteen: The Storm

By the time the men make their way back from the small village at the foot of the mountains of Geonosis, you’ve tracked Gonk down again, and are running your hands through her small feathers.

And by the time you’ve left the harbor, Wrecker declares that your training must begin with sword combat.

“It is the basics after all.” He argues, when Echo and Tech exchange concerned looks.

“How, exactly, is that the basics?” Tech asks, folding his arms over his chest. “Evidently I should be in charge of this. We can start with basic hand to hand combat.” At that, Crosshair rolls his eyes, and you wonder how the orbs haven't taken up permanent residence at the back of his head. Behind him, Echo scoffs.

“Clearly none of you have ever trained someone to do anything.” He states. You like to think he’s looking better than he was this morning, but from the angle at which he stands, it’s more likely he’s just gotten used to hiding the pain.

“And where is this extensive teaching history from?” Crosshair pipes up.

“From being an ARC Trooper.” Echo fires back, letting the guilty silence from the rest of the batch speak for itself.

“What is an ARC trooper?” You ask, watching as Echo limps over to you, blaster in hand.

“Advanced Recon Commandos, abbreviated to ARC’s, were an elite variant of standard clone troopers.” Echo tells you like it’s second nature to him.

“Regs.” Crosshair says under his breath.

“Identifiable via Pauldrons and a Kama, ARC’s were usually utilized to handle situations, battles or missions, less suitable for a ‘regular’ clone.” Echo sounds like he’s reciting some kind of manual, which, you figure, he probably was. As he does this, he also takes the time to unload one of his blasters, switch on the safety, and check the barrel for any debris.

“That sounds like quite the force to be reckoned with.” You say, wondering for the first time, what Echo was like before the Techno Union.

“We were.” He says firmly, but solemnly. “Becoming an ARC Trooper was, well, it was rare to say the least.”

“Well, Domino Squad was known for its rarity. I'll give you that.” Tech adds, leaning against the railing of the ship, where they’ve decided training will be safest.

“Thanks.” Echo says, only a little sarcastically, before holding the blaster out to you for you to take.

“So are you Clone Force 99 or are you the Domino Squad?” You ask, hesitantly picking up the weapon. Crosshair lets out a laugh at that.

“Echo was a part of Domino Squad, the rest of us make up Clone Force 99. He joined the Bad Batch later.” Tech explains, Echo sees the confusion on your face.

“The Bad Batch is our unofficial designation, I got lumped with these guys after the Techno Union, when the rest of my Squad, including another ARC trooper, had been dead for some time.” He explains, “think of it like this, we are all brothers, but Domino Squad was made up of my twins… in a way.”

“I’m so sorry you lost them,” You tell him, and all of the clones blink at you, after all of your questions, you express your condolences first? Crosshair laughs again.

“You are something else aren't ya.” He says, putting a toothpick in his mouth and walking back to the main deck. You look to Tech for a response to his twin's action.

“People don’t mourn clones.” He tells you factually.

“I do.” You counter him without a second thought.

“You, little Aaray, are an enigma.” Echo responds.

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Echo, as it turns out, is an amazing teacher. He starts by making you memorize how to safely handle a blaster. Things like, how to remove the charge casing, and how to turn the safety on and off. And by the time you can hit something consistently, the sun begins to set.

“Has anyone seen Hunter?” Tech asks, strolling up to you and Echo, waterskins in hand. He looks perplexed when you both say that you haven't seen the captain today.

“Is something wrong?” You cannot help but ask.

“According to my predictions there will be a storm tonight.” Tech says, turning around again, most likely to shout at Wrecker or Crosshair.

Tech does his best to ignore his two brothers as he passes them. Opting to head straight to the captains quarters, hell bent on forcing Hunter into utilizing the calming salts he picked up from the apothecary on Alderaan.

“Captain?” He talks instead of knocking. And he finds Hunter hunched over maps. Placing a bit of food in front of him, Tech crosses his arms.

“Yes?” Hunter asks when he sees the way the goggles stare down at him.

“What has kept you so occupied today?” Well, Tech was never one for sugar coating things anyways.

“Trying to find a quicker way to Mustafar.” Hunter tells him, running a hand through his hair, he almost shivers at the memory of your hands entangled in it.

“There isn’t one.” Tech tells him, annoyed that he didn’t simply ask and save himself the time. “Dare I ask why the sudden rush?”

“She’s a danger to us.” Hunter responds simply. Arching an eyebrow at Tech's thoughtful hum. “You disagree” He questions.

“I think that Aaray is in fact, beneficial to the crew.” He says, watching for Hunter’s reaction. “Hunter.” He proposes firmly. “Did something happen?”

“You’re dismissed.” Hunter states, knowing Tech can tell when anyone is lying, that karking knowledge-obsessed brain of his.

“There will be a storm tonight.” Tech tells him, not moving just yet.

“We will sail through it.” Hunter says gesturing to his door.

“It is safer for us to lay an anchor and wait it out.” Tech argues.

“We sail through, I'm not wasting time because some rain has made you skittish, soldier.” The military designation takes Tech aback some. He concludes that something most certainly happened between you and the sergeant, but he cannot know for certain what exactly took place.

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You wake to the loudest thunderstorm of your life. Scared senseless not only from the noise but the way Gonk’s eyes bore into you from your spot on the floor. You scoop her up, standing in the middle of the room as Crosshair, and Tech struggle to get up with the vicious movement of the vessel. One particular wave sends you to your knees with the force the ship collides into it with.

“Where’s Wrecker!” You shout over the sound of the rain on wood. Your question answers itself when he pokes his head in from outside. Having wrenched the door open.

“Aha!” He chuckles, “This oughta be a good one!” before turning around to head back out into the storm. Tech dashes past you, already shouting about the sail ties.

“Stay. Here.” Crosshair tells you, standing surprisingly stable. Before also heading out into the storm. You look over to Echo, as one wave sends you both into the floor.

“Crosshair is right.” Echo says, before adding: “Stay. Here.” as he stands again, you don’t miss the way his metal leg slips on the grain of the wood.

“Echo…” You try, but he’s so determined, by the time you say his name he’s gone. Worry fills you immediately, and you know you need to stay put, that you’ll only get in their way. It is stupid to ignore them on this matter, but it does not stop you from putting Gonk in a hammock and making your way to the door that leads outside.

The sky is not as nearly dark as it should be. The lightning provides enough light to see, and while most of the oil lanterns have gone out, the few that are still alight cannot compare with nature's bright white streaks in the sky. Wrecker wrestles at the helm of the ship, using his strength to fight with the wheel and keep the ship as steady as possible. Tech and Crosshair are yanking one of the sail ties tighter, it clearly having slipped at some point. And yet again, the sergeant is nowhere to be found.

You wonder if that’s your fault.

A massive wave that was hidden by the darkness of the water hits the ship with such a force it sends everyone but Wrecker to the ground, and immediately soaks you through to your bones. Wiping the water off of your face you look see Tech and Crosshair trying to wrestle with a piece of rope that is too wet to get a good grip on. And when the wind picks up again and catches on the sail which is connected to the rope, neither Crosshair or Tech have a hope of keeping it at bay.

Echo however is on the floor of the vessel, both hands white knuckling the second piece of rope for the same sail. With both feet pushed against the wooden support, he sits as the last defense to total chaos.

You run to him without a second thought. Skidding where the rain has slicked the wood you make it to Echo just before another wave, from the other side this time, crashes into the ship.

A number of things happen in quick succession. Echo legs lose purchase on the wood, the wind picks up again, bringing the sail with it. The rope pulls itself through his frail hands no matter how hard Echo grips it, and as he lets go in pain, your hands fly out to catch the sail tie.

Through the pivot of the buckle that the rope is usually tied to, the wind pulls you into the support beam. But someone catches you before you can make devastating contact with the wood.

Hunter. Soaked to the bone, hair flat against his bandana and clothes sticking to his muscles, Hunter. He rips the rope from your hands and deftly ties it in place.

“Lay anchor!” He shouts to Tech and Crosshair, who comply with the order happily. And as the heavy iron makes contact on the ocean floor, the ship gives one final lurch before it stops moving. Hunter is dripping water from above you, but in your brief panic you grasped onto him nonetheless. The Sergeant steps away from you coldly, but it gives you enough room to move to check on Echo.

“He’s fine.” Hunter tells you, a hint of jealousy creeping through.

“He was almost killed.” You bite back at the monotone man. Hunter scoffs at that, and raises his eyebrows when you reel on him. “Do you not care? Look at him, look at your crew!”

“Echo is a solider-” he starts

“In what war!?” You scream over the sound of the rain hitting the wooden planks. Behind the sergeant you see Tech gingerly help Echo up, and even Crosshair moves to aid him. It’s a slight movement of his hands, and he stops when he hears you scream at Hunter. An unknown emotion on the sniper's face. “You are not at war anymore.” You tell him shakily.

“Yes. We are. Against that empire of yours, against-“ He’s so angry his voice is steady in that dangerous way, but it doesn’t stop you interrupting him again.

“You lost!” You’re crying but with the rain that’s soaked you through you don’t think he can tell. “And I am very sorry that you did, but you lost. And now it’s time to come home.” Hunter can see you trembling, they all can see you trembling.

“And what happens if I can’t? If I can’t come home until the mission is done?” No one but you heard him over the cracking sky.

“Nothing.” Rain pours down his back off of his hat when he looks at you. “Nothing happens, and nothing continues to happen, nothing fills the parts of you that are supposed to be your brothers, it takes hold and it grips tight. Until there’s nothing but that nothing. And there’s so much of it that it doesn’t even hurt anymore, there’s no room for anything but that nothingness. And when you drift away there’s so much nothingness and you’re so alone you don’t even realize that there’s people who will miss you.”

He takes precious steps towards you, until you’re close enough that he can reach out and push matted wet hair out of your face. You shake in his grasp. Unsure of what he will do next, his face impossible to read.

“Mesh’la I’m afraid I’m already too far gone. I think that my brothers deserve better, but I know that you deserve better.”

“We do not want better. We want you Hunter.”

“Mesh’la…” he starts tears falling in the rain, and even with his brothers watching even if the storm even when you’re so lost in emotion you should not be making brash actions like this, you pull pull him by his coat collar until you can hold his face, knock his hat off with your motions and give him such a bruising kiss he has no choice but to understand how much he means to you.

Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

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[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 21)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry

Chapter Twenty-one : The Well Thought Out, but Poorly Executed, Plan.

You bolt back to the Havoc Marauder, running as fast as you can until you cannot tell if you’re gasping for breath out of fear or exhaustion. You reach the docks and start pushing people aside like a madwoman. 

“Tech!” You all but screech, hoping, praying he can hear you over the sounds of the bustle. “Echo!” You call, before tripping on something in your haste and hitting the deck at the bottom of the gang plank. Hands help you up, and your eyes meet Tech’s which soften immensely when he sees your distress and connects the dots. 

“What happened?” He asks, trying to stop the frantic look in your eyes that keeps darting back and forth. 

“There, there was this man.” You get out before dissolving into hysteria. “He and, and Hunter they- they… oh maker.” Tech recognises the signs of a panic attack before you do. And pulls you close to him as he leads you up the plank and into the crew’s quarters for some privacy. 

“What’s going on?” Echo asks, limping in. 

“H-harrik,” you breathe out shakily. Watching Echo’s face drop. “I’m so so-sorry” You choke on the words. And begin pulling at the front tie corset you’re wearing frantically. You can’t breathe, it's so tight, why can't you breathe? 

“It’s alright, Aaray, it is alright.” Tech tries, 

“It is not alright!” You shout, before dissolving into tears again. “They’re going to han-” you can't finish the words. Sliding down the wall until you're sitting, knees to chest in order to feel some kind of stability. 

“Where, aaray?” Echo asks gently, “Where is Harrik taking them?” 

“Coruscant.” 

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ 

Echo sits with you while Tech readies the ship. You do your best to relay what happened. How the three of them were surrounded, how Wrecker told you to run, and how they all sacrificed themselves for you. 

“He wants me returned,” you say, “it is that or they die.” Echo runs a hand down his face. “I’ll do it.” you say turning towards him on the floor. “I will marry him, I will.” It is almost like you're begging, trying to bargain with Echo even though he’s not Nython or Harrik. “If it means they’ll be safe…” 

Echo says your name very seriously and takes your hands. “You are not going to marry him. That is not what is going to happen. Do you hear me?” 

“But…” You start. 

“But nothing.” He cuts you off. You can tell he is thinking about something, but you are not sure what. 

“We need a plan, something, anything to get them back.” Tech interrupts your rambling as he enters the room. 

“Our best bet is to intercept their ship on the way to Coruscant.” He says. 

“That’s a terrible idea.” Echo tells him, unimpressed. “How do we know the route they will take, how do we know how many men are on board?”

“A lot less men than are waiting for their arrival at Cursocant!” Tech retorts. 

“Listen.” Echo argues, “I know going by the book isn't your speciality but-” 

“I maintain that we never had the help of Jedi generals on our missions.” Tech fires

“I maintain that I never had to de-empire my twin!” Echo sasses. 

“Crosshair is not my twin!” Tech defends. 

“Crosshair worked for the empire?” You ask shocked and upset. 

“Yes!” They both exclaim. Before looking at each other and continuing to argue, at some point Echo stands up,  

“There’s only so much we can do, they’re essentially P.O.W’s now.” Echo sighs. 

“What’s a P.O.W?” you ask again, anything to break up the argument. 

“Prisoner of war.” Tech responds, 

“But you’re not at war.” You wonder if the term still applies to clones held captive. Both men stop and look at you, then back at each other. 

“She’s right.” Echo says, “that means…”

“We’re not bound by traditional rules of combat.” Tech finishes. He tilts his head slightly at Echo, as if they’re communicating without words now. 

“A false surrender.” Tech says eyes dating over to you briefly. 

“Careful now,” Echo cautions, “that’s a very dangerous plan.” 

“A false Surrender, is that not illegal?” You ask. Watching Tech’s smile grow at your question. 

“It is a war crime, yes. But as you said, we are not at war.” 

“Tech.” Echo warns again, looking sheepishly at you. 

“Oh,” you realize why they’re staring at you now. “You want me to hand myself in.” 

“Not exactly.” Tech corrects, looking at Echo who throws his hands up in defeat and walks to rest in a hammock. “We will hand you over in return for Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair. Once we have them back the odds are decidedly more in our favor. It is, after all, easier to fight to save one person rather than three.” You stay silent for a moment. Thinking it all over, before coming to a conclusion. 

“I want Nython dead.” You tell them both, watching as they nod in agreement. “But I want to be the one to do it.” Echo’s head shoots up at that, shocked at your demand. “And I want them to know it was me.” There’s an emotion in your eyes neither man recognizes. 

“I agree that for you to live peacefully Nython must perish..” Tech starts, but he stops when your eyes meet his. 

You’ve thrown knives, fired blasters, and not once did the crew of the Havoc Marauder think you were malicious or dangerous. 

Until now. 

“I want him dead.” Your voice shakes, barely. “And I want it done by my hand. I want…” you stop to console the emotions building inside of you. “I want every Coruscanti lord to know what happens when they try to take a woman's life from her, when they push her to desperation, when they think that they can take and take and take, without any repercussions. I want him to fear me as I have feared him.”  Echo stands up again, looking at you from your spot on the floor. 

“And I want him to pay for what he did to you and your brothers.” You finish, watching Echo extend his hand to help you up. When you’re standing he looks at you with the kind of conviction only a soldier has. 

“Wait here.” Tech says, leaving quickly i search of something. 

“Was it too much?” You ask Echo softly. 

“Absolutely not.” He answers, as you both head to the door, allowing the fresh sea air to grace your features. Tech returns with a small dagger, a skull etched into the blade and obvious wear and tear that speaks to the history of the knife. 

“Take it, you can hide it among your clothes easily.” He tells you, watching as your hands hold it, and see it glimmer in the sunlight.  “Hunter stopped using it when the war ended. Something about too many memories. But, it means a great deal to him still, so it makes sense for you to carry it.” 

For good measure, Tech plonks a hat on your head, Because if you’re going to be a pirate, you might as well look the part.  

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Hunter, Crosshair and Wrecker are put into separate cells in the bottom of Harriks ship. And he wishes you were here. Even if it is just to use your escapist skills for the bars that hold them in. He knows they’ll reach Coruscant within the day, damn the Haydian way Currents, damn the bounty hunter, damn it all to hell. 

Harrik walks down the stairs with his two biggest guards, it is not a very effective intimidation tactic given that Wrecker towers over them easily. Ignoring this, he dags over a stool to sit in front of Hunter. 

“I am going to ask you a few questions.” Harrik says, watching Hunter raise an eyebrow expecting a threat of tourture should he not comply. “And if I think you’re co-operating, the charges for your comrades can be lessened.” Harrik gestures vaguely to Wrecker and Crosshair. “I know there’s no point in threatening you, but at least consider their livelihood.” Hunter remains silent. 

“Out of curiosity, how did you come across the girl?” He asks. 

He gets no answer. 

“Why not give her up on Alderaan?” 

Nothing but the sound of waves against the ship. 

“I am being quite generous here, Sergeant.” Harrik warns, “Do you not want them to live?” 

Hunter wants nothing more than to be out of his cuffs and fighting again. 

“I guess not then.” Harrik stands, kicking the stool away, and going back up the stairs to his crew. “I am sure Lord Nython will be able to get something out of you.” 

Hunter was right, they reach Coruscant within the day, and the amount of guards awaiting them is almost laughable. And yet, there is still no sign of Volim Nython. 

“What’s the plan, Hunter?” Crosshair whispers to him as they disembark the ship. When he doesn't get an answer, Crosshair opens his mouth for a snarky comment but nothing comes. 

“Take those two down to the brig,” Harrik calls, separating Hunter from his brothers. “Bring this one with me.” 

The main hall is where Hunter is bought, the massive chandelier is full of so many jewels it hurts to look at. Sitting at the head of the table is the monster himself. 

Volim Nython. 

Immediately Hunter overheats, like the fire is surrounding him again, like the Wookie is crying in his ear, like the barrage never stops. 

“Kneel.” Harrik hisses in his ear, before delivering a swift kick to the back of his knees. The man in question drains his goblet of wine before speaking. 

“How long do you wager, it will be before she is returned?” Nython asks, not making eye contact with the sergeant. 

“I’d say before nightfall tomorrow.” Harrik answers, “if Embo’s plan works.” Nython hums in thought. 

“Tell me, Clone, why would this woman trade her life for yours?” He asks, standing and crossing to him as he speaks. When Hunter does not provide an answer, Nython backhand slaps him across the face. With his face turned to the side, he sees the tattoo properly. An evil smile comes across his features as he quietly laughs.  Pulling a chair over to sit down on, Nython smirks. 

“I shall assume you left the poor youngling to fend for itself.” He infers. “You did, didn’t you?” he provokes. “Good riddance, but here I thought clones were supposed to have honor, though vermin rarely care for anything but themse-.” 

“That child is alive and well.” Hunter says slowly, looking Nython dead in the eye. 

“And what of my wife?” Nython questions, watching him look away again. “If I offered her life for that of yourself and your company? One person for three, that is not a hard equation.” Nython draws his sword, pressing it close to Hunter's neck, enough to draw a little blood. 

“Threatening a bound man is undermining is it not?” Hunter asks.

“Do you actually care for her?” Nython is giving into rage at the realization. “And you believe she cares for you? I thought clones were smarter than that.” 

“It must drive you to insanity. Knowing I have her affection when you never will.” Hunter says with the utmost pride. 

“Then Embo is correct, she will come back for you.” Nython counters. “Either she played you a fool, and you and your crew will die for her, or what you say is true, and she returns herself to me to save you.” 

“And yet, you will live knowing a Clone had her love first.” 

Hunter swears he feels the first punch before it lands. 

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Echo firmly, albeit awkwardly attaches the dagger within your pants against the small of your back, where it will be hidden by the bulk of your coat.

“Tell me the plan again.” He demands whilst doing so, a determined look in his eyes. A part of you thinks you can see Echo as he was, before the Techno Union. You wonder if his tough voice and demanding attitude was a result of his ARC status, you wonder how many times he went over these kinds of plans with his Domino Squad. 

“Tech and I approach the courtyard, through the main entranceway, while you scale the way to get to the walkway.” “The Ramparts.” He corrects. 

“The ramparts,” you confirm. “Your movement will incapacitate the wall guards and once we have visual confirmation of Wrecker, Crosshair and Hunter, we give them hell.” Echo chuckles while straightening your jacket.  

“You remind me of my twin sometimes Aaray.” He tells you with a soft smile.  

“The other ARC?” You ask, watching Echo nod. 

“He had quite the attitude as well, was a bit of a di'kut at times, but full of fight. Just like you.” You smile at him while he remembers, Echo is not really talking to you anymore, more so voicing a memory. “He’d think you’re amazing, be all over this, ready to go. Never backed down from a fight, even when he should have.” Echo stops to blink for a moment, before looking at you again, clad in a dark blue coat, the kind of smile that reverberated through anyone who saw it. Hopeful eyes that tried to tell you it was going to be okay, and it was as if he was looking through you, and into your heart that echoed Fives. 

“Sometimes, I am grateful, I would not have wanted him to see me like this, and I would not want him to know what came of the republic. But mostly I am grateful I am not stuck in this confined space with him.” Echo jokes making you laugh a little. 

“He would have sprinted to your aid Aaray, would have fought tooth and nail for you.” 

“I can see why he is your twin then.” You tell Echo. 

“Are you two just about ready?” Tech softly calls, “we are approaching Curosant.” 

It feels like the longest walk you’ve done, down the plank and into cursoscant, a hat akin to Hunter’s is shoved onto your head to conceal you for as long as possible. It is as if your memory is walking down the docks, looking for a ship to stowaway on, you could have gone back in time for all you know, a lost girl could brush past you at any second, and she wouldn't even recognize you. 

When you reach the guarded walls you stop, there is no escape when you go through the door. 

“Echo.” You call to him softly, scared. And when he looks at you he wishes for a multitude of things. He wishes they had backup, he wishes Nython would drop dead of his own accord, he wishes you’d been born in better times, he wishes the republic was still standing.

He wishes Fives was here because he would know what to tell you. 

“You will never be in danger again after today.” Echo promises. You nod trying to convince yourself of that fact. And Echo stalks around somewhere else to breach the walls. 

The courtyard gates are always open, but no one would cross them if they knew what was good for them. 

It makes walking into a death sentence all too easy. 

Harrik steps out first, looking all too pleased with himself. Before saying something to one of the guards who disappears within the building. 

All too quickly Nython steps outside, your blood switches from hot to cold and then hot again, as if it can’t make its mind up. His longsword is attached to his hip almost as close as Harrik is to him. 

“Take the hat off.” Harrik speaks up. 

“Where are my brothers?” Tech counters. 

“Take off the hat.”  Nython raises his voice, they're still a distance away. Most likely to avoid being attacked. With one last deep breath you remove Hunter’s hat that sits low on your head, steal away your emotion and meet his eyes with a cold glare. 

“Pay the Bounty Hunter.” He says simply to Harrik when he meets your eyes. Before addressing Tech rather than yourself. 

“Have her walk to me and we will bring your reward.” 

“Bring me brothers first.” Tech states. 

“You are not in a position to bargain, clearly you can see that. And I am a man of my word, I have no use for Clone captives, they will be returned once my betrothed is safe.” You look at Tech briefly. 

“We will not leave you.” He promises. 

And so you begin crossing the courtyard. 

“My love,” Volim Nython coo’s to you, once you’ve stepped over the invisible line separating where Tech stands, and where he resides. He places a kiss on your cheek and grasps your waist tightly. 

“Try to play nice and I might let your clones live.” He hisses in your ear. The hand on your waist is so tight it brings tears to the corner of your eyes. 

“We had a deal, Nython.” Tech declares, stepping back slightly when his personal guard stands to attention. 

“Calm, calm,” you cringe as he calls. Using his free hand to wave to someone, he turns both of you away from Tech. Walking you inside he lets you pass Crosshair and Wrecker as they’re led out into the courtyard. 

“Aaray…” Wrecker murmurs when he sees you, and even Crosshair’s face drains when he sees you in Nythons grasp. You're twisting now, trying to see what's going on. One thought resonating in your mind. 

Hunter. 

“Oh, I was hoping you would not have to witness this.” The eel holding you says, but you can tell from the smile on his face he is lying. 

The last two guards walking Crosshair and Wrecker forward are dragging a limp form with them. Hair hanging in his face, boots scraping the cobblestone pathway, barely conscious, Hunter. 

You struggle so quickly you’re almost free of Nythons grasp. But he’s quick to remedy that, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling your back to his chest. His forearm inches higher threatening to tighten around your neck if you move again. 

“I am a generous man.” Nython seethes in your ear, “But I will not have my betrothed’s disappearance go unpunished.” 

“No!” You writhe in his grasp, and your voice is enough to cause Hunter’s head to whip up, eyes wide when his meet yours. 

“No…” He echos, pulling at the hands that are dragging him along, digging his feet into the stone, anything to get to you.  

“Echo!” You call to him, wherever he is. Nython leans in close to your ear to whisper: 

“Do you not see, this is the loyalty of clones. They have their own back, they do not care for you. My dear, you have been played.” his hand moves to grab your jaw, turning it so you can watch Wrecker and Crosshair be returned to Tech. And then to the block in the middle of the courtyard that was placed during your struggle. 

“Hunter!” You scream to him, desperate. 

“Hush my sweet.” Nython demands, “as I said, someone needs to pay for your disobedience.” 

“Spare him.” You beg, it is as if the world moves in slow motion. “Spare him and you can have me, I'll do anything for his life.” 

“And that is why he must die!” Nython rages, throwing you to the ground. “I have you. You belong to me, for the rest of your sorry days, and there is nothing your pathetic clone can do about it.” 

Nythons men are struggling to hold Hunter into place on the block, even with his hands behind his back, he is a dangerous man. 

Where is Echo? Your mind screams, where are Tech and Wrecker and Crosshair? You stand up and without thinking run towards the Sergeant. Nython catches you with ease, struggling against your pull. 

“Please.” You beg, “you won!” You turn to scream in his face, “he does not need to die, you won! You have everything you want!” You stop when Hunter screams in frustration, they have his legs out from under him, his head pinned onto the block and held in place by the latching mechanism. 

Your eyes search Nython’s for any hint of mercy. 

“I am begging you.” You whisper. He kicks you to the ground again, and from upside down you see Tech fighting off a guard trying to subdue him. 

“You really do care about him.” Volim comes to realization.  

“Yes,” you breathe. He sees red. 

“Wait!” He calls, holding up a hand, motioning for Harrik to change places with him. “I’ll kill him myself.”

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[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 17)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST sorry

Chapter Seventeen: The Mountain Pass Of Geonosis

Hunter doesn't sleep at all that night, laying in his bed in the captain's quarters, he can think of nothing but you. Guilt grips his heart tight, regret even more so. But he is certain he did the right thing. He can not afford to fall in love with you, and you would never fall in love with him.

He feels like he would want to cry over the loss of you, but there’s nothing there. Hunter lays in bed numb to the ocean surrounding him. All that crosses his mind is a sad smile when he thinks about discovering the stowaway on his boat. The way you threw yourself off of the edge of the vessel surprised even him. The bravery you demonstrated that day put entire separatist armies to shame. He’d admired you from the very beginning, he should have known then that he was getting in too deep.

“Hunter!” Crosshair shouts while banging on the door. Jolting his sergeant awake from his stupor. When he opens the door Cross raises an eyebrow. “You’ve seen better days.” He comments. He stands judgeful while Hunter tries to find the cleanest tunic.

“Would it kill you to not be a jackass for once?” He grunts, placing his hat on his head, hiding the bags under his eyes.

“You know, I think it might.” Crosshair says almost joyfully. “Plus I think it’s funny that the Aaray is so enamored with you of all people'' That makes Hunter stop.

“I’m not in the mood to entertain you today, Crosshair.” Hunter moves past his brother totally ignoring what he says next but all he can think about is if you really are enamored with him.

“Hunter?” Crosshair pokes at him when he doesn't respond. “Oh don’t tell me you actually feel something for her.” He is annoyed when he realises the look on Hunter's face.

“Watch your tone, Soldier.” Hunter gives a warning.

“How could you possibly have fallen for a woman that quickly.” Crosshair ignores the warning, throwing his hands into the air.

“I didn’t.” Hunter tells him firmly.

“Liar.” Crosshair counters angrily.

“I do not feel anything for that woman.” Not even Hunter can believe his own lies at this point. Crosshair rolls his eyes accordingly.

“So what’s your plan then Sarge? Run away with the girl of your dreams? Whisk her away from the treachery of Volim Nython and treat her properly for the rest of your days? Leave the only family you’ve ever had for some stuck up Coruscanti woman?” Crosshair is angry, he’s vulnerable, and it is not you he is mad at.

“My plan. Not that it is any of your business, is to take her to the Islands of Mustafar, and move on.” Hunter tells him slowly. Crosshair raises his eyebrows as if he’s surprised that Hunter’s idea was actually decent.

“Good plan.” He tells him, walking away as he adds: “Clean yourself up before Tech notices.”

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Wrecker finds you curled in a mess of blankets on the floor, and it doesn't look comfortable at all. He hopes you won’t mind when he kneels down to pick you up, blankets and all, and lay you in his hammock. Even a few hours of sleeping nicely would do you good, he thinks to himself. The second he lifts you from the floor you rouse slightly.

“Hunter…?” You mumble, Wrecker can’t tell if you’re asking for the captain or wondering if that’s who is holding you.

“It’s just me Aaray, just wan’ you to sleep better.” Wrecker tells you.

“Than’you Wreck…” You don’t make much sense as you’re basically still asleep but he gets the message either way. Briefly he wonders if the four legged creature is around, and if she would be comforting to you, but as the feathered thing is nowhere to be seen, he leaves you to some much needed rest.

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“Where’s the girl?” Echo asks, data pad in hand as he takes inventory of the ship.

“Still sleeping.” Wrecker answers, leaning over to try and snatch some food from the crate Echo was looking into. He scoffs at his bigger brother but decides to drop it for now.

“Tech, what's our estimated time of arrival?” He shouts up to where the man in questions is standing at the helm of the ship.

“My calculations suggest that we can reach Geonosis within the next day if these winds keep up.” Echo nods thoughtfully at that.

“I thought we were headed to the Mustafar islands?” Wrecker mumbles over a mouth full of bread.

“Someone ate all the food.” Tech and Echo snap silmontainsouly.

“Not that having an extra person on board helps.” Echo adds. “I mean really how’d you convince Hunter not to throw her overboard?”

“We call her Aaray, and it wasn't easy.” Tech tells him, watching Echo chuckle at the nickname.

“Does she know that you named her after our Mando’a word for pain?” He asks, punching more numbers into his data pad.

“No, and given the uh, incident yesterday, I’d prefer it if it was kept that way.” Tech tells him candidly.

“Situation report.” Comes a demanding voice, as Hunter walks up to join Tech at the helm of his ship. Nodding slightly as Tech fills him in before stepping aside to check the ties on the sails.

“Where’s the Aaray?” Crosshair asks, removing a toothpick from his mouth in favor of stealing some of Wreckers bread.

“Sleeping in my hammock.” Wrecker says, getting up to follow Tech to tell him to leave his ties alone.

“Well she did have an eventful day yesterday.” Echo says, filling the awkward pause.

“What information do we have on Corasanti presence in Geonosis?” Hunter asks, ignoring the mention of you entirely.

“I’ll fill you in.” Echo does his best not to sigh when he puts pressure on his aching limbs.

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Much later, when you wake, you groan at just the thought of facing Hunter today. Why had he kissed you like that? Why did he leave you after? - Well, that much you knew the answer to. But why did kissing him feel so electrifying, why did it make you feel so dull to your surroundings but yet hypersensitive to everything at once. Why did he make you feel… alive? You don’t get long to sit alone with your thoughts.

“Dang Ferrik.” Echo drawls out in pain, leaning his head against the wall. You try and sit up in the massive hammock. But the cloth moves unexpectedly with the movement off the ship. By the time you right yourself you barely catch the fading blush on his hollow cheeks.

“Are you okay?” You ask, diverting attention away from your clumsy self. You watch him avert your eyes when you look at him. And so you gingerly step off of the hammock, careful not to fall, and make your way over to him.

“ ‘m fine.” He tries to tell you. Still using the wall of the room to hold most of his weight.

“Yeah,” you scoff, “I’ve heard that one before.” Out of habit you go to brush out your skirt, only to find pants in place of where it should lay. Instead you run your hands through each other.

“Are you a healer?” Echo asks skeptically, he’s had enough of doctors, healers, apothecaries and even witches try to fix him.

“Daughter of a drinker.” You explain, “I know that when someone staggers home and stumbles to tell me ‘they’re fine’, that it’s a lie.” You tell him unimpressed.

“I’m sorry.” He tells you earnestly. Watching as you shrug, and head over to him. It makes him nervous, he doesn't want you to notice what’s hurting, and he definitely does not want you seeing the injury.

“How can I help you?” You ask instead, and again, you shock him. He has to stop and think for a moment, no one has ever asked what he needs from them. It is always, ‘do this’ or ‘have you tried that?’

“I-I” He stutters, before shaking his head as if that’ll clear it. “Can you help me over to my bunk?” He hates asking for help, but it is better to ask you than have his brothers notice. You’re by his side in a flash, happy to actually be able to help around the ship for once.

“Of course,” You tell him with a genuine smile. Wrapping your arm around his middle, not missing how he tenses. Your other hand leads his arm around your shoulders, and draws calming patterns into his palm.

“Thank you,” Echo says, his voice has more depth up close, something akin to Hunter’s, but not quite the same. He hisses in pain after the first step, and it prompts you to try and take even more of his weight. He’s shockingly light. And you’re learning just how long the aftermath of the Techno Union lasts for. Through his grunts of pain, while walking you can hear a more mechanical sound. Something that doesn't fit with the normal noises of movement and the sea.

“Let’s just go with this.” Echo says, face displays pain. You’re not at his hammock yet, but at this point you don’t even know how’d you get him into his bed. And so you slide down the wall with him until you’re both sitting.

“What is causing the pain?” You ask, caringly pulling his head into your shoulder to run your hands in his thin hair. He jerks away when your fingertips make contact with the metal in his skull.

“Sorry,” He says, embarrassed at his own reactions. “It’s the leg, just doesn't want to co-operate today.” Echo only brings it up because he wants to change the subject and he doesn’t know what else to say.

When you look down you find one foot perched on the floor, encased in old leather and supporting itself. The other is laying on the floor like dead meat. Except it’s not meat at all, dark metal peaks past his pant leg and almost blends into the dark oak of the floor.

“Echo…” you say softly,

“That’s the seppies for ya.” He tells you all too nonshalontly.

“Seppies?” You ask confused, is that what replaced his leg?

“Separatists. Or officially The Confederacy of Independent Systems.” He explains to you. Watching as you nod in understanding.

“I’m starting to get why Hunter hates me so much.” You try to joke to defuse the situation. And it works from the small chuckle you get from the former ARC Trooper.

“Nah, Hunter’s always been like that. He had a stick in his ass long before you came along.” You cover the smile that forms at his words. When silence falls, you try and think of something else that will make him smile.

“Would you… like to see my impression of a sarlacc?” You ask, not being able to think of anything but this.

“I would absolutely like to see your impression of a sarlacc.” He tells you, opening his eyes from when he’d leaned back to block out the pain.

Very slowly you bring your hands to your face, palms facing out, and with fingers wiggling you make a small gross shrieking noise. Echo cringes at the noise, and the look of disgust stays on his face, even as you burst into laughter from how funny he looks.

“Your face!” You say between giggles.

“I hated it.” He tells you firmly.

“What are you talking about that was spot on.” You argue, “this is what they do!” You bring your hands up again, and he grabs them before you can start wiggling your fingers.

“Do not make that noise again.” He says, looking only half serious.

“What is going on?” You both turn at the sound of Hunter in the doorway. Echo’s hands still on your wrists, and the Sergeant looking none too impressed.

“Nothing.” Echo says, letting you go.

“Then back to your post, Tech needs help with the charts.” Hunter says to him, but looking at you. And Echo doesn’t miss the way you stare back, like you know some terrible secret that you can’t tell anyone.

“Aye, aye sarge.” He says to break the two of you apart. But when he goes to stand, his leg almost gives out from under him.

“Echo!” You gasp, scrambling to catch him, halfway between standing and falling to the floor. When you’ve finally righted him and yourself, Hunter speaks again.

“Alright Trooper up and at em.” He says, turning away.

“Can’t you see he’s injured?” You raise your voice at the Sergeant, and Echo’s not entirely convinced that he’s the only reason you’re angry.

“Is the state of my men your business?” Hunter counters. Glaring at you and Echo, and wondering if you had gone to him last night after your altercation.

“Evidently it’s not yours.” You say incredulously, and Echo takes this as his cue to leave. As Hunter is storming into the room now.

“You never know when to give it up, do you?” He asks slowly, side eyeing Echo limp from the room.

“At least I stand by what I say and do.” Hunter’s eye’s dash from the empty doorway up to you. Hurt makes itself known briefly, before being covered by anger.

“Stay away from my crew.” He tells you firmly. “And stay away from me.” Before he turns on his heel and leaves you alone, once again.

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[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 16)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses. there will be kissing in some chapters. oh and ANGST

Chapter Sixteen: The Galaxy

Night Time, you decide, is your favorite. Especially the nights at sea, the few of them you’ve had aboard the Havoc Marauder feel so special, so free. And you can see so much of the stars, nothing else compares.

You can’t seem to find sleep tonight, in part because your hammock has been taken by its rightful owner. In part because your veins still feel alive with something after the events from the day.

But you can still blame Echo for stealing back his comfy spot. Granted Wrecker offered to share his area with you, but you’re fairly certain if you’d taken him up on that offer, he would have crushed you by now. So you resigned yourself into a pile of blankets on the floor of the crew's quarters. But instead you make your way all the way up to the poop deck to stare at the stars.

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠

Hunter knows better than to creep up on you, and he certainly knows better than to stare at beautiful women.

Hunter in fact, knows many things. He just seems to forget it all whenever you’re near. It’s embarrassing, infuriating, and addicting. But there’s not much he can do about it.

Hunter should also be used to women wearing trousers. It was common enough amongst the Twi’leks and the Jedi back during the war. But the thick material clings to your legs, so differently than the dress you’d met him in. You change so much about so many things, you drive the Sergeant mad.

Enhanced senses hear you let out a deep breath, watching as it condensates in the air. If Hunter concentrates enough, the sound of the waves against the hull fall away, and he can hear the gentle rhythm of your heart.

“Sergeant?” He hears your voice call out over the salty cool air. And immediately he feels shame for watching you unabashedly.

You’re acutely aware of his presence, even before you call out to him. Hunter may be stealthy, and have enhanced senses on his side, but the sixth sense of human nature tells you when you’re not alone.

He doesn’t respond to your calling, and you wonder for a moment if it was someone else who’d stumbled upon you. Looking over your shoulder you confirm just who has joined you tonight.

It is Hunter, standing in his dark slacks tucked into his boots, and nothing else. No belt contained blasters and long swords, no hat hiding his face away, no coat disguising the mass of muscle underneath.

And no shirt either, the heathen part of your mind whispers. You barely gasp, but turn back to the stars in a feeble attempt to leave his modesty intact.

“If I am making you uncomfortable I can leave.” His voice is deeper at the moment, still ladled with fatigue.

“I don’t wish to be prudish.” You say, neck starting to hurt from the angle. “But I assumed you’d not want me to see you in your current state of undress.” The firm taps of his boots get closer and closer to you.

“I’ve been on a medical table enough times that this no longer bothers me.” Hunter is wary of getting too close to you, crossing some invisible line that he’d later regret. “I can find a shirt if you would like me.”

“No.” You tell him all too quickly, turning back to face him just in time to catch the raised eyebrow. “I mean, it is fine, if you wish to stay like that.” You correct yourself. And for a brief moment you allow yourself to look over the scars that have been hidden away.

There's a large patch of lighter skin on his left shoulder that catches your eye.

“Blaster bolt, went right through the flimsy plastoid armour.” He explains each and every mark to you as your eyes glance over them.

“An altercation in a coruscanti bar, daggers and drinks evidently don’t pair well.” - The mark to the right of his stomach.

“Hunk of droid wedged itself in between the panels.” - The spider’s web of healed cuts on his shoulder blade.

“Hunter…” You murmur to yourself, thinking about the pain and the suffering he must have gone through. You’re wondering about the shake in his hands when they reach for your elbows. When was the last time someone looked at him like this? Not a medic, or a brother or an armourer, when was the last time someone just looked at him.

Hesitantly you grasp his hands. Holding them in front of you, the scars, cuts and burns you can still in the pale moonlight. Turning them over you see the word that was burned into his arm.

“I, I didn't betray anyone.” He says suddenly. Scared of what you might be thinking. As always the Sergeant is hyper aware of everything, you seem to glow in the moonlight, with no scars or burns or anything. You exist as perfection.

“I know,” you look into his eyes, they’re darker, more richly coloured than they are in the sunlight.

“I couldn’t bear you to think of me like that.” Hunter admits, the hand you were admiring moving to cup your face.

“I could never think of you like that.” You whisper, subconsciously moving closer to him. “Hunter, how could I ever think that?” He shakes his head slightly, like he’s pushing away something he wanted to tell you. In an effort to get through to him, you thread your hands into his hair.

It’s soft and thick and feels familiar to you now.

“Listen to me, you stubborn man.” You tell him firmly watching a smile, a real genuine smile take over his face.

“I’m the stubborn one?” He teases, hiding himself away again. “And here I was hoping you found me devilishly enticing.” He continues to smile when you blush at his words.

“You could be both.” You say smoothing the hair at the nape of his neck.

You remember all of the stories you were told as a child, where the boy grasps the girl in his arms to swoop down and kiss her. You’re burning with wonder, if that's what Hunter will do with you. You want him to kiss you so badly it makes your heart beat faster. His eyes scan yours wildly, and his eyebrows crease together, a sign you’ve noticed means he’s thinking.

“Tell me no.” He breathes, the hand cupping your face moves into your hair, the other meeting the small of your back that has you gasping like you did in the alley.

“Tell me to stop, that you do not want me touching you, looking at you, feeling for you like this.” He says, pulling you closer, resting his forehead on your own. He must be able to hear your heartbeat now, and the tiny gasps you make trying to remember how to breathe. How he has the capacity to do this to you, you have no idea.

“What if that is not what I want to tell you?” Your left hand leaves his hair to travel down his shoulder, keeping your forehead pressed against his and glancing down to look at his bare chest again.

“You cannot, we cannot.” He tells you firmly. “You do not know me.”

“I know enough.” You whisper, lips almost touching his. You should not be doing this, hells you should not even have hugged him earlier. It is so improper so scandalous, if anyone saw what was transpiring here…

But there is no one here except him. And Hunter makes you feel like there is no one else in the world.

You’re not sure if it’s you moving first or if it is him, or maybe it is both of you finally giving up on trying to be proper.

Sergeant Hunter of Clone Force 99 kisses you like it is the last thing he will ever do. It’s uncoordinated, and you’re more firm than you meant to be, but you can’t get enough of him now. His mouth is breathy and warm against your own, and the feeling of stubble against your smooth skin sets you alight. You become obsessed with the feeling, the way it pulls at your soul, like something is finally free.

“Hunter…” His name flies through your lips as you try to remember how to breathe. He pulls away at the feel of your voice on his mouth.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks sincerely, his nose pressed into your face and he tries to remain as close as possible to you. You shake your head ‘no’ as best you can.

“Need to hear you say it.” He mumbles, and you go dizzy feeling him talk against your lips, but not kissing them again.

“I think I’m going to die if you don’t kiss me again.” You tell him, relishing the smile on his face.

“Don’t worry gorgeous, I've got you.”

He kisses you hungrier this time, like he is more sure of himself. A small lick up with his tongue has you opening your mouth, trying to get more of him closer to you. You’re worried you’re hurting him the way your fingers scrunch those stunning brown locks of his. But all Hunter does in response is pull you closer via the arm that's wrapped around your waist.

You realize very quickly that the sergeant runs his mouth when he’s not over thinking everything. While you are overcome with pushing your lips onto his again, to feel the warmth from him, every time he breaks from you, Hunter starts mumbling.

“Beautiful...” You don’t let him finish catching his breath before kissing him again. “At jate par ni.” A phrase he repeats a few times that you do not understand. Too good for me.

You are both panting against each other by the end of it. Pressing your forehead against his, your eyes stay closed, still basking in the feelings from moments before.

He pulls away from you all too soon. Turning away with one hand on his hip and the other feeling his mouth.

“That was a mistake.” He speaks before he thinks. And you become aware of how cold it is outside.

“What did I do wrong?” A small voice asks him, he can see cracks starting to form within you. Where your heart realizes again you care for someone who might not care for you the same way.

You are a clone. Hunter’s head tells him. You will never be enough for someone like her. You won’t even come close. Who in their right mind would ever choose a clone traitor over a coruscanti lord?

Best to save himself the pain now.

“What did I do?” You call into the air when he begins to walk away, before walking after him.

“That.” He tells you roughly, “Should not have happened. It was a momentary lapse in judgment. Nothing more.” He’s become that man again, the one that you met first. The kind of man that ignores the tears that gather in your eyes.

“But I thought…” You’re so cold all of a sudden, having ended up on the stairs down to the rest of the ship. It’s happening again, you’re going to be left alone, with no one.

“Pick yourself up before the crew wakes. You might be able to get away with this at home, but on my ship, we have things to do.” It might kill him to say those words, and it might shatter his heart when you firmly shove him away so you can get past. Hands scratching and clutching at the tops of your arms, your galaxy crashing around you.

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[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm The Cold Sea (pt 12)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter ten

Chapter Eleven

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses.

Chapter Twelve: The Port of Alderaan

Tech ushers a perplexed Hunter back to his captain's quarters. And while Crosshair goes back up the bird's nest, Wrecker mumbles something about the sails, and that… Well that leaves you alone. After some nervous twists, turns and pacing, during which your mind tries to decide if you really are the problem. With a deep breath you gather all of your courage (which you’re learning you have more of than you thought), and head in the direction Tech and Hunter went.

You get about halfway there before you think better of it. But by the time you’re back where you started, you’re already second guessing your second guess. And after some more pacing, you settle on bringing the Captain a Meilroon fruit.

You cringe at every creak in the floor, you must look crazy, between the pacing and now the sneaking around, if Wrecker or Crosshair see you, they’ll think you’re positively insane. But then again, they probably already do.

“How many hours of rest are you averaging?” You hear Tech ask.

“I don’t kriffing know.” Hunter says, and you hear some fumbling, like he's smacking something away, and the thing or person smacks back.

“Well then how are you sleeping?” He tries again.

“Like shit.” Comes the answer, followed by a sigh and some more dull thawps as they get into another scuffle.

“Sarge, I need you to work with me.” Tech sounds almost desperate.

“I’m fine Tech. This is totally unnessic-” As you creep closer he stops talking. Damn those enhanced senses of his. You go to knock softly on the door.

“You might as well just come in.” Hunter tells you before your knuckles even make contact with the wood. “I bought you some food.” You declare your reason for interrupting even before you get the door open.

“Say thank you.” Tech whispers aggressively at him, like he’s scolding a child. When you finally get into the room, you blink over and over again.

Seeing someone's personal sleeping area seems so intimate to you. Hunter’s room is filled with things. Bolts, washers, spare parts of all kinds. As well as piles of papers that you assume must be maps of some kind. He sits on his bed watching you take in his space. Noticing your curious eyes, and the way Gonk moves around your shoulder to your head.

“Don’t let that thing loose in here.” He warns. Before he sees your nervous smile and gentle arms juggle the Meilroon and reach up for the Alach Moon Dragon.

“Be polite.” You tell her teasingly. Before giving the fruit to Tech for him to pass along to Hunter. Nervous hands scratch Gonk’s head feathers.

“Thanks.” The captain says to avoid anyone's gaze. Tech looks from you to him repeatedly as if he’s waiting for something to happen.

“I wish to apologise…” You say suddenly. Causing both men to look at you, utterly perplexed. “For earlier.” you clarify, “It was inappropriate of me to assume that your anger was, in fact anger. And that it was towards me.” They’re both still looking at you as if you’ve turned into some kind of Gungan on the spot. You open your mouth to continue, to explain you’ve heard of Shell Shock and that you will stay out of everyone's way until you reach Alderaan.

“Why are you apologising?” Hunter rushes out. And now it's your turn to look surprised.

“Because, because I. I did something, something, wrong.” You stutter slightly, and when both of you look at Tech for answers he looks a tad off put by both of you.

“Maker above.” He says, before walking out of the room, and shouting at Wrecker about something.

“I am… Sorry I mean, I am sorry.” You repeat, looking softly at him.

“Let me get one thing straight.” Hunter says holding his hand up, you can see the scars again, and your heart aches for him. “I attacked you, berated you, belittled you, judged and hated you for something and someone you cannot control, and you’re apologising to me?” Your blood runs cold at his words, and your mouth sits agape.

“You’re going to crush it.” He adds nodding towards Gonk, who's squirming in your grip. With one last pat you put her back on your shoulder.

“I can still apologize-” You start.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He interrupts. It’s not exactly an apology of his own,

But it is certainly progress. And frankly, you think this is as close as he gets to an actual apology.

“Right, well, I'll uh…” You trail off, and your effort to avoid his eyes makes you focus on the ruined parts of his tunic. There are far too many buttons undone on it, and you can see too much of his toned chest for it to be respectable.

“Do you want me to fix it?” You ask suddenly. And as if noticing for the first time Hunter also looks down at his shirt.

“What's wrong with it?” He asks, almost offended.

“It's revealing.” You answer, before blushing at your own comment.

“Maybe I want it to be revealing. For the benefit of pretty girls.” it’s supposed to be a tease, something to make you uncomfortable again, but it comes out all too smooth sounding, and he watches your cheeks redden. But before he can backtrack and blame Crosshair's influence for the comment, Wrecker's voice booms across the ship.

“Prepare for portside docking!” and Hunter has to jump up to head back onto the deck. Brushing past you as gently as he can, watching your wonderful albeit dirty face blush, he leaves you in his quarters not knowing that you’re wondering if you count as one of the pretty girls he leaves his shirt unbuttoned for.

By the time you’ve collected yourself, and also chided your mind for being so unladylike in that moment, the men are already wrestling with the Murdaders ropes and chucking them to the Ishi Tib dock workers in order to try and rein the powerful vessel in. The aquatic creatures are so good at their jobs, communicating with one another so efficiently that Clone Force 99 is preparing to disembark within seconds. You’re hesitant to step onto the gangplank that leads to this new world.

“Come on Little Aaray,” Wrecker holds out his hand to lead you down. With a smile you take it and head onto the durasteel platform. The four of them look at you awkwardly, and you don’t think any of you thought you’d get to this point.

“I suppose this is goodbye.” You break the ice that flows over the group. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You’ve done me such a kindness…” you continue to ramble until you hear Crosshair groan. “Save the dramatics Aaray.” He pretends to be annoyed with you, making you smile just a little bit.

“Walk down the main street until you hit a dead end. Then go left, walk until you see a Cantina with Purple lights. That’s Cid’s place, drop our names and she can get you help.” Tech says sternly.

“Turn left, purple lights.” You repeat to yourself, before Wrecker places a soft hand on your shoulder as a brief goodbye. Everyone looks over to find Hunter picking imaginary dirt out of his viroblade.

“Goodbye Sergeant.” You say, catching his attention. “And thank you, for saving me, and for having saved all those before me.” He only grunts in response. And you look towards the busy street. Behind you, a Ishi Tib ushers all of you off of the docking platform, so quickly you’re swept up in the commotion, already trekking down the main street like Tech said, you almost go to turn to ask him about the different things you see.

But he’s not there. The four of them stand just off of the durasteel beams that mark the docks, a far few paces behind you. And with a sad smile, you give them a small wave as a final goodbye.

Cid is an interesting character to say the least. Immediately she yanks you over to a separate parlor where a Twi’lek lady scoffs at your ‘princess dress’. You’re left standing in the storefront while the two of them talk about how bad your disguise is.

“Are you going to help me or not?” You snap, crossing your arms in anger. And the Twi’lek raises her brows at you and then Cid.

“Now just because those boys can get away with talking to me like that” she says with a pointed finger. “Doesn't mean you can. Where are your manners?” You stutter and blush with an apology. And when she stomps out, the Twi smiles.

“Ignore her.” She says sweetly. “Now let's find you something more appropriate of a stowaway.” She leads you to the back area of the store to begin taking basic measurements.

“I don’t have any money.” You tell her, and she ignores that, mumbling numbers at herself.

“Wait here, and start taking your jewelry off.” While you don’t intend on going anywhere you also have no intention of taking any of your precious items off. The woman comes back with a bundle of clothing, something that's clearly supposed to be a Kirtle and… what looks to be a pair of mens pants.

“Here, get changed behind there and then I'll see what I can do.” She says chucking the bundle into your arms. Gonk makes an angry sound when she has to leap from your shoulder in order to escape the clothes. “What is that?” The Twi says looking vaguely disgusted.

“An Alach Moon Dragon, she is harmless.” You say repeating Tech’s earlier diagnosis. Before moving behind the curtain and shedding your dress, the corset, and your slip. The creature in the mirror is very different to the one that left coruscant. The bruises are an ugly yellow-green on your body. Your face is covered in smudged gunpowder and your hair is wild. Slipping on the pants first, you feel almost as if you’re no longer in your body. Like you’re watching your actions rather than doing them. You do your best not to frown at the ill fitting maroon kirtle. You have to pull on the laces of the front-facing corset and pull at the fabric. When the twi’lek woman steps behind the standing curtain to look you over, she immediately pulls out her scissors.

“Don't worry,” She teases, “it’s harmless.” Before beginning to cut away the bottom half of the fabric.

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[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea

Star Wars, The Bad Batch Pirate!au (Hunter x Reader

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers dad and bothered are asses.

Chapter one: The Sentencing

Fate, you had decided, fucked you over. Which in itself, was not only a very unladylike statement, but was also very ironic. But how fitting for a woman of your time, to want something her whole life only to be told she couldn’t have it by the most infuriating of men. For passion to be pushed into a corset and cinched into fake smiles and batting eyelashes.

Everyone has a value, never mind how little or much, everyone is worth something. And you are worth a great deal to me.

At the time you’d thought your fathers words were a statement of affection, love brought to light by goblets of rum only to settle in your lap as you tended to the fireplace and did your best to lead him into his bed, staggering every step of the way. It was now that you understood his words. The choice of word may have been valuable, but the more accurate synonym, dowry explained his true intentions.

Enter one Lord Volim Nython, a pretentious man with a mind that was far more shallow than his pockets and a reputation to match. What Lord Nython did not already possess, he bought. And what he was without currently, was a wife. He was a man with a personality inked in gunpowder and steel, crushing his enemies in the war that made his predecessors and your fathers fortunes.

A very fitting match. Oh how quaint, the wedding would be so grand, and the children, oh they will be beautiful. The distinct lack of sincerity infuriated you, older women with tea parties akin to that of toddlers and the gloved hands they rest on their chests as they shake their heads at the utmost ridiculous things. While the tautly curled hair stays perfectly in place, rage resided in you at an unfathomable height. But, it was not without its reins, and as its rider, you had to lead your rage onto a path that would result in your success.

You chose this night carefully, knowing that it was on the last of every month, when the money came in from gambling, debts and the crown, that your father quite literally liquified his earnings. You shiver in your nightgown, every fireplace in the house was still burning, and the oil lamps were flickering away, though the household was asleep save for yourself. The main doors shifted open as the intoxicated man made his way in. And you steady yourself before greeting him.

“A good night, I'll take it then?” You ask with a breath of a laugh, wrapping a shivering arm arm around his shoulders and leading him over to the plush sitting chairs by the fire. He waves you off when you offer him water and so you sit on your knees by his feet. Grasping his hands on your own. He regards you with a suspicious look.

“I… I wanted to ask you something.” You start carefully, eyeing his look. The rug is warm from the flame and the way it illuminates his face, you wonder how many times your mother sat with him like this, or how often he looked at her in such confusion.

“Well? Get on with it then.” He slurs leaning further back into the red velvet. Causing you to shift and bunch your nightgown.

“I wanted to ask if, if you thought, the lord...”

���Lord Nython.” He confirms, watching you jump as the fire crackles, your nerves electrified by what you mean to bring up next. And it gives away your intentions before you can ask them. After all, your father may know you better than you had originally thought.

“Do not tell me what I think you are about to do.” he warns tilting his head down so the orange light reflects the way he regards you through his brow.

“I think we could make a better match.” You try and appeal to his motivations. “I think we stand to make a better-”

“I’ve been given offers.” He interrupts, the liquor making him less angry and more level headed as you had intended it to. “No one will wed you for the price Lord Nython will.” He moves to stand, the conversation finished, but you are not, having given yourself a stern word of not settling until you are free from the man's clutches.

“There are richer men outside of Coruscant.” You say with more force than you had intended. The translucent fabric whooshing as you stand. Your father pauses at the helm of the stairs, like a Blurg righting itself after an unsuccessful charge, he is listening.

“Naboo royalty, even a low Alderanian Lord would double Nythons offer.” You take cautious steps forward, hoping that his underestimation of your intelligence works in your favor.

“Those men are oceans away, Nython will wed you tomorrow if the crown gave its blessing.” He counters, but it is not a dismissal.

“Consider this an investment then, the payoff would surely be worth it.” You press carefully, like a healer tending to an inflammation, you palpate the area with caution looking to avoid the most sensitive of the inflamed tissue. Your father huffs.

“Providing you could snag a suitable man.” Hope flickers within you, and it warms you more than the fire ever could, it makes you feel power, and control. And hope, like it does with most, makes you foolish.

“Love is a powerful motivator.”

His booming drunk laugh shakes you, fear flooding you as you realize your mistake. But you were so close! So tantalizingly close to being free from the wretched man.

“You think men marry for love?” You see him wipe away tears of laughter as he sways on the dark oak staircase of your home. “You my dear, are even more dull than I thought.” You shake with anger and anxiety.

“I want to be in love! Like you an-”

“Do not say you mother and I. Ha. You are truly delusional.” He interrupts, taunting you with drunken laughter. Your father never speaks of your mother, and when he did it was pushed aside in favor of something else. But alcohol has a way of loosening tongues.

“I… I-” you stammer, if there was one thing you remembered about your mother it was the love she shared with your father and the stories of growing up and falling into a love so pure with someone it made your heart ache for it.

“We were not in love, she despised me, and I her.” He spits from his place on the stairs. The height difference adds to how small you feel. How his pitiful stare shrinks you and sends chills into your bones.

“I do not under-“ He interrupts again:

“It was an act! Pretend! Meant to fool young girls into thinking they could have a life as such. And even in death she continues to lie to you!” You blink away tears and think, you try to think he is lying, that they were happy, she was happy, and that in his intoxication your father lies.

“She was adamant that we would be in love for you.” He sighs, and drops to the stairs to sit and lean on the railing. “That we would keep up pretences for your sake so that you would strive for such happiness.” With his words it is as if he is taking away the core memories of your mother.

“I will not marry that man.” You have to push the words out, but the meaning is clear enough.

“Yes.” Your father says ever so sternly. “You will.”

“I shall not!” You fight back, hating how your eyes cloud with tears and emotions bubble up. “He looks at me like one does cattle, I am nothing more than a trade deal to that man!” both parties know you are right, from the first meeting when he had stalked around you, looking up and down, tutting here, humming there. Not engaging in any conversation that you’d deem intellectual or interesting. You’d been disgusted then, and you are still disgusted now.

“Please!” Your father wipes drunken saliva from his chin, “Lord Nython is giving us so much gold for your hand in marriage you should be grateful, and a renowned war hero like himself. You will wed that man even if i have to drag you to the altar.” You’re stunned, and horrified, and your father leaves you weeping on the dark oak stairs, a mess for one of the maids to clean up before he wakes in the morning.

Tag list: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st3r @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid

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[jessiebanethedragon]

War-Mantle blurb

TBB SPOLIERS

also quick warning: crosshair is mean and there's 1 (one) punch towards the reader

okay but imagine you're Hunter's SO and you get captured with him...

"let me go!" He hears you scream at the men holding you. You're putting up quite the fight, even with your hands in binders behind your back it still takes two people to detain you.

it makes him smirk with a fond proudness. and he can't help but chuckle at the insults and threats you're giving the empires hooligans.

"you just wait till i'm out of these binders! I'd threaten to make your face look like bantha shit but i bet it already does, you coward." Hunter hears another struggle and one of the guards outside his cell leaves to investigate.

by the time they drag you over to Hunters cell theres a person holding each of your arms and a third trying to contain your kicking legs. when your foot connects expertly with the helmet of the goon, he falls back, wrenching off his helmet to feel for blood or damage. when he's stands again Hunter catches your gaze, messy hair and torn clothing you're still the most stunning thing in the galaxy to him.

"forgive me for earlier." You say innocently, "i was wrong, you're in fact, uglier than bantha shit." The guard, still holding his helmet, sends his fist into your stomach. Making you cave inwards at the pain, landing on your knees.

"That's enough." A familiar voice comes, you look up, desperately searching for your vod, your friend.

"Crosshair..." You breathe, looking up at him, the injury on his head and how cold his eyes are. with a nod of his head, the troopers force you over until you're sitting in front of Hunters cell.

"i was hoping for the entire squad, but you'll do."

"Crosshair it's me!" You call to him, but he ignores you, calmly stalking over.

"Hunter, Hunter, do you know why attachments are forbidden?" He watches you begin to tremble, and his jaw clenches. hard.

"don't." He seethes. Crosshair smiles, this was going to be too easy.

"Because they can be used as leverage."

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 10)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses.

Chapter Ten: The Echo

Greeting your companions the next morning was just as awkward as bidding them goodnight after the debacle last night. You’re stiff, bruised, and the dirtiest you’ve ever been in your whole life. Lightly retying the corset to support yourself, you collect Gonk from where she’s curled in the Hammock and brace yourself before heading out onto the deck of the ship. It’s already very bright out, and the crew is as rambunctious as ever. With the Captain throwing orders around here and there, Tech and Wrecker working the sails, and Crosshair shouting back down to Hunter. It’s marvellous how they work together when they're not disagreeing about something.

You feel Gonk leap off your shoulder with a curious noise before bounding away, her speckled wings bouncing behind her. She looks clumsy for a lizard, but then again, how many lizards did you know that have feathers?

“Good Morning!” Wrecker shouts to you when he notices your figure. You give him a smile and a small wave. Tech returns your smile and watches you as you glance around. Appreciating the sea and the vessel you’ve found yourself on.

The water of the Corillian run is a rich blue with just enough green to look magical. And the waves the churn underneath you look more powerful than any carriage or speeder you’ve seen before. Just as you’re wondering how deep it is, there's a commotion behind you. Hunter is glaring deadly at Gonk, who’s held by her neck feathers in front of his face. And from the way her wings are flapping and her front claws grab at him, it's no mystery where she was, or where she’s trying to go.

“I’m sorry!” You say, gathering your skirts and rushing over. The Captain glares at you as he shoves her into your arms, her grey feathers bunching up as he does so. His tunic is rolled up again, and in the morning light you can see the symbols on his forearm more clearly. Traitor.

When the wooden ruler collided with your desk you yelped in fear and surprise. Was it the first time this had happened? Absolutely not, and if these lessons continued this way, it certainly wouldn't be the last.

“Pay. Attention.” The Pantoran woman growled at you, she was very smart. You could just tell, and the fact she was instructed to dumb down your education infruiated the both of you. “As I was saying…” She eyed you - a dare to look out the window and start daydreaming again.

“Teach me about the war.” You blurted out the statue of the emperor they were erecting, catching your eye again.

“This is a language class.” She said with a sigh, before placing the ruler down. “I’m guessing you want to know about the Clones.”

“How did you kn-”

“It’s all anyone ever talks about.” She interrupted you, which was shocking in itself, but not unwelcome. Perching herself on the birch coloured desk, you found her staring out the window as well.“It’s well known that there was scarcely a better soldier than a Kaminoan Clone. And so when the war came to its end, and the Jedi went rouge, well they hardly stood a chance. Those who sided with them were caught and killed or branded traitors. Why they let any of them survive is beyond me, but those clones were so fiercely loyal. Some of them just couldn't shake that. No matter how hard the Kaminoans or the Emperor tried, there were millions of them, and some…” She paused for a moment, glancing back at the door as if someone was watching you through it.

“Well even if an inhibitor chip is 99.99% effective, out of one million, there will still be one hundred defects.”

You try to stop staring, you really do. But by then Hunter has caught your eye, and is glaring even harder than he was before. Cautiously you take a step back, finding yourself in the company of clones is one thing, those willing to defy Nython, another. But enemies of the Galactic Empire was a different kind of dangerous.

“Courtesy of your betrothed.” The Captain grits out, and whatever softness was there from the night before is gone. Scared, you clutch Gonk to your chest like a child would a blanket. “What did you do?” You ask, looking him up and down. Even with the scars on his knuckles of cuts and burns, He didn't look like the horror stories you’d been told as a kid, in fact, he didn't look dangerous at all. But the symbols were there, scared into his skin some time ago. Something flashes in his brown sugar eyes, like the ping of a blaster bounces off of his iries in the heat of battle. Like he relives combat right in front of you.

“What we did was rescue a prisoner of war.” He spits, walking towards you and backing you into the banister that overlooks the pain part of the deck. “That hammock you’re sleeping in belongs to someone.”

“I’m sorry.” You say trembling. Looking to the side to see Wrecker place a firm hand on his sergeant's shoulder and pull him firmly away from you.

“Echo’s was in the hands of the Techno Union for some time.” Wrecker explains defusing the situation. “He’s waiting for us on Alderaan, after some much needed rest.” Hunter, who’s now swatting Tech - and whatever device he’s trying to scan him with - away, seems to be ignoring you.

“I-I didn’- I didn’t mean…” You tell Wrecker shakily.

“I know, and it’s okay.” He says with a smile, but Hunter's words resonate with you. Haunting you of acts you have had nothing to do with.

In his cabin Hunter throws his hat as hard as he can against the wall. He hates you, he hates the Empire and most of all he hates Nython. And what’s even more infuriating is how innocent you are, how your morales are driving you away from your betrothed, and how you saved the shit disturbing reptile that seems to like himself and yourself too much. And no matter how much Hunter wants to despise the empire, if it’s still filled with people like you, it means there’s still something to fight for. But if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t know how much fight he's got left.

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“What did he mean, courtesy of my betrothed?” You have to walk quickly behind Crosshair in an effort to keep up, his long legs easily outpace you and even though you’re both still injured he moves quickly. You follow him into the storage area that you’re all too familiar with, nearly bumping into him when he stops to look for a specific crate.

“Why don’t you bother Tech with your questions?” Crosshair says pushing boxes around.

“Because you’ll tell me the truth, no sugar coating.” You tell him, nudging him aside with your boot as you lean over to grab what he couldn’t reach. Perhaps being smaller wasn’t a disadvantage after all. Proudly you hand him the strange looking fruit.

“I need the whole crate.” Crosshair tells you unimpressed, before giving you the singular Meiloorun fruit and leaning over the stack of crates again. “And to answer your question, he was talking about the scars on his hand.” You lean against the tower so you can try to read his face as he yanks the crate forward.

“The burns or the wounds?” You ask, mulling over the fruit in your hands.

“Same thing.” Crosshair explains. “From a mission on Kashyyyk, Nython had the whole forest alight, and Hunter got trapped behind a blast door.” He watches as you cover your mouth with one hand as you remember the boasts, the gloat, the pride Nython had when he recounted the battle.

“You should’ve seen it,” There’s awe in Crosshair's voice now. “The Regs wanted to label him MIA, but that's not Hunter, not the Sergeant of ‘Force 99. When the squad hoisted him into that medical bay, he was barely alive.”

“No wonder he hates me.” You breathe, looking at the clone in front of you who shrugs.

“Don’t take it personally, he hates mostly everyone. We all do, it’s…” Crosshair stops and composes himself, like being honest or genuine with you is a weakness. “Nython decimated everything in his path. There’s what? A handful of Wookies left, half of those are thanks to him and all he can think about is how many he didn’t save.” You gently place your fruit on the box Crosshair is standing before you with. “It’s all a bit narcissistic if you ask me.” You smile at Crosshairs sass.

“You’d know.” You counter, trying to ease the tension in the room. “Thank you, for being honest.” You tell him, catching a smirk as he starts up the stairs.

“It’s one of my many endearing qualities.” He says, before shouting to his brothers about something that you don't even bother trying to understand.

With a look back at the hiding spot that you had chosen when you boarded the ship, you start up the stars and get back into the daylight. The captain is still gone, but Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker are each peeling a Meilroon fruit. You smile at them, they look so picturesque right now. The sea in the background and the three of them scraping the tough skin off of the fruits with knives. You’re reminded of children's picture books of pirates mulling over gold.

“Hey! What’s so funny?” Wrecker calls when he sees your big smile. Walking over, You plant yourself on the floor leaning against the banister.

“I half expected you all to break out into a sea shanty.” You tease reaching up to pick up a fruit.

“Ha ha.” Crosshair said dryly, giving you the handle of the knife to take from him to peel your own fruit. “Try not to chuck it at Tech again will ya?” you nod and very carefully start running the blade along the fruit.

“So no sea shanties then?” You ask, popping a piece into your mouth.

“We don’t sing.” Tech states.

“Yeah we do!” Wrecker argues, jamming his knife into the lid of the crate, “we know that one from-”

“Ferrik if you start singing that again.” Crosshair grumbles.

“THERE ONCE WAS A SHIP THAT PUT TO SEA” You all cringe when Wrecker starts shouting rather than singing, both of his brothers shout back simultaneously for him to stop, while you giggle from your spot on the floor. You could almost get used to their company, that and the fresh salty sea air, you are already beginning to enjoy the life of sailing. On the second floor, emerging from the captain's quarters, Hunter generally steps. Even someone without enhanced senses would have heard Wreckers incessant shouting and he has every intent on giving the three of them a lecture when he hears something else entirely.

“There was once a soldier who carried a mighty sword, and he had saved the village, oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.” Your voice accompanies soft taps to the wooden boards to create some kind of beat. The sound stops as soon as it starts.

“Don’t stop on our account.” He hears Tech's voice, and a stealthy Hunter moves to try and get a better view, he wants to know what you’re up to, and if you’re still trying to manipulate his crew.

“I’ve been told I have an atrocious singing voice.”

“It’s better than Wreckers.” Both Crosshair and Tech comment simultaneously. And Hunter hears you let out a half laugh. Some kind of reserved dainty thing that has him rolling his eyes.

“There was once a sailor, he had travelled the globe, his love he was chasing. oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.” You continue tapping again, “And there will come a captain who’s heart is completely pure, he will find those who are lost, oh lei,...” He hears you stop. As something catches your attention. And Hunter takes the opportunity to make an appearance.

You hear the captain’s footsteps before you turn your gaze away from the birds flying alongside the ship. “Who let the Aaray get a’ hold of a knife again?” He says looking down at you, the fruit and the blade. Hesitantly, and with only half of the Meilroon fruit peeled you give the knife back to Crosshair the same way he had originally given it to you. Pointing the handle towards him whilst gently holding the blade.

“I wasn’t going to…” You start.

“Going to what? Try and kill one of my crew again?” Hunter raises an eyebrow as if he’s daring you to disagree. You take a deep breath in, and hoist yourself onto shaky feet. Wrecker gives you a hand when your legs shake still in pain. Letting out your breath you lock eyes with the captain.

“I understand your hatred for that man,” You begin softly.

“No.” He snaps, “you don’t” You plead with his unforgiving eyes, and the way his half tattooed face scrunches in annoyance.

“You can’t be reasoned with.” You say hopelessly, knowing that whatever you say, it won't be enough.

“I should not have to reason with the likes of you.” Hunter bites. And at this point even Wrecker has given up trying to reason with him. Behind you, Tech’s Holopad beeps.

“I am not my Fiance!” You exclaim. “And yet you attribute all of his crimes to me, even the crime of trying to rid myself of Ny-”

Before you can react, Hunter moves fast as lightning, a hand on your throat, his own vibroblade dangerously close to you, bending you against the banister that stops you falling into the abyss alone. The three others brace themselves and when they move to help you, stop at the growl of anger from their sergeant.

“You do not. Say that name. On. My. Ship.” He tells the trembling woman beneath him.

“What happened to you Sergeant?” You breathe out, searching for the man that his brothers seem to think he is. Everything they tell you about him, every ‘he’s not like this.’ All of his actions point to the fact that he is like this. Something changes in his face, like he remembers where and who he is. And like Hunter is on fire, he steps away from you. The second there's room, Wrecker forces you behind him protectively.

“Sarge.” Tech says, his voice echoing like blaster fire in the mountains. “I think you should come with me.”

Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses @loverofclones @beizm @gunsmoke-blu

@logina6 @wondergal2001 @lafy-taffy @lafy-taffy @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s

@starskenobiwan @lordellbell @kaetavlos @violetjedisylveon @​​vergol @Lackofhonor

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 9)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses.

Chapter Nine: The Night at Sea

The second you attempt to reach behind to untie your corset, your arm spasms. The collision with the hull of the ship has left you shaken and battered and in no position to twist your body to undo the double knotted ties Seil, your handmaiden, would have tied. And your heart aches when you think of her.

You know that you shouldn’t sleep in the dirty clothes and the corset, but with the secure double knots there is no way to undo the ties yourself. And so you pull yourself into the hammock, landing face first, when your back muscles give out, into the netting tied to the wall. With a groan, you don’t even bother trying to move, and you pass out on the ship - having been through the ringer for what feels like a million times in one day.

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“Where is she?” Hunter grumbles when Tech returns to the group, looking up at the stars Hunter was using to calculate their ETA.

“Probably asleep in Echo’s hammock I'd guess.” Tech says plainly, and he watches as his sergeant’s face hardens.

“You need to learn how to follow orders.” He snaps, before going back to the map.

“Sarge,” Tech starts, “you’re displaying worrying symptoms.” He decides on. And under the hat he sees his eye twitch.

The barrage never ended, and the cannons never ceased. How much ammunition either side had left was impossible to guess. This creeping barrage was working. But only just. All they had to do was keep the separatists busy, the regs should be able to manage that at least. And rescue missions were the best kind of mission out there these days…

In the medical bay, Hunter shakes, the wookie child is long gone, and his vod have returned to keep their sergeant company while he heals. They’re angry, and resent him for the return-to-ship order from before. But the carnage that was left of Kashyyyk proved how right he was in securing the safety of Clone Force 99.

“Hunter, your hand.” Tech says looking at the cuts and mangled tissue.

“Kriffing door wouldn’t open.” He explains through drugged eyes. Thinking that the war is over. It has to be over. If not now, it has to be over soon. They can’t continue like this, there can’t be more missions like this. The war has got to be over soon.

Outside, the artillery starts firing again.

Hunter looks at Tech, watching the goggles reflect moonlight, and realises something that, in the chaos of the day, went unnoticed.

“Did Wrecker even lock the cell door?” He interrogates the shorter man in front of him.

“I don’t know.” Tech answers honestly with a shrug. “But even if he didn’t. You know he made the right call.” Hunter grunts in response.

“She’s a Aaray. A danger to us all” He says.

“We’ve been in worse predicaments.” Tech states. Watching as Hunter walks away from yet another conversation of theirs, and he wonders to himself, how long it will take for his captain to start screaming because of nightmares on this clear, calm, night at sea.

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Everything on your left side hurts. The hit from the ship has battered your skin, muscles, and bones. Sleep evades you because the only thing you can focus on is the pain. And when even laying down becomes too much, Gonk moves herself out of where she was curled on your back as you clumsy step out of the hammock, and begin to tread outside.

The three boys are asleep, and part of you chides yourself for being vulnerable in front of them. They could have thrown you in the birg - or worse. But a bigger part of yourself says that you can trust them. Probably more so than you’ve trusted anyone in your life. It’s a naive thought - and perhaps it’s built off of never having someone you can trust before, but a part deep inside of you jumps onto and clings to the idea of putting your faith in these men.

Maybe Crosshair was rough around the edges, and from what you can see, his glare stays with him while he sleeps. It makes you smile a little. And Wreckers exposed scars, they scare you, but the eye patch was so typical of the pirate stories you heard as a child, it’s like living in a fairy tale.

Someone clears their voice behind you.

It’s the Captain, or rather Hunter. Now only in his pants, and tunic, that's been bunched around his forearms in his sleep.

“Plotting something else perhaps?” He asks, crossing his arms in front of him.

“N-no,” you say, annoyed at how easily he makes you nervous. “I couldn’t sleep, I wanted fresh air, and they…” You pause, looking back at the crew. “They’re more manageable when they’re asleep.” The captain lets out a puff of air that's not in annoyance, and you take that as a small victory. And he watches when you crane your neck to look at the stars. He knows it’s because you feel awkward, but in another life, he would’ve found your curious eyes endearing.

“Am I missing something?” Crosshair asks, having woken on his own, and deciding to investigate the scuffle outside.

“Didn’t want the Aaray skulking around the ship.” Hunter answers, “nightmares?” he asks his brother, watching him shake his head no, and with that, one tension is lifted from the sergeants shoulders.

“Are you in pain?” Your voice comes out softly, and they both stare at you unabashedly. “I only mean, i just,” You go to explain. “From earlier the side of the…”

“Hull.” Hunter corrects on instinct, before chiding himself for doing so.

“The Hull, when you caught me…” You motion randomly with your hands as if that helps communicate to Crosshair what you mean, and he stares at you looking tired and vaguely annoyed.

“You’re in pain.” He tells you. And you’re a tad taken back because it hadn't shown on his face that he knew what you meant, let alone made the connection as to why you were awake and hence asked if he too, was hurting.

“I’m okay, I just wanted to…” you try to brush it off

“There’s no point in lying.” Crosshair interrupts, watching at Hunter’s features soften when he also takes in your appearance, leaning against the door, tense and radiating anxiety. He wonders if you’ve ever felt pain like this in your life. Living on a velvet cushion of upper class coruscant would call for little more than flimsiplast cuts. He watches you shrug off Crosshair's comment, intent on being the smallest problem you can possibly be. The man that Hunter was before would be reaching out for you, your messy hair, soft features, and innocence that he knows lesser men are itching to take advantage of.

“You should take that off.” Crosshair nods towards your dress and you gape at him.

“Crosshair!” Hunter barks on instinct, and not standing for the disrespect. He sees your face flush and your arms go around your waist protectively.

“Have I missed something?” A forth voice joins them outside of the bunks and Hunter inwardly groans. Now Tech is awake, what he hoped would’ve been a private nightly stroll has turned into some kind of situation report.

“Shockingly the Aaray is being uptight.” Crosshair moves to the opposite side of the doorway you’re leaning on.

“I don’t think it is fundamentally uptight to want to preserve my own modesty.” You say incredulously, and Hunter notes that you resort to your training as a lady when you become nervous. Just like his men resort to being soldiers when faced with problems.

“Crosshair!” Tech exclaims, glaring at his brother - he really needed lessons in things that are appropriate to say, and things that are not.

“I’m only asking you to take the corset off.” Crosshair says smirking, enjoying how flustered everyone is. And Hunter sees something flash in your eyes.

“Do you think you’re funny?” You snap, and the sniper stops smiling. “Is this a game to you? Clearly you have no concept of the ramifications on a woman should she ever do something like that. Or you have no concept of how dresses and corsets work - which wouldn't surprise me given your temperament.”

Hunter catches a small grin on his face, you’re alive tonight and he hates to admit that he likes it. The inference that Crosshair is too unintelligent to understand womens garments or that no women has let him close enough to understand them is both funny and potentially accurate.

“He does have a point.” Tech chimes in.

“Tech!” Hunter shouts, expecting better from him.

“I mean it might be adding pressure to areas already in pain.” He says quickly, his face as red as a zarrabak. And no one is surprised that he’s caught himself up in the conversation.

Behind all of you - Wrecker snores.

“I-I… can’t.” Your voice is small, and you’re looking at the floor, embarrassment pings in everyone's hearts when they realise that this is an important issue to you, and they’re talking about it like you’re not even present.

“We can give you private space if that's what you require.” Tech speaks up. And when you pause you can hear the waves crash in the night.

“Thank you.” You stammer out. This whole ordeal has become very embarrassing and as much as you want to deny the pain and tell the clones it’s nothing, you know both Crosshair and Tech will see right through whatever lie you construct.

“It’s, it’s just that…” You pause again. Maker if you tell them you can’t do it yourself you’re going to look as pathetic as you feel. “I would need assistance with the ties…” You mumble the last part to your bare feet that poke out under your dress. When you have the courage to look up again, all eyes are looking at Tech. The latter of the three simultaneously having decided he was most equipped for the job.

“Have at it, loverboy.” Crosshair jeers at his brother, and now both you and Tech are blushing madly.

“I’m surprised you're not jumping to the occasion.” Tech cracks back at him. And if you weren’t so self conscious in this moment you’d roll your eyes at how much they argue. Hunter remains deathly quiet.

“Unless she wants it cut off as i’m usually-” “Alright! Alright!” Tech cuts him off, and moves towards you while Crosshair snickers.

“Turn ‘round.” Hunter barks, and while you might think he’s telling you, he’s actually giving an order to Crosshair, as the trooper made no move to divert his eyes. And as Tech undoes just enough buttons to start loosening the corset he sees how taught the ties have become and yanks it towards him for leverage.

“Tech!” You squeal and gasp, trying to get away from him and he accidentally constricts you more. Sending pain shooting all over you as your injured body is put under more stress.

Hunter turns around at the sound of pain and sees both of you shaking, he knows you must be beyond embarrassed and Tech even more so. Your moss coloured dress is unbuttoned and the back pushed aside to reveal the cream corset. Hunter sighs, and pushes his brother aside.

You hear an ‘ow’ from Tech as well as what you suspect is Crosshair's hand connecting with the back of his shorter brother's head. As they walk away you shiver as you realize the captain is standing behind you.

“You’re fine.” He says plainly. Nimble fingers working at the knots quickly, you shake in the absurdity of it all, and the feeling of Hunter exhaling into your hair and neck as he works.

“This is so unbecoming.” You mumble to yourself in shame, jerking when you feel the tips of his hair brush against your skin.

“I recall you saying ‘fuck’ earlier.” Hunter scoffs at you, “I think you’re past unbecoming.” silently praising himself when one knot becomes free, whoever tied them must have known what they were doing because it feels more complicated than half the sail ties on the Muraduer. Then again, your activities of the day probably didn't help the situation.

“Captain, you’re basically undressing me.” You tell him, looking over your shoulder just in time to watch him still at your words. The part of his face you can see in this position is covered by the tattoo, but what the moon and stars manage to light up is stunning nevertheless.

“If you’re worried about modesty, I can’t see any more of your skin than I could before.” He reassures you, and you’re beginning to wonder what kind of man he really is. Hunter is so tender at this moment, so gentle. And yet you know what lies underneath.

Technically what he just told you is a lie, he can see the expanse of your back, and parts of your shoulders. But the way your brows creased in concern as you look back at him makes lying worth it as you relax a little bit. Trying to be annoyed at you for causing him grief, he goes back to the knots.

You gasp and clutch your chest as you feel him loosening the string as the last knot comes free. And you see the shock in Hunter's face when you whip around so he barely catches a glimpse of the slip that sits underneath the corset.

Maker, he thinks to himself, you’re so disheveled and scared by a simple act. He grits his teeth at the thought of how Nython would treat you, someone like you needed soft and gentle touches, words of affirmation. Hunter’s grinding his teeth together as he realizes the pride Nython would have in hurting someone as defenceless as yourself.

But then he thinks about how you held your own against his own crew today. And the captain of the Havoc Marauder thinks you’re not as defenceless as you look.

Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses @loverofclones @beizm @gunsmoke-blu

@logina6 @wondergal2001 @lafy-taffy @lafy-taffy @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s

@starskenobiwan @lordellbell @kaetavlos @violetjedisylveon @​​vergol @Lackofhonor

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 7)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter four Chapter five

Chapter Six

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers dad and betrothed are asses.

Chapter Seven: The The Havoc Marauder “How did you get out of the brig?” Tech asks you the second you're out of earshot of the captain. He looks judgemental and curious, and you’re not sure you want to tell him just how you managed to escape the cell. You still do not trust them. “I got the door open.” You tell him looking around, from here the ship looks quite small, the deck isn't all too long nor is it wide, and from the captains quarters looking to the front of the vessel you can appreciate the sleeknes of the ship.

“How did you get the door open?” Tech suppresses an eye roll and you simply shrug. More interested in Crosshair in the crows nest and Wrecker hauling different sails up and down. “None of you look that much alike.” You think aloud, marveling at the first clones you’ve ever met. “We are enhanced clones.” Tech states, and you nod. That makes sense given it seems they all have vastly different personalities. You see Hunter emerge from his quarters with a frown, looking for a situation report as well as an estimated time to Alderaan. “And the captain?” You turn to Tech who is squinting through his goggles at Hunter. “He never used to be this…” Tech starts mid thought before prematurely ending his sentence to stomp over and chastise Wrecker for the sail ties. Leaving you without the promised tour of the ship and very little knowledge on what you should do with yourself in the meantime. You briefly think about exploring yourself but decide to not push your luck. “If you’re not going to help, the least you could do is stand out of our way.” A gruff voice says from behind you, making you jump, how the captain snuck behind you unnoticed is a mystery. “What would you like me to do?” You ask, hoping to be helpful and ease his wrath. His stare to you is unnerving like he is analyzing your abilities. “Go find Gonk, and see what you can make of her.” He says before stepping past you - or rather, barging by so that you leap yourself into the wall just to get out of his way. “Who’s Gonk?” You shout after him and as he turns to answer Wrecker steps in. “You’ll love her!” he exclaims, and you realize his eye patch for the first time, and the pink scarred skin that crawls into the left side of his face like a spider's web. “Follow me, little miss!” He says crossing the deck and watching your awe when you see how high up Crosshair really is in the crows nest and your smile as he wrestles with Tech who's trying to communicate with him on the ground. “What’s your name lil’ miss?” Wrecker asks, pulling you away from the marvel, much to the delight of your neck as it relaxes from the extreme angle. You give your full name and watch as he shakes his head. “I meant like your nickname, what do you like to be called?” He corrects pushing a small door open ever so slightly. You pause, you don’t really have a nickname or a short form you like. “I guess I do not have one…” you trail off, “Tech said Aaray earlier, but i have a feeling it isn’t exactly a compliment.” You press one hand into the other, a disgusting nervous habit that your father tried to rid you of. Claiming the popping sounds were unlady-like and barbaric. “I think it suits you.” Wrecker exclaims with a laugh, but quells it when he sees your distressed face. “In a good way I mean, it’s a funny nickname for you Little Miss.” “And accurate…” Crosshair comments as he goes by up the stairs you and Wrecker are currently under in order to get to the small door. “What does it mean?” you ask, thankful that the breeze has let up thanks to the alcove. And it is much less bright down here, you can actually look at Wrecker without squinting. “WRECKER!” Someone screams above you, and raises your eyebrows at the sound, which is followed immediately by a laugh from your tall companion, before he turns away and dashes up the stairs, making a thunderous sound above you. Marvelling at having been forgotten a second time, you realise that these clones- or rather men, are probably not used to company. But rather than waiting for someone to find you, you decide to push

the door open. The end of your dress is fraying, the sleeves pushed up to give you more mobility, and the sight of your hand against the oak makes you want to laugh. Your father would be mortified to see you in this state, and that thought alone allows contentment to settle in your stomach. “Gonk?” You ask, pushing the door open all the way. This room is small, the smallest you’ve seen on the ship, with no windows and the only door being the one you currently stand in. The far corner opposite that of you, sits a GNK droid, it’s legs torn apart and panels missing from what would've been its front facing port. And as you venture further in, you can hear that the droid is still humming away, still trying to generate power. Behind you the door swings shut. And in the time it takes you to turn and react to the swoosh noise, and then back to the droid a pair of eyes, mismatched in colour, appear in the darkness. You freeze staring into the little beads of colour, one Purple and one blue, they blink at you. Before disappearing again back into the droid. And through the rummaging and eating sounds, you can guess where it went. Tiptoeing back to the door, you open it again looking for something to brace it on before the creature gets away. Grumbling when you don't see anything, you unlace one of your boots and wedge it between the door and the wall, before awkwardly stepping your way back to the GNK droid. This time when the eyes appear you see the small creature's face. Mismatched white and black fur that covers its body in patches, leaving some areas bare to the world. With paws ending in claws makes you think it could be some sort of Loth cat. But as it scurries up the wall you see it’s side orientated legs, long tail, lack of ears, and most shocking of all wings. Your gasp must startle it because the next thing you know it’s leaping towards you as you let out an undignified shriek. You feel its feet on your face as it crawls up to nestle in your hair, further disturbing the fancy updo you once had. “Wrecker!” You call into the darkness, thinking about how you ended up in this predicament, one boot missing and an unknown creature in your hair. When no one answers your call, you decide to become a lot less lady-like. “WRECKER!” You shout, which disrupts the animal and causes it to crawl and sit on the small of your back. The door opens to reveal a surprised clone, probably not expecting your voice to reach such levels. And as one eyebrow raises at you when you spin to face him. “What is it, Little Miss?” He asks, and you gingerly turn around to show him your new companion. “Oh, uh… TECH.” He shouts, deciding fairly quickly that this was not within his abilities to deal with. You turn your head to give him the side eye of disapproval, before Tech, holopad in hand greets you at the doorway. “Oh.” He echoes his older brother, “this is an interesting development.” He comments on venturing into the room. “I would beg to differ.” you counter. Tensing again as it moves from you back and up into the wisps of hair at your neck. “It appears to enjoy your body heat.” He adds as it begins to nuzzle into the space where your neck and shoulder scrunch in panic. “It was in the droid.” you tell him putting emphasis on ‘in’ and how you do not want to join in with that. “Must be a relative of the Ordo Moon Dragon, except this species seems much smaller, and descends explicitly from its older feathered relatives.” “That doesn’t exactly solve my current predicament.” You murmur to yourself, turning your head further away from the speckled thing. And it makes a small noise in disapproval as it can no longer burrow into your neck. It’s a kind of ‘puurrrrl’ sound, with rolling ‘r’s and a curious emphasis on the end of the sound. And its tail brushes your cheek as it turns to face tech. Before leaping over to him and landing on his HUD portion of his goggles. You turn around freely now, watching as it begins gnawing on the HUD and licking at the glass with its translucent tongue. “As I suspected.” Tech declares unphased, “it feeds on

energy. Hence the fate of the GNK droid.” “Haha!” Wrecker chuckles, “that's why we call er’ Gonk.” “It’s not dangerous, scans say its an Alach moon dragon, similar to a Kashyyykian Gecko.” You look at him skeptically. “It’s got fur.” You comment, having poured over natural encyclopedias long enough to know that most reptiles are not, in fact, furred. “Small feathers to be exact.” Tech corrects, “perhaps a result of our run from Kamino to Geonosis…” Tech thinks aloud, reaching up to carefully remove the creature from his goggles and place it back into your hands. “What does that mean?” You enquire staring at the mini-dragon a little less scared now. “We did a supply run of genect-” “The lady doesn't need to know about that Wrecker.” Tech hisses, “have manners.”he says with a glare, you hear a muffled apology before deciding to cut in. “The lady is also tired of her own lack of knowledge.” You add, wanting to giggle at how improper you’re being, feeling like a little kid sneaking too many sweets before a meal. You smile wholeheartedly when Wrecker’s face lights up. “The Genosians have underground fighting rings that the kaminoans provide spliced animals for. Mismatched creatures to battle each other for entertainment.” Crosshair says, toeing his big brothers to the side as he catches the tail end of your conversation. He smirks when your face falls in sadness. And Tech stares at his brother, sufficanlty unimpressed with his incessant need to create chaos wherever he went. Absent-mindedly you scratch under the creature's chin in pity, feeling better when it coo’s out in enjoyment. “Shall I just work the ship myself then?” the captain's voice travels in, prompting the three clones to rush back outside and causing the dragon to startle and make its way back into your hair. Hunter leans on the frame and crosses his arms at you. “I, uh- found Gonk.” you offer him nervously. “You found a pest.” He says. “That ate our droid.” He adds looking at the remnants of the GNK. “Did you not know it was here?” You ask, wondering about what else might be lurking in the darkness. “Are you trying to undermine my position as captain?” He asks walking up to you, but with your new friend in your hair you do not want to move and disturb her. “N- no.” you answer quickly. “That's ‘no captain’ to you.” He seethes. “No captain.” you repeat firmly. Trying to steady yourself under his gaze, it’s so intense you feel like you’re swaying, but that could just be the motion of the ship. Hunter smells like a fireplace in a blizzard, something sharp, Smokey and warm. You blink at him, doing your best to stare eye to eye. He looks at you for just a second longer than what one would call normal, before plucking Gonk out of your hair and leaving the room with her in his grasp.

Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses @loverofclones @beizm @gunsmoke-blu

@logina6 @wondergal2001 @lafy-taffy @lafy-taffy @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @starskenobiwan @lordellbell

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt8)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses.

Chapter Eight: The Alach Moon Dragon

“Excuse me!” You call out to the captain, sliding past your new companions quickly, hearing Tech chuckle behind you. When the captain ignores you, you call again.

“Excuse me!” You emphasize, getting ignored again as Hunter beelines to the side of the ship, when his intention to dump the small creature curling around his grasp becomes clear, you let go of ladylikeness all together.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You shriek at him, and even the tiny thing perks it head up at your nerve. Behind you, Crosshair laughs. You straighten your posture and clasp your hands together delectly. The captain looks like you’ve shocked the anger out of his system.

“I would very much appreciate it if you were to not throw her overboard.” You state trying to make up for your language.

“I think we’re past pleasantries sweetheart.” Hunter grits out.

“You can say that again, sarge!” Wrecker gleefully calls.

“Thank you Wrecker.” Hunter says dryly. Before looking back at the mini-dragon again, and with a huff, he comes back towards you.

“I’m sorry.” you apologize for a number of things, and if you’re analyzing the interaction the way Tech is, you’d see his gaze soften for the quickest of moments.

“Give me one reason not to dump this thing overboard.” He says holding up his hand where he holds the creature by its scruff. And you see the details of his burn mark more closely, and you can’t make out what are clearly Aurebesh letters, but they look extensive and painful.

“She’s an innocent creature.” You argue, fully aware of the comparisons between the small dragon and yourself. “I’ll take her, she’ll leave the ship with me.”

“Fine.” He says eyeing your wrists when you go to take her in your hands. “The bracelet.” Hunter says with a nod towards the gold on your wrist. In the background you hear someone comment ‘oh for fucks sake Hunter.’ But you ignore them. Sliding the ornate jewelry off of your wrist, juggling with your feathered friend, you drop it into his palm.

“Consider it the fare for two passengers.” You tell him.

“Fine.” He says again, turning his back on you. “I don’t want to see that thing near my quarters.” He calls back, and Tech comes to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Is he referring to the dragon or me?” you inquire.

“I haven't the faintest clue.” Your goggled shipmate admits.

You’ve had your share of awkward meals, forced dinners and luncheons with various upper class pricks. The kind that requires scrunched nose smiles and usually involve your silence or small nods of agreement.

This dinner is decidedly a different kind of awkward, and it’s refreshing to know that the company you’re in feels even more awkward than yourself. You almost enjoy this newfound weirdness as you sit and munch on dried meat with the clones.

“Gonk really likes you, Little Aaray” Wrecker comments through bites of food. You smile genuinely at the lizard on your shoulder.

“I think she’s marvellous.” You say, never having seen anything like her.

“Perhaps she’s drawn to your likeness.” Tech says regarding you both with the curious look that never leaves his face.

“Yes, compare the lady to a spliced organism that's got patchy fur” Crosshair rolls his eyes at his younger brother, and Tech rolls his eyes at his brother's comment.

“I meant that they’re both females. And it’s got patchy feathers. Not fur.” He points out. And you huff out a contained giggle.

“Thank you for recognizing that Tech, even in my ruined attire I am indeed a female.” You shoot playfully at him. Having since put your door-stop-boot back on, you’re a little more put together but all in all, still a mess. So you abandon the food and begin to work the pins out of your hair. Gonk perks her head up at your actions with another ‘bloooorg” sounding noise. You reward her with a chin scratch and notice all the eyes on you.

“Do I look that bad?” You tease the speechless clones in front of you. Hunter huffs to himself, Tech apologizes and starts a conversation with Wrecker.

“I’ve seen better.” Crosshair teases, making you laugh.

“So have I, but you don't see me complaining.” You counter without thinking. Slapping a hand over your mouth at the words, how have you lost years of politeness in the span of just a few hours?

“I’m so sorry-” you start an apology to Crosshair as he glares at you. But Wreckers laugh cuts you off.

“Lighten up Cross’air!” He says elbowing him in the side. “She got you good!” he exclaims, and you catch a smile from Tech. You clear your throat and wonder how coruscanti men would’ve reacted to your cheek.

“Can I ask-?”

“No.” Hunter cuts you off, and you take this chance to take in how he looks. Not exactly relaxed but as close to relaxed as he gets. Laying back on the crates wrecker dragged over for chairs, one foot propped on the tallest tower of provisions. His hat covers his face and he leans back on his arms, so you’re only assuming he’s glaring when he interrupts you.

“Sorry.” you mumble picking your ‘food’ up again.

“Ignore him.” Tech says, earning him a side eye from under the hat. “Ask us what you’d like to know.”

“I just, well, I was wondering about…” You trail off and crack your knuckles again, such a bad habit you chide to yourself. Hunter raises an eyebrow as he watches you crack them. - almost impressed at the action.

“About our mutations right?” Tech finishes your sentence, and continues on before you get the chance to nod. “Well you’ve probably deduced by now that Wrecker is the muscle of our operations, whereas I've been gifted with a brilliant mind.” Crosshair scoffs again. “Bless you.” Tech responds without missing a beat. “He-” Tech points to his ashy haired brother, “has exceptional aim, blaster or otherwise, hence him catching you earlier. And Hunter, Hunter’s got enhanced senses, he can feel things before anyone or anything else.” You let out a small ‘oh’ at that. They’re all so different it’s hard to picture them being clones of anybody, much less clones of the same person.

“That’s all very impressive.” You tell him, receiving proud smiles from Wrecker and Tech.

“But what about you?” Crosshair asks, raising a brow.

“Me?” You say with a breath of surprise. “Nothing makes me special.” You brush hair away from the shoulder Gonk is resting on.

“Then why does Nython want you so bad?” You bristle at the name and the twinge of maliciousness in Crosshair's voice. You fumble and look at your feet, moving your hair around in your hands as another nervous habit.

You don’t see Hunter tilt his head so he can see you from under his hat. Nor do you see the soft gaze he regards you with.

“I don’t know.” You respond, finally looking back at Crosshair, “I simply do not know.”

A silence falls over the group that isn’t nearly as comfortable as before, and on the horizon the sun begins to set. Hunter is still watching you from under his hat, he’s still not sure what to make of you. What kind of woman throws her life away as a stowaway? And where did you get this serge of bravery? No matter how hard he tries to hate you for ending up on his ship, he can’t deny the respect you deserve or holding your own against his crew.

And maybe he enjoys how you stare at the sunset, that wondrous look of longing and small smile, like you’re properly seeing it for the first time.

Shit. sunset. They’ve all been sitting around for too long.

You jump as the captain moves, tearing your eyes away from the brilliance of orange and red in the sky. You see his long legs uncross and swing off the crates so he can stand up with a groan.

“Sit rep?” He asks the group, and unsurprisingly tech answers.

“I’ll double check our heading and direction, however, knowing the Corillian Run I suspect we can tie down the sails for the night.”

“Shall we collect our finest blankets for the Aaray over here?” Crosshair asks, he sounds a little sarcastic, but not sarcastic enough to make his comment completely a joke and not hurtful. But his question does make everyone look at you. Where are you going to sleep?

On your shoulder, Gonk doesn't like the eyes on her, and she scrunches her nose, bearing teeth at the crew. Your heart swells, you know she’s being protective of herself but you can’t help but feel like you’ve finally got someone on your side. Even if it is a tiny awkward Moon Dragon.

“There's a bed in the brig.” Hunter says, almost like he’s testing you, or trying to provoke you, or perhaps, both?

“I’m not that dull,” You tell him, “I’m not going back down there.”

“Shame.” He says plainly. You look to Tech for help, thinking that perhaps he is the most reasonable of them all, surrounding, the wind chills you, and you’re envious of the men in thick jackets.

“What about Echo-” Wrecker begins, after no one offering you a space to sleep, you think he took the moment to speak up.

“She’s not taking Echo’s space.” The captain says harshly, and you look up at him from the crate you sit on. “You can sleep on the deck for all I care.” And with that he turns sharply before stalking away to what you assume is the captain's quarters.

“Ignore him.” Tech says, eyeing his sergeant suspiciously. And you take notice of the crinkle that forms right where the brim of his goggles end and his forehead peaks through.

“I do not think ignoring him is advisable.” You chime in, enjoying the huff of approval you get from Crosshair.

“He’s not…” Tech stars, before sighing and putting his food down. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

Gonk makes a small movement when you rush to follow Tech, and you guess that whatever kind of creature she is, it is not one of many words- or rather sounds. And as the sun sets, she becomes more lively, hence the name ‘moon dragon.’ you suppose. And as tech leads you below decks to an area that you assume is their dwelling.

Four hammocks are tied in each corner, allowing for maximum space. You can tell that wreckers is the biggest one, embedded into the sturdiest looking post that has notches in it, what they’re counting you don’t know. By sense of deduction, you guess that the folded blankets and organized trunks belong to Tech, and that the disarray of bolts, cleaning rags, and a singular pillow and blanket belongs to crosshair.

That leaves the hammock furthest from the door, to the left is wreckers hammock, and to the right, Techs. You assume this one, which is empty save for a notebook, ink and quill, belongs to ‘Echo’.

“How did he die?” You ask as softly as possible. And tech, who has busied himself in a thickly bound book from his hammock looks up briefly.

“Who?” he asks, going back to the pages.

“Echo…?” you ask again. Bristling when he laughs and flips the book closed.

“He’s not dead,” Tech says, shaking his head, “although I've got no idea how. What made you think he was gone?” You haven't decided how you feel about the way Tech looks at you, like he’s analysing your mind, and every way you answer a question, or move, tells him more than you intend.

“The way the Captain reacted, the fact he’s not here with you…” you trail off looking around the room, and the way the hanging lanterns brush against the dark wood.

“Echo’s waiting for us at Alderaan, he was taken by the Techno Union during the war, and is, well, he’s different now.” he tells you as honestly as possible, while opening the crate by Echo’s spot and grabbing a blanket - mumbling about how it wasn’t properly folded.

“You said that about the captain as well.” You say with a thank you when Tech hands you the blanket.

“Just call him Hunter.” Tech exasperates, “Hunter is a complex man, not easily trusting nor tolerant of many people. He feels betrayed, we all do.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, and watch as he shrugs.

“It’s not your fault.” He tells you, before heading back out to the deck of the ship, leaving you to think about what exactly happened in those wartime days.

Hopping off your shoulder, Gonk climbs the side of the ship, her mismatched eyes and tiny feathers catching the light strangely. It makes you wonder if you’re just as strange to the clones as the Alach Moon Dragon was to yourself.

[jessiebanethedragon]

White Sands Warm The Cold Sea (pt 11)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter ten

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses.

Chapter eleven: The Fires of Kashyyyk

It was supposed to be so easy, the mission was so effortless all members of Clone Force 99 had grumbled about it being assigned to them.

Why the jedi were wasting resources maintaining the hold on the forests of Kashyyyk was a mystery. The separatists were in retreat according to recent intel and if they kept pushing them to the opposite coast there wouldn't be a reason to evacuate.

Not to mention that Wookies were stubborn as banthas and trying to talk them into leaving their homes was difficult even without having to go through brain numbing translator droids.

Hunter had felt the rumbling of artillery machinery before he or anyone else could’ve heard it. But even with his enhanced senses, there simply was not enough time to get to safety before the barrage started. It was cruelly timed, and maliciously targeted. Taking out the bridge that connected the schoolhouse to the rest of the community. Before lazily picking off those who tried to escape or reach their children.

“Get back to the ship!” Hunter all but screams at Crosshair, Wrecker and Tech. It is as if on cue that the heavens open up to send rain down in massive quantities. And what isn't on fire becomes mush under his feet.

“We ain't leaving you.” Wrecker calls as droids begin their assault.

“Get back to the ship-”

“Hunter…” Tech starts

“THAT'S AN ORDER” Hunter screams when the trees catch fire, from artillery or the lightning he cannot tell. He tries to dig his boots into the mud, but the wetter it gets the less traction there is. As the sky darkens, the separatists cut all power to the city.

Crosshair meets Hunter’s eyes and with a single nod the sniper yanks his brothers towards the Havoc Marauder. With one hand tight on his viroblade, and the other on the barrel of his blaster, Hunter takes off towards the school.

It’s a mess of rain, mud, and fire. He loses count of how many times his feet slip, and by the time he reaches the bridge to the school, Hunter is the only person left standing. Injured Wookies groan in the mud and when he calls into his com for medics an abandoned crackle replies to him. No one is coming to their aid, the separatists had them trapped.

Hunter can feel the young Wookies cry for help, his enhanced senses feel the wails in his bones.

The last bridge suspends itself precariously in the wind, and the thunder, or cannons, he can’t tell which, shake the ground. The schoolhouse sits in the strongest tree of the Kashyyykian woods. Like ewoks they live happily away from the ground, even the built up mud rests on wooden slats and clay bricks. The circular building cuts into the tree itself, housing the young ones protectively. The sturdy bridge sits unyielding in the storm. And by the time Hunter reaches the schoolhouse, he has to kick aside the steaming droids that lay in his wake. Soft calls of Wookies spur him on, but with the cut of electricity, the door doesn't budge, wedging his vibroblade where the latch meets the wall it cracks open, only to slam shut again as he dodges a blaster bolt from behind him.

More droids hit the wood with a resounding thunk.

And with his whole body weight thrown in between the wall and the door Hunter gets it open. And like a stream of water the kids run out and across the bridge towards the beach. One stays and calls to him while pointing back inside. And his rusty Shyriiwook understands there's someone else still trapped. Ripping off his helmet, he wedges that between the door and the latch to keep it open.

Inside the school house it’s dark, satchels and materials lay strewn about, and focusing himself, Hunter hears a faint call.

“scrascra, akraakra!” The child calls for his parents. “acwoanak cooscwooowhwo akanworacwo acwoanak!”

help someone please help!

Hunter has never moved faster in his life. And he finds the fawn coloured Wookie in the last room with their wrist caught under a fallen durasteel beem. Legs kicking feebly as they try to right themselves.

“It’s okay.” Hunter tells them. “I’m here to save you.” and with one arm under the shoulder blades of the child and the other yanking on the beam he lifts.

The small fuzzy child clings to him for dear life as they are freed. And even more so when another shell makes contact with the building.

Making his way back through the rounded hallways he shields the child from the dropping cracks in the wood. As he rounds the last corner, there is a man in an unmistakable separatist uniform looking down at the helmet that has allowed his entrance into the school house.

He’s young, too young to be wearing the general uniform that sits on angry shoulders. But the chopped hair and figure matches with legends and ghost stories that regular clones insist on repeating.

Volim Nython turns towards Hunter and the child with a sick grin. With a disgusting click and slurp of his tongue and mouth, he spits on the once pristine floor.

“I would suppose I have you to thank for the disappearance of my bartering tools.” He comments. Watching as the clone in front of him tightens his grip on the Wookie child.

“Children are not bartering tools.” He seethes.

“Of course they are, and I should commend your efficacy of dismantling the droids, but I'm guessing from the armour you’re no average clone.” If Nython was one thing, he was smart, wickedly so. Hunter braces himself as another bomb shakes the building.

“General, we’ve pushed the republic forces onto the beach, awaiting your order.” The comlink sparks to life.

“Pull back,” He says calmly, turning away from Hunter. “But torch the forest, I don't want anyone left.”

“Rodger rodger.” Comes the reply and Hunter hears the shells fire at an even faster pace now.

“Lovely meeting you.” Nython says, pulling a flame detonator from his pocket. “Tell me, was it worth it? Giving those kids the illusion of salvation for what? A few moments?” Hunter's jaw twitches in anger.

“I guess not then.” The monster says dropping the detonator and calmly sliding through the gap in the door, watching the clone dash into cover as the tree lights up. And he waits just long enough to see the tattooed man pick himself and the kid up again. He wants to look in the clone's eye, through the flames, when he leans down to pick the helmet up. And he wants to hear the man scream through the storm when the door slides shut.

Tags: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @peacefulwizardfox @rex-meshla @s1st37 @and-claudia @kamino-mermaid @thelambandthewolffe @starwarsmeninhelmets

@bronvin @myeternalsin @sweetsunflowerkisses @loverofclones @beizm @gunsmoke-blu

@logina6 @wondergal2001 @lafy-taffy @lafy-taffy @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s

@starskenobiwan @lordellbell @kaetavlos @violetjedisylveon @​​vergol @Lackofhonor