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[letsquestjess]

Blood Daughter is now all done! Onto the sequel... eventually!

[STORY COMPLETE]

Summary: After Kallar Viren flees the Empire, his daughter sets out to find him, only to discover he has been taken by Imperials. With help from Clone Force 99, Zeraphine pushes through her losses in a race against the clock to rescue her father or face the galaxy as the last of her family.

Chapter 1 - Beacon

Chapter 2 - Rockfall

Chapter 3 - Keeping the Promise

Chapter 4 - Tactical Thinking

Chapter 5: Shadows of Tel-Kren

Chapter 6: The Progenitor

Chapter 7: The Order

Chapter 8: Trandoshan Net

Chapter 9: Voices from Beyond

Chapter 10: Brothers of the Forest

Chapter 11: Ricochet

Chapter 12: Freckles

Chapter 13: One Squad

Chapter 14: Following the Trail

Chapter 15: Steel Serpent

Chapter 16: Rack and Ruin

Chapter 17: The Last Viren

Chapter 18: The Good Fight

Short Stories

The New Commander | When Captain Vesper hears of his squad’s new commander, he is less than happy about it. After confronting Shaak Ti, the last thing he expects is to come face-to-face with the commander herself.

[letsquestjess]

If you're anxious about the pending Bad Batch finale, take a deep breath and take a look at these sleeping babies......

@zaya-mo @chrissywakingup @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @aintinacage @ladykatakuri @marierg @thecoffeelorian @salubriousbean

[letsquestjess]

i draw tech with streaks in his hair and um . yeah this is that

[letsquestjess]

*peeks out from the corner*

Carol! This is all so sweet, thank you so, so, so much! 🥹💜

I mean, how can I not write some more smut after such sweet comments 😏

One, Two, Throw (Hunter x F!Reader)

Summary: You look incredible throwing Hunter's knives, and he decides to show you just how irresistible you are.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Smut! 18+! MDNI! Fingering. It's Hunter-is-horny hour!

A/N: This is my first time writing smut and I'm a little torn between feeling proud and wanting to hide in a corner. Anyways, if people enjoy it, I'm down for writing some more.

-- -- -- -- --

“There you go,” Hunter encouraged, his touch on your waist warm and reassuring. His breath ghosted your nape as he leaned close to your ear. “Concentrate on the target and visualise it landing where you want to hit. Feel the weight of the knife, the way it balances in your hand.”

“If there was an enemy in front of me, they’d have got me by now,” you chuckled, glancing over your shoulder to offer him a mischievous smirk. “I know what to do, we’ve been doing this for hours.” 

With an amused glimmer in the flinty brown of his eyes, he stepped back and signalled for you to proceed. He had to admit there was a certain charm to witnessing your determination. You had a particular look in your eyes, a fire that didn’t burn or destroy, but kindled the very core of who you were, and it brought him an indescribable joy.

You returned to the target as you shuffled your feet in the grit and lifted the weapon. Your stare lingered on the silhouette framed by the shrubbery of the back garden. Scratches and dints marred the pale outline, hitting almost every place other than the one you wanted. You’d even managed to land a strike on the groin, which had earned you an instinctive wince from the sergeant. 

“Don’t strangle the knife,” Hunter cautioned as you were about to make your shot. “It needs to move.” 

Coughing pointedly, you rolled your shoulders. Hilt over blade, it rotated and revolved until lodging itself into the wood inches from your intended destination with a deliberate twang. You let out an irritated huff. 

“Keep trying,” Hunter said. “You’re getting better.”

“Seems like I’m getting worse.”

“You trust me, don’t you?” 

As you recovered the knife, you granted him a firm nod and a warm grin.

Again and again you tried, each attempt glancing off the edge or striking a non-fatal spot. It felt as though you would never take it down. Despite any doubts, Hunter’s constant reassurances kept your confidence from faltering. 

He asked a couple of times if you wanted to stop, but you adamantly refused. After all, you had suggested this to experience his world before he chose to settle down, and you were starting to understand him more. 

He rarely spoke about the hardships he and his brothers faced during the war or the difficulties he encountered after Order 66. As curious as you were, you didn’t want to pry. Although you had been dating for over a year, you understood that lightly encouraging him to talk was more effective than poking at his past. 

Hunter observed you with the intensity of a hawk, studying your posture, your fortitude, your concentration. By the stars, you looked amazing with a vibroblade in your grasp, staring down that wooden silhouette. Every time you squared your stance and locked onto your target, a flood of adrenaline travelled up his spine and exploded with anticipation as you unleashed your shot. In his ravenous gaze, you were magnificent. 

Sneaking closer, he inched his hands over your waist as you readied yourself for your next attempt. His lips swept behind your ear, planting a trail of kisses on your exposed skin. 

“Want to offer more tips?” you asked. 

He shook his head against your neck and continued his ministrations.

“I see, you’re trying to throw me off,” you figured. 

“In dangerous situations, there will always be distractions,” Hunter reasoned, his hips pressing into your rear and his enjoyment of the situation immediately becoming apparent. “You need to be able to block them out.” 

“Oh, so the enemy will be getting up close and personal.” You gave him a tantalising, raised eyebrow, almost bordering on mean, the sultry lilt in your tone even more so. “Is that what you meant, sergeant?” 

As if in a blur, he swiftly disarmed you, snatching the knife from your grasp and launching it. The vibroblade quivered in the chest of the wooden target.

Before you could catch your breath, he twirled you round and lifted you up, balancing you in his arms and latching his lips onto yours as he strode with purpose back into the cottage.  

Your hands found purchase in his hair as he nudged open the bedroom door and lay you down on the bed.

“Such a tease,” he murmured, breaths intermingling between kisses.

His mouth moved slow and deep, savouring the scent of you and your mounting arousal as his tongue explored your lower lip and slid inside. Tasting him like this had you tilting your hips, and he let out a low chuckle as he guided them back onto the fluffy bedspread.

“Hunter,” you groaned. 

“Do you have any idea how good you look with a knife in your hands? Never seen anything so tempting.” 

When you searched his eyes, you found nothing but pure devotion in them, an unyielding desire to be by your side for as long as time allowed. 

“You never gave up,” he continued, undressing you languidly and lavishing any stretch of skin he exposed. “I’m proud of you. You stood there, determined. Fucking incredible.” 

His kisses grew hungry as he finished unclothing you and discarded his own clothes, throwing them behind him with reckless abandon. He’d clean them up later. For now, all he craved was you. 

You smoothed his dark waves from in front of his face as he climbed back up to your lips. He slid his fingers between your breasts, massaging and playing with each in turn before he trailed lower. To say he was skilled with his hands would be an understatement; his caresses were gentle yet firm, creating masterpieces of bliss on your skin. With every inch of contact, your breath caught in your throat, a soldier’s hands but a loving touch, and a silent ‘I love you’ lingering within. 

Need gripped you and your nails dragged down the ridges of his chest and abdomen, lifting your hips to get him to explore the one place that ached for his talents. This time, he skipped the teasing and dipped a finger into the wetness between your legs, finding his way to your clit. With each circle he traced, he delighted in the enticing sounds you made, grinning mischievously as you pulled away to gasp, your head pressed against the pillows. 

When he gently slipped a finger inside you, your whimpers became moans. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold back from begging him for more, but you did your best. You knew how he loved making you feel good and working you up for him, and you wanted to let him have this. 

Hunter soothed the dip of your brow with a tender press of his lips, gazing at you as though you provided him with the air he breathed. He’d never tire of seeing you like this, sweat dappling your skin, body lifting and falling with each wave of pleasure. He craved to etch this view behind his eyelids to look at whenever he closed his eyes. “That’s it,” he whispered, spurring your rising bliss with another finger. 

“I need…” You swallowed and released a purposeful breath. 

“Tell me, sweetest,” Hunter cooed. “What do you need?” 

His fingers worked their way in and out while his thumb circled your clit. Your core lit up and your hips chased the motion. You couldn’t stop it, even if you tried, and this time, he didn’t ease you back down with a steady hand. He let you grind against him, hunting that sensation only he provided as his hard desire pressed against your abdomen. 

“Need you,” you whined. You brought him down for another kiss, determined for him to devour every single one of your senses. 

“All in good time.” He curled his fingers and brushed that particular spot that had you panting and squeezing your eyes shut while his other hand prowled up and down your body in slow, deliberate caresses. His kisses turned feverish before his teeth nibbled at your throat and a rumble purred in his own. 

He could smell you, you realised, the scent of your pleasure only heightening his own desire to sink into you. 

The hunger within you built as he quickened his pace and your climax thundered ever closer. “Hunter, I…” you breathed. “I’m so…”

“Can feel it,” he practically growled into your neck as your pussy clutched onto him, the tip of his nose brushing yours with every thrust of his fingers. “Let go. I’ve got you.” 

That was all you needed, those three words spoken with such security and tenderness, and the tightening coil in your core snapped. White hot seared through your veins and covered your body in pure bliss as he coaxed you through your high. As your pleasure reached its highest point, you gave a soft groan, your nails digging into his shoulders to ground you. 

Hunter kept you afloat, his movements inside you slowing. He hushed your whimpers and kissed the corner of your lips as you panted. “That’s my girl. You good?”

“Better than good,” you managed to get out. “Maybe I should practice knife throwing more often.” 

You smirked at the muffled vibration in Hunter’s throat as his eyes fluttered shut, and you could almost see the image of yourself wielding his knives imprinting on his mind. 

“Later,” he assured you. “We’re nowhere near done here yet.” 

I'm going to start a separate NSFW taglist since I know that it's not for everyone. If you would like to be added, feel free to send me a message.

[letsquestjess]

Hunter: and now we add spicy stuff to our liking

Crosshair:…

Hunter: you can stop anytime now Cross

On today’s episode of: ✨Cooking with Hunter✨, we see Crosshair, the spicy hot goblin, in action, much to Hunter’s disappointment XD

I just think Crosshair is that kind of guy y’know? The guy that feels like nothing is spicy enough? Yeah you know the guy XD

Omega and Hunter cooking

Also here’s a link to my Patreon! I post my drawings there early and sometimes they’re exclusive! You’ll also get some behind the scenes from other projects! ✌️✨

[letsquestjess]

Added to the list! 💜

One, Two, Throw (Hunter x F!Reader)

Summary: You look incredible throwing Hunter's knives, and he decides to show you just how irresistible you are.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Smut! 18+! MDNI! Fingering. It's Hunter-is-horny hour!

A/N: This is my first time writing smut and I'm a little torn between feeling proud and wanting to hide in a corner. Anyways, if people enjoy it, I'm down for writing some more.

-- -- -- -- --

“There you go,” Hunter encouraged, his touch on your waist warm and reassuring. His breath ghosted your nape as he leaned close to your ear. “Concentrate on the target and visualise it landing where you want to hit. Feel the weight of the knife, the way it balances in your hand.”

“If there was an enemy in front of me, they’d have got me by now,” you chuckled, glancing over your shoulder to offer him a mischievous smirk. “I know what to do, we’ve been doing this for hours.” 

With an amused glimmer in the flinty brown of his eyes, he stepped back and signalled for you to proceed. He had to admit there was a certain charm to witnessing your determination. You had a particular look in your eyes, a fire that didn’t burn or destroy, but kindled the very core of who you were, and it brought him an indescribable joy.

You returned to the target as you shuffled your feet in the grit and lifted the weapon. Your stare lingered on the silhouette framed by the shrubbery of the back garden. Scratches and dints marred the pale outline, hitting almost every place other than the one you wanted. You’d even managed to land a strike on the groin, which had earned you an instinctive wince from the sergeant. 

“Don’t strangle the knife,” Hunter cautioned as you were about to make your shot. “It needs to move.” 

Coughing pointedly, you rolled your shoulders. Hilt over blade, it rotated and revolved until lodging itself into the wood inches from your intended destination with a deliberate twang. You let out an irritated huff. 

“Keep trying,” Hunter said. “You’re getting better.”

“Seems like I’m getting worse.”

“You trust me, don’t you?” 

As you recovered the knife, you granted him a firm nod and a warm grin.

Again and again you tried, each attempt glancing off the edge or striking a non-fatal spot. It felt as though you would never take it down. Despite any doubts, Hunter’s constant reassurances kept your confidence from faltering. 

He asked a couple of times if you wanted to stop, but you adamantly refused. After all, you had suggested this to experience his world before he chose to settle down, and you were starting to understand him more. 

He rarely spoke about the hardships he and his brothers faced during the war or the difficulties he encountered after Order 66. As curious as you were, you didn’t want to pry. Although you had been dating for over a year, you understood that lightly encouraging him to talk was more effective than poking at his past. 

Hunter observed you with the intensity of a hawk, studying your posture, your fortitude, your concentration. By the stars, you looked amazing with a vibroblade in your grasp, staring down that wooden silhouette. Every time you squared your stance and locked onto your target, a flood of adrenaline travelled up his spine and exploded with anticipation as you unleashed your shot. In his ravenous gaze, you were magnificent. 

Sneaking closer, he inched his hands over your waist as you readied yourself for your next attempt. His lips swept behind your ear, planting a trail of kisses on your exposed skin. 

“Want to offer more tips?” you asked. 

He shook his head against your neck and continued his ministrations.

“I see, you’re trying to throw me off,” you figured. 

“In dangerous situations, there will always be distractions,” Hunter reasoned, his hips pressing into your rear and his enjoyment of the situation immediately becoming apparent. “You need to be able to block them out.” 

“Oh, so the enemy will be getting up close and personal.” You gave him a tantalising, raised eyebrow, almost bordering on mean, the sultry lilt in your tone even more so. “Is that what you meant, sergeant?” 

As if in a blur, he swiftly disarmed you, snatching the knife from your grasp and launching it. The vibroblade quivered in the chest of the wooden target.

Before you could catch your breath, he twirled you round and lifted you up, balancing you in his arms and latching his lips onto yours as he strode with purpose back into the cottage.  

Your hands found purchase in his hair as he nudged open the bedroom door and lay you down on the bed.

“Such a tease,” he murmured, breaths intermingling between kisses.

His mouth moved slow and deep, savouring the scent of you and your mounting arousal as his tongue explored your lower lip and slid inside. Tasting him like this had you tilting your hips, and he let out a low chuckle as he guided them back onto the fluffy bedspread.

“Hunter,” you groaned. 

“Do you have any idea how good you look with a knife in your hands? Never seen anything so tempting.” 

When you searched his eyes, you found nothing but pure devotion in them, an unyielding desire to be by your side for as long as time allowed. 

“You never gave up,” he continued, undressing you languidly and lavishing any stretch of skin he exposed. “I’m proud of you. You stood there, determined. Fucking incredible.” 

His kisses grew hungry as he finished unclothing you and discarded his own clothes, throwing them behind him with reckless abandon. He’d clean them up later. For now, all he craved was you. 

You smoothed his dark waves from in front of his face as he climbed back up to your lips. He slid his fingers between your breasts, massaging and playing with each in turn before he trailed lower. To say he was skilled with his hands would be an understatement; his caresses were gentle yet firm, creating masterpieces of bliss on your skin. With every inch of contact, your breath caught in your throat, a soldier’s hands but a loving touch, and a silent ‘I love you’ lingering within. 

Need gripped you and your nails dragged down the ridges of his chest and abdomen, lifting your hips to get him to explore the one place that ached for his talents. This time, he skipped the teasing and dipped a finger into the wetness between your legs, finding his way to your clit. With each circle he traced, he delighted in the enticing sounds you made, grinning mischievously as you pulled away to gasp, your head pressed against the pillows. 

When he gently slipped a finger inside you, your whimpers became moans. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold back from begging him for more, but you did your best. You knew how he loved making you feel good and working you up for him, and you wanted to let him have this. 

Hunter soothed the dip of your brow with a tender press of his lips, gazing at you as though you provided him with the air he breathed. He’d never tire of seeing you like this, sweat dappling your skin, body lifting and falling with each wave of pleasure. He craved to etch this view behind his eyelids to look at whenever he closed his eyes. “That’s it,” he whispered, spurring your rising bliss with another finger. 

“I need…” You swallowed and released a purposeful breath. 

“Tell me, sweetest,” Hunter cooed. “What do you need?” 

His fingers worked their way in and out while his thumb circled your clit. Your core lit up and your hips chased the motion. You couldn’t stop it, even if you tried, and this time, he didn’t ease you back down with a steady hand. He let you grind against him, hunting that sensation only he provided as his hard desire pressed against your abdomen. 

“Need you,” you whined. You brought him down for another kiss, determined for him to devour every single one of your senses. 

“All in good time.” He curled his fingers and brushed that particular spot that had you panting and squeezing your eyes shut while his other hand prowled up and down your body in slow, deliberate caresses. His kisses turned feverish before his teeth nibbled at your throat and a rumble purred in his own. 

He could smell you, you realised, the scent of your pleasure only heightening his own desire to sink into you. 

The hunger within you built as he quickened his pace and your climax thundered ever closer. “Hunter, I…” you breathed. “I’m so…”

“Can feel it,” he practically growled into your neck as your pussy clutched onto him, the tip of his nose brushing yours with every thrust of his fingers. “Let go. I’ve got you.” 

That was all you needed, those three words spoken with such security and tenderness, and the tightening coil in your core snapped. White hot seared through your veins and covered your body in pure bliss as he coaxed you through your high. As your pleasure reached its highest point, you gave a soft groan, your nails digging into his shoulders to ground you. 

Hunter kept you afloat, his movements inside you slowing. He hushed your whimpers and kissed the corner of your lips as you panted. “That’s my girl. You good?”

“Better than good,” you managed to get out. “Maybe I should practice knife throwing more often.” 

You smirked at the muffled vibration in Hunter’s throat as his eyes fluttered shut, and you could almost see the image of yourself wielding his knives imprinting on his mind. 

“Later,” he assured you. “We’re nowhere near done here yet.” 

I'm going to start a separate NSFW taglist since I know that it's not for everyone. If you would like to be added, feel free to send me a message.

[letsquestjess]

Blood Daughter - Chapter 18: The Good Fight (End)

Story Summary: After Kallar Viren flees the Empire, his daughter sets out to find him, only to discover he has been taken by Imperials. With help from Clone Force 99, Zeraphine pushes through her losses in a race against the clock to rescue her father or face the galaxy as the last of her family.

Warnings: None.

Chapter 17

Read from the beginning.

A/N: I can't believe I actually finished this one, but here we are at the end! To all of you who have read this all the way through, thank you so much! I am planning a sequel but it may be a bit of a way off yet.

-- -- -- -- --

Grumbling, Zeraphine straightened up and picked off the specks of lint from her fitted shirt, twisting slightly and studying her reflection in the floor-length mirror. The knives strapped to her knee-high boots soaked in the silvery light on top of the reflective glass and cast a rainbow shimmer up the side of her trousers. 

She brushed away the last of the fluff from her clothing before fastening her chest plate and matching shoulder pads, her touch lingering on the distinctive grey and red style of Mantle Squad. Vesper had spent weeks perfecting the design, refining elements from their former division and the familiar patterns of her home. Their late night discussions and her candid admission of not wanting to abandon her past completely had sparked the idea, and he figured what better way for her to carry her family and her loved ones with her than in the armour she wore to shield herself. 

‘A token of love and protection,’ he whispered to her as he’d helped her try them on for the first time. ‘An emblem of how far you have come.’

With the pieces fixed into place with a satisfying click, she slid on a pair of snug, fingerless gloves and flexed her hands. A strange sense settled over her to shed the Blood Daughter uniform, to set that part of her in the annals of her life and step out into the world anew. 

As she trailed her fingers up her left arm, she tracked the smooth lines of her newly healed tattoos. A stark black skull with a crimson Aurabesh ‘99’ contrasted the pale skin on her bicep, and delicately dotted on her wrist were three powder blue achelda flowers, the symbol of peace on her homeworld and representative of her departed family. 

She took in her appearance and smiled. The restless fidgets subsided, and she began to see herself through clearer eyes, as the person she always dreamed of becoming. A fighter on her own terms. With no superiors left, there would be no more bowing or obeying orders. Her path from now on was her own to decide, hers to shape and create, and a dispirited thrill surged through her. 

One half of her vibrated with anticipation, eager to unleash havoc upon the Empire, but the other clung to fragments of her old life. All she had ever known was the Phominian army, the esteemed Blood Daughters and their mission to safeguard their home. In truth, she wasn’t entirely certain of her identity without them, but she remained resolute in her quest to discover it. To honour the warriors of Phomina Nine and do her family proud. 

The door slid open with a soft whoosh. As Vesper entered, he slowed, mesmerised by the woman checking her reflection. Since she had returned to the clone base, her reserved silence had transformed into a quiet, resolved rage. The once loose clothing that hid her form now hugged her silhouette, and the braided hair that used to cascade down her back and obscure her face was fashioned into a regal crown atop her head, openly displaying the bold red markings on her cheeks. A storm disguised as a dream, he’d thought to himself a few mornings ago as he watched her dress from the comfort of their bed. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Vesper said, retrieving her glass swords from the clips on the wall and helping her clasp them to her belt. Their delicate, deadly sound twinkled in such an alluring way he couldn’t imagine ever growing tired of it. 

“It is a little odd to be out of the uniform I spent so long in,” she confessed, savouring his touch as he placed his hands on her hips and nestled his chin on her shoulder. “But… this is more like me. The start of my legacy.” Her fingers instinctively found their way to the Viren family pin dangling from her slender chain. 

Vesper’s agreeing hum resonated up his throat as he planted kisses on the Mantle Hawk markings she once told him she hated. Yet now, she bore them with pride, with tenacity. “I am proud of you,” he murmured between open-mouthed pecks.

As he tightened his arms around her midriff, she placed her gloved hands over his scarred ones and tilted her head to catch his mouth, her eyebrows dipping as he licked along her bottom lip and teased his way in. 

“Sometimes, I wonder if I have dreamed all of this,” she breathed. “If I’m going to wake up and you’re gone.”

“I am here,” Vesper promised, squeezing her hands to emphasise his presence and his commitment. “You aren’t dreaming. You feel me here with you, right?”

“I do. I feel your body close to mine, and in here.” She guided his hand to rest against her chest, above her heart. 

The room hushed. Their breathing aligned and for a peaceful moment, they existed as one, united in love and cause. 

“I love you, Vesper,” Zeraphine sighed. “By the stars, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Vesper replied, inhaling the citrus scent of her shampoo. “My sunlight.”

The device around the captain’s wrist buzzed and beeped, shattering the tranquil lull they had cultivated. “It looks like they’re almost here,” he said, parting from her with reluctance and angling her away from the mirror. “Okay then. Are you ready?” 

* * *

Like a halo crowning the horizon, the sun sank and waved goodbye in a bloom of fiery gold. Crouched in the autumnal grass, the clones of Rex’s network got to work painting the mass of paper spheres, replicating the helmet patterns of their fallen brothers. Chatter tickled the evening air, and the occasional flutter of laughter broke out amongst the groups. Joining the gathering, more arrived from the base, armed with paint and contributing to the symphony of voices and the flourishing field of remembrance. 

Rising from her knees, Zeraphine set her brush into the water jar and dusted the residue off her palms. Across the plain, the wilting grass bore the weight of hundreds of designs, the survivors memorialising the departed in the only way they knew how: together. 

As she walked between clusters of preoccupied clones, she picked up on the promises spoken to the orbs, pledges to fight for a better day uttered into the paint like oaths. Even after the longest night, the sun always rises, she thought, reflecting on the Phominian proverb her mother had shared during setbacks. And it will. We will bask in that warmth. 

The longer the Imperials continued their tirade, the more her doubt grew, questioning if they would ever embrace that comforting light again, whether the Republic would be born anew and the troubling times left for the history books. But as she looked around at the assembled clones, the unbreakable bond they shared blanketed her in a warm optimism. How could such unwavering loyalty and fearless bravery not grant them the quiet they so rightfully deserved? The Empire would fall and they would all get their peace. She would make sure of it. 

A ship approached from above the city line, engines purring as it came to an abrupt halt and pivoted before touching down on the dirt. Spotting familiar armour descending the landing ramp, she broke into a sprint. Wrecker caught her first, his brawny arms lifting her into a dizzying whirl. “I was wondering where you were,” she said as he gave her a quick squeeze and deposited her back onto her feet. 

“We were taking our new ship for a spin,” Hunter replied, patting the exterior.

“How does it fly?” Zeraphine asked. 

“Like a dream,” Echo reported. “It’s an incredible gift. Thank you.”

“After everything you did for me, it was the least I could do. I also installed a secure channel in your communications unit that will put you straight through to The Progenitor. You know, if you wanted to call.” 

“Based on how Omega’s been talking, you’ll be receiving weekly transmissions.”

“I can’t argue with that.” 

A warm smile passed between the two, and the young female clone peered up at her with eager eyes, a silent promise that she really would be in contact every week. 

“What do you plan on doing now, commander?” Hunter questioned. “I’m guessing Rex has asked you to stay.”

“He has,” Zeraphine confirmed, “and I have promised to do everything in my power to help him, but…” 

“But?” Hunter prompted. 

Zeraphine reached for her datapad, tucked away in a small pouch on her belt, and began scrolling through her messages. “A few rotations ago,” she stated, turning the translucent screen around to reveal the attached image, “I received a transmission from Rillen. He got home and started gathering information for me.”

“Is that…?” Squinting at the slightly pixilated photo, Wrecker shook his head in disbelief. “Is that Vault?”

“Yes,” Zeraphine said in a delighted yet concerned breath. “Rillen discovered he has been stationed on Phomina Nine since the war ended to protect the governor. Given Vault’s knowledge of the land, I suppose it’s only logical to assign him there.”

“Either that or they’re rubbing salt in his wounds,” Hunter pointed out. “I wouldn’t put it past the Empire to want to hurt him more than they already have.” 

“Does he still have his chip?” Echo asked, not wanting to dampen her hope, but also not wishing for her to jeopardise herself any further. 

“I don’t know,” Zeraphine admitted, “but one way or another, I am going to bring him home to his family.”

“We are going to bring him home,” a soothing, low tone corrected from behind her.

With clasped arms and nods of solidarity, Vesper greeted his brothers in turn and ruffled Omega’s blonde curls. He positioned himself beside Zeraphine, and his hand instinctively found its place on the small of her back. “It’s good to catch up with you all again. I see you have your new ship. It turned out better than I expected.”

“You doubt your own skills?” Zeraphine said with a devilish grin. 

“No. When I did the sketches, I wasn’t sure about the secondary thruster placements, but it ended up working out nicely.”

“You designed our ship?” Omega said in awe. 

With a slight shyness in the gesture, Vesper nodded to the young clone. “I did. You’ve all done a lot for Zera and me, and we wanted to give you something in return.” 

A high-pitched whistle cut through the air and captured their attention. From the centre of the field of painted paper spheres, Rex signalled to the Phominian commander. 

“Looks like we’re good to go,” Zeraphine said, her footsteps crunching through the dry grass as she led the way to the spread of waiting clones.  

After they were all gathered, she inhaled deeply, connecting with the Force to harness that harmonious energy and release it steadily into the dirt. Slowly, the orbs began to lift, their illuminated interiors activating and casting a radiant glow that made the early sprawl of stars look dim in comparison. 

She concentrated on the gradual ascent and once the air caught them, she let the breeze curl its caring hands underneath to continue their journey into the sky. 

“There,” she said to Echo, gesturing up to one orb in particular. 

He identified the design as soon as he saw it. White with curved blue lines and red dots, and a black Aurabesh ‘5’, it was difficult to miss. 

“Rex painted it himself,” Zeraphine told him. “Poured weeks of work into it. He did a few others too.”

As she pointed them out in turn, like a calling, his brothers were there with him, jostling his shoulder and offering words of encouragement. Never forgotten and always a part of him. 

The night sky blossomed in remembrance and Zeraphine looked up at the squad who had willingly followed her into darkness, who had helped her as loyally as her own and risked their lives to support her. Through every twist and turn, they had remained by her side, devoted almost to a fault. “Keep on fighting the good fight, Clone Force Ninety-Nine,” she told them. “I sure as hell am.” 

[letsquestjess]

Sharing a few Imperial! Batch edits because these deserve a life outside our Discord:

[letsquestjess]

UNFORTUNATELY…

Yes

[letsquestjess]

Agreed! There's so much stuff in my fics, both original and fanfiction, that I plan into the backstory that never actually gets mentioned, but I know it's there 🤣

Alright alright alright! ;)

Whatcha workin on, fic-wise?

What are you excited about, and what may be causing some trouble?

Hello Free!!! Thank you for the ask! 😊

On the fic front, I have quite a bit in the pipeline and oh how I wish there were more hours in the day. I’ve got a Wolffe x Reader fic that has been waiting patiently to be written since last year (whoops), a handful of Blood Daughter shorts I need to get done, and a few Bad Batch x Reader ideas.

What I’m most excited about at the minute though is the Crosshair x Eudora (OC) fic I’m currently working on called It Never Rains. I have the first four chapters drafted, but what I’ve really had trouble with is finding the right balance for Eudora’s backstory. Coming from a family of healers, she has the ability to save lives and also end them in quite discreet ways. It got to the point where a lot of it felt crammed in and I ended up removing big chunks of it to flesh out other parts of her backstory that directly impacts on who she is and what her motivations are at that point in the story like the conflict between her brothers, the role she played in rebelling against the Separatists, and healing the clones who got trapped on her homeworld during the war. It’s a lot of work but a lot of fun, and I can’t wait to start posting it 💜

[letsquestjess]

Thank you! Added you to the taglist 💜

One, Two, Throw (Hunter x F!Reader)

Summary: You look incredible throwing Hunter's knives, and he decides to show you just how irresistible you are.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Smut! 18+! MDNI! Fingering. It's Hunter-is-horny hour!

A/N: This is my first time writing smut and I'm a little torn between feeling proud and wanting to hide in a corner. Anyways, if people enjoy it, I'm down for writing some more.

-- -- -- -- --

“There you go,” Hunter encouraged, his touch on your waist warm and reassuring. His breath ghosted your nape as he leaned close to your ear. “Concentrate on the target and visualise it landing where you want to hit. Feel the weight of the knife, the way it balances in your hand.”

“If there was an enemy in front of me, they’d have got me by now,” you chuckled, glancing over your shoulder to offer him a mischievous smirk. “I know what to do, we’ve been doing this for hours.” 

With an amused glimmer in the flinty brown of his eyes, he stepped back and signalled for you to proceed. He had to admit there was a certain charm to witnessing your determination. You had a particular look in your eyes, a fire that didn’t burn or destroy, but kindled the very core of who you were, and it brought him an indescribable joy.

You returned to the target as you shuffled your feet in the grit and lifted the weapon. Your stare lingered on the silhouette framed by the shrubbery of the back garden. Scratches and dints marred the pale outline, hitting almost every place other than the one you wanted. You’d even managed to land a strike on the groin, which had earned you an instinctive wince from the sergeant. 

“Don’t strangle the knife,” Hunter cautioned as you were about to make your shot. “It needs to move.” 

Coughing pointedly, you rolled your shoulders. Hilt over blade, it rotated and revolved until lodging itself into the wood inches from your intended destination with a deliberate twang. You let out an irritated huff. 

“Keep trying,” Hunter said. “You’re getting better.”

“Seems like I’m getting worse.”

“You trust me, don’t you?” 

As you recovered the knife, you granted him a firm nod and a warm grin.

Again and again you tried, each attempt glancing off the edge or striking a non-fatal spot. It felt as though you would never take it down. Despite any doubts, Hunter’s constant reassurances kept your confidence from faltering. 

He asked a couple of times if you wanted to stop, but you adamantly refused. After all, you had suggested this to experience his world before he chose to settle down, and you were starting to understand him more. 

He rarely spoke about the hardships he and his brothers faced during the war or the difficulties he encountered after Order 66. As curious as you were, you didn’t want to pry. Although you had been dating for over a year, you understood that lightly encouraging him to talk was more effective than poking at his past. 

Hunter observed you with the intensity of a hawk, studying your posture, your fortitude, your concentration. By the stars, you looked amazing with a vibroblade in your grasp, staring down that wooden silhouette. Every time you squared your stance and locked onto your target, a flood of adrenaline travelled up his spine and exploded with anticipation as you unleashed your shot. In his ravenous gaze, you were magnificent. 

Sneaking closer, he inched his hands over your waist as you readied yourself for your next attempt. His lips swept behind your ear, planting a trail of kisses on your exposed skin. 

“Want to offer more tips?” you asked. 

He shook his head against your neck and continued his ministrations.

“I see, you’re trying to throw me off,” you figured. 

“In dangerous situations, there will always be distractions,” Hunter reasoned, his hips pressing into your rear and his enjoyment of the situation immediately becoming apparent. “You need to be able to block them out.” 

“Oh, so the enemy will be getting up close and personal.” You gave him a tantalising, raised eyebrow, almost bordering on mean, the sultry lilt in your tone even more so. “Is that what you meant, sergeant?” 

As if in a blur, he swiftly disarmed you, snatching the knife from your grasp and launching it. The vibroblade quivered in the chest of the wooden target.

Before you could catch your breath, he twirled you round and lifted you up, balancing you in his arms and latching his lips onto yours as he strode with purpose back into the cottage.  

Your hands found purchase in his hair as he nudged open the bedroom door and lay you down on the bed.

“Such a tease,” he murmured, breaths intermingling between kisses.

His mouth moved slow and deep, savouring the scent of you and your mounting arousal as his tongue explored your lower lip and slid inside. Tasting him like this had you tilting your hips, and he let out a low chuckle as he guided them back onto the fluffy bedspread.

“Hunter,” you groaned. 

“Do you have any idea how good you look with a knife in your hands? Never seen anything so tempting.” 

When you searched his eyes, you found nothing but pure devotion in them, an unyielding desire to be by your side for as long as time allowed. 

“You never gave up,” he continued, undressing you languidly and lavishing any stretch of skin he exposed. “I’m proud of you. You stood there, determined. Fucking incredible.” 

His kisses grew hungry as he finished unclothing you and discarded his own clothes, throwing them behind him with reckless abandon. He’d clean them up later. For now, all he craved was you. 

You smoothed his dark waves from in front of his face as he climbed back up to your lips. He slid his fingers between your breasts, massaging and playing with each in turn before he trailed lower. To say he was skilled with his hands would be an understatement; his caresses were gentle yet firm, creating masterpieces of bliss on your skin. With every inch of contact, your breath caught in your throat, a soldier’s hands but a loving touch, and a silent ‘I love you’ lingering within. 

Need gripped you and your nails dragged down the ridges of his chest and abdomen, lifting your hips to get him to explore the one place that ached for his talents. This time, he skipped the teasing and dipped a finger into the wetness between your legs, finding his way to your clit. With each circle he traced, he delighted in the enticing sounds you made, grinning mischievously as you pulled away to gasp, your head pressed against the pillows. 

When he gently slipped a finger inside you, your whimpers became moans. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold back from begging him for more, but you did your best. You knew how he loved making you feel good and working you up for him, and you wanted to let him have this. 

Hunter soothed the dip of your brow with a tender press of his lips, gazing at you as though you provided him with the air he breathed. He’d never tire of seeing you like this, sweat dappling your skin, body lifting and falling with each wave of pleasure. He craved to etch this view behind his eyelids to look at whenever he closed his eyes. “That’s it,” he whispered, spurring your rising bliss with another finger. 

“I need…” You swallowed and released a purposeful breath. 

“Tell me, sweetest,” Hunter cooed. “What do you need?” 

His fingers worked their way in and out while his thumb circled your clit. Your core lit up and your hips chased the motion. You couldn’t stop it, even if you tried, and this time, he didn’t ease you back down with a steady hand. He let you grind against him, hunting that sensation only he provided as his hard desire pressed against your abdomen. 

“Need you,” you whined. You brought him down for another kiss, determined for him to devour every single one of your senses. 

“All in good time.” He curled his fingers and brushed that particular spot that had you panting and squeezing your eyes shut while his other hand prowled up and down your body in slow, deliberate caresses. His kisses turned feverish before his teeth nibbled at your throat and a rumble purred in his own. 

He could smell you, you realised, the scent of your pleasure only heightening his own desire to sink into you. 

The hunger within you built as he quickened his pace and your climax thundered ever closer. “Hunter, I…” you breathed. “I’m so…”

“Can feel it,” he practically growled into your neck as your pussy clutched onto him, the tip of his nose brushing yours with every thrust of his fingers. “Let go. I’ve got you.” 

That was all you needed, those three words spoken with such security and tenderness, and the tightening coil in your core snapped. White hot seared through your veins and covered your body in pure bliss as he coaxed you through your high. As your pleasure reached its highest point, you gave a soft groan, your nails digging into his shoulders to ground you. 

Hunter kept you afloat, his movements inside you slowing. He hushed your whimpers and kissed the corner of your lips as you panted. “That’s my girl. You good?”

“Better than good,” you managed to get out. “Maybe I should practice knife throwing more often.” 

You smirked at the muffled vibration in Hunter’s throat as his eyes fluttered shut, and you could almost see the image of yourself wielding his knives imprinting on his mind. 

“Later,” he assured you. “We’re nowhere near done here yet.” 

I'm going to start a separate NSFW taglist since I know that it's not for everyone. If you would like to be added, feel free to send me a message.

[letsquestjess]

With absolutely zero context, and please don't ask, would you be interested in doing a good deed today? ❤️

Trust only in the force. 😉💕

[letsquestjess]

One, Two, Throw (Hunter x F!Reader)

Summary: You look incredible throwing Hunter's knives, and he decides to show you just how irresistible you are.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Smut! 18+! MDNI! Fingering. It's Hunter-is-horny hour!

A/N: This is my first time writing smut and I'm a little torn between feeling proud and wanting to hide in a corner. Anyways, if people enjoy it, I'm down for writing some more.

-- -- -- -- --

“There you go,” Hunter encouraged, his touch on your waist warm and reassuring. His breath ghosted your nape as he leaned close to your ear. “Concentrate on the target and visualise it landing where you want to hit. Feel the weight of the knife, the way it balances in your hand.”

“If there was an enemy in front of me, they’d have got me by now,” you chuckled, glancing over your shoulder to offer him a mischievous smirk. “I know what to do, we’ve been doing this for hours.” 

With an amused glimmer in the flinty brown of his eyes, he stepped back and signalled for you to proceed. He had to admit there was a certain charm to witnessing your determination. You had a particular look in your eyes, a fire that didn’t burn or destroy, but kindled the very core of who you were, and it brought him an indescribable joy.

You returned to the target as you shuffled your feet in the grit and lifted the weapon. Your stare lingered on the silhouette framed by the shrubbery of the back garden. Scratches and dints marred the pale outline, hitting almost every place other than the one you wanted. You’d even managed to land a strike on the groin, which had earned you an instinctive wince from the sergeant. 

“Don’t strangle the knife,” Hunter cautioned as you were about to make your shot. “It needs to move.” 

Coughing pointedly, you rolled your shoulders. Hilt over blade, it rotated and revolved until lodging itself into the wood inches from your intended destination with a deliberate twang. You let out an irritated huff. 

“Keep trying,” Hunter said. “You’re getting better.”

“Seems like I’m getting worse.”

“You trust me, don’t you?” 

As you recovered the knife, you granted him a firm nod and a warm grin.

Again and again you tried, each attempt glancing off the edge or striking a non-fatal spot. It felt as though you would never take it down. Despite any doubts, Hunter’s constant reassurances kept your confidence from faltering. 

He asked a couple of times if you wanted to stop, but you adamantly refused. After all, you had suggested this to experience his world before he chose to settle down, and you were starting to understand him more. 

He rarely spoke about the hardships he and his brothers faced during the war or the difficulties he encountered after Order 66. As curious as you were, you didn’t want to pry. Although you had been dating for over a year, you understood that lightly encouraging him to talk was more effective than poking at his past. 

Hunter observed you with the intensity of a hawk, studying your posture, your fortitude, your concentration. By the stars, you looked amazing with a vibroblade in your grasp, staring down that wooden silhouette. Every time you squared your stance and locked onto your target, a flood of adrenaline travelled up his spine and exploded with anticipation as you unleashed your shot. In his ravenous gaze, you were magnificent. 

Sneaking closer, he inched his hands over your waist as you readied yourself for your next attempt. His lips swept behind your ear, planting a trail of kisses on your exposed skin. 

“Want to offer more tips?” you asked. 

He shook his head against your neck and continued his ministrations.

“I see, you’re trying to throw me off,” you figured. 

“In dangerous situations, there will always be distractions,” Hunter reasoned, his hips pressing into your rear and his enjoyment of the situation immediately becoming apparent. “You need to be able to block them out.” 

“Oh, so the enemy will be getting up close and personal.” You gave him a tantalising, raised eyebrow, almost bordering on mean, the sultry lilt in your tone even more so. “Is that what you meant, sergeant?” 

As if in a blur, he swiftly disarmed you, snatching the knife from your grasp and launching it. The vibroblade quivered in the chest of the wooden target.

Before you could catch your breath, he twirled you round and lifted you up, balancing you in his arms and latching his lips onto yours as he strode with purpose back into the cottage.  

Your hands found purchase in his hair as he nudged open the bedroom door and lay you down on the bed.

“Such a tease,” he murmured, breaths intermingling between kisses.

His mouth moved slow and deep, savouring the scent of you and your mounting arousal as his tongue explored your lower lip and slid inside. Tasting him like this had you tilting your hips, and he let out a low chuckle as he guided them back onto the fluffy bedspread.

“Hunter,” you groaned. 

“Do you have any idea how good you look with a knife in your hands? Never seen anything so tempting.” 

When you searched his eyes, you found nothing but pure devotion in them, an unyielding desire to be by your side for as long as time allowed. 

“You never gave up,” he continued, undressing you languidly and lavishing any stretch of skin he exposed. “I’m proud of you. You stood there, determined. Fucking incredible.” 

His kisses grew hungry as he finished unclothing you and discarded his own clothes, throwing them behind him with reckless abandon. He’d clean them up later. For now, all he craved was you. 

You smoothed his dark waves from in front of his face as he climbed back up to your lips. He slid his fingers between your breasts, massaging and playing with each in turn before he trailed lower. To say he was skilled with his hands would be an understatement; his caresses were gentle yet firm, creating masterpieces of bliss on your skin. With every inch of contact, your breath caught in your throat, a soldier’s hands but a loving touch, and a silent ‘I love you’ lingering within. 

Need gripped you and your nails dragged down the ridges of his chest and abdomen, lifting your hips to get him to explore the one place that ached for his talents. This time, he skipped the teasing and dipped a finger into the wetness between your legs, finding his way to your clit. With each circle he traced, he delighted in the enticing sounds you made, grinning mischievously as you pulled away to gasp, your head pressed against the pillows. 

When he gently slipped a finger inside you, your whimpers became moans. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold back from begging him for more, but you did your best. You knew how he loved making you feel good and working you up for him, and you wanted to let him have this. 

Hunter soothed the dip of your brow with a tender press of his lips, gazing at you as though you provided him with the air he breathed. He’d never tire of seeing you like this, sweat dappling your skin, body lifting and falling with each wave of pleasure. He craved to etch this view behind his eyelids to look at whenever he closed his eyes. “That’s it,” he whispered, spurring your rising bliss with another finger. 

“I need…” You swallowed and released a purposeful breath. 

“Tell me, sweetest,” Hunter cooed. “What do you need?” 

His fingers worked their way in and out while his thumb circled your clit. Your core lit up and your hips chased the motion. You couldn’t stop it, even if you tried, and this time, he didn’t ease you back down with a steady hand. He let you grind against him, hunting that sensation only he provided as his hard desire pressed against your abdomen. 

“Need you,” you whined. You brought him down for another kiss, determined for him to devour every single one of your senses. 

“All in good time.” He curled his fingers and brushed that particular spot that had you panting and squeezing your eyes shut while his other hand prowled up and down your body in slow, deliberate caresses. His kisses turned feverish before his teeth nibbled at your throat and a rumble purred in his own. 

He could smell you, you realised, the scent of your pleasure only heightening his own desire to sink into you. 

The hunger within you built as he quickened his pace and your climax thundered ever closer. “Hunter, I…” you breathed. “I’m so…”

“Can feel it,” he practically growled into your neck as your pussy clutched onto him, the tip of his nose brushing yours with every thrust of his fingers. “Let go. I’ve got you.” 

That was all you needed, those three words spoken with such security and tenderness, and the tightening coil in your core snapped. White hot seared through your veins and covered your body in pure bliss as he coaxed you through your high. As your pleasure reached its highest point, you gave a soft groan, your nails digging into his shoulders to ground you. 

Hunter kept you afloat, his movements inside you slowing. He hushed your whimpers and kissed the corner of your lips as you panted. “That’s my girl. You good?”

“Better than good,” you managed to get out. “Maybe I should practice knife throwing more often.” 

You smirked at the muffled vibration in Hunter’s throat as his eyes fluttered shut, and you could almost see the image of yourself wielding his knives imprinting on his mind. 

“Later,” he assured you. “We’re nowhere near done here yet.” 

I'm going to start a separate NSFW taglist since I know that it's not for everyone. If you would like to be added, feel free to send me a message.

[letsquestjess]

Yo, anyone remember the bionic hand Hot Toys mysteriously gave Echo?

And all the rumors that he'd be getting one in Season 2, which never panned out?

And the brand new musical score that cut in when he reappeared last episode?

And the repeated references to his offscreen adventures with Rex?

I'm calling it now. We're getting a Clone Rebellion series, and he's going to be in it.

[letsquestjess]

New covers for Arc One and Tales from the Starlight Path!

[letsquestjess]

Alright alright alright! ;)

Whatcha workin on, fic-wise?

What are you excited about, and what may be causing some trouble?

Hello Free!!! Thank you for the ask! 😊

On the fic front, I have quite a bit in the pipeline and oh how I wish there were more hours in the day. I’ve got a Wolffe x Reader fic that has been waiting patiently to be written since last year (whoops), a handful of Blood Daughter shorts I need to get done, and a few Bad Batch x Reader ideas.

What I’m most excited about at the minute though is the Crosshair x Eudora (OC) fic I’m currently working on called It Never Rains. I have the first four chapters drafted, but what I’ve really had trouble with is finding the right balance for Eudora’s backstory. Coming from a family of healers, she has the ability to save lives and also end them in quite discreet ways. It got to the point where a lot of it felt crammed in and I ended up removing big chunks of it to flesh out other parts of her backstory that directly impacts on who she is and what her motivations are at that point in the story like the conflict between her brothers, the role she played in rebelling against the Separatists, and healing the clones who got trapped on her homeworld during the war. It’s a lot of work but a lot of fun, and I can’t wait to start posting it 💜