#bad enough they just left out Crosshair ENTIRELY

[im-no-jedi]

I have to share this, it’s a video highlighting the members of TBB (minus Crosshair 😒), and the narration is absolutely hilarious, it’s giving me Troom Troom vibes ROFL 😂😂😂

[tangents-within-tangents]

Hot take:

Crosshair does not have the Imperial disillusionment and redemption arc of The Bad Batch

Emerie does.

Crosshair has an arc for sure yes but it's not that.

I was thinking about this scene:

and how it got right what this scene kinda didn't:

(It was so close but then bad writing decided to undercut the moment with a joke rip)

And I think it's really interesting that these characters who were more or less raised into the Empire/First Order and chose to leave it are all directly asked why.

But take a look at Crosshair's answers in comparison:

Different context for the asking, yes, but still, compare that to clones like Howzer, Cody, Slip and Cade who left or turned against the Empire because they knew what the Empire is doing is wrong and they weren't just going to blindly follow orders:

Crosshair - Loyalty, Purpose, and Survival

Crosshair didn't choose to join the Empire (though the show isn't very clear or consistent about how much control the inhibitor chips have) but he did, for whatever reason, choose to stay. By the end of S1 we know his chip has been removed and as he definitively says "This is who I am." There were likely still other influences on his decision, but listen to how he talks about the Empire in the S1 finale:

Hunter: Crosshair, I've seen what the Empire is doing. Occupying planets and silencing anyone who stands against them. You know it's not right. Crosshair: You still don’t see the bigger picture, but you will. Hunter: Can't you see they're using you?

Crosshair: We’re not like the regs, we never have been. We’re superior. The Empire can’t protect the galaxy without strength, this is what we were made for. Think of all we could do, together!

Crosshair: You all are meant for more than drifting through the galaxy. It’s time to stop running. Join the Empire, and you will have purpose again.

Hunter: They destroyed an entire city! Crosshair: They did what needed to be done. Kamino, regs, the Republic, that time is over. The Empire will control the entire galaxy, and I am going to be a part of it. Hunter: Don't fool yourself. All you'll ever be to them is a number.

He undeniably knows what the Empire is doing, but he does not care. In fact it sure sounds like he actually supports it and finds self-meaning in it. Hunter spends those episodes trying to convince him it's wrong, he doesn't change his mind. In the end they offer him an out and he doesn't take it.

Wrecker: You coming with us? Crosshair: None of this changes anything. Hunter: You offered us a chance, Crosshair. This is yours. Crosshair: I made my decision.

The next we see Crosshair in "The Solitary Clone" (S2:E3) he follows orders and shoots the Desix governor, right after Cody heartbreakingly tries to do what's right and find a peaceful solution.

Cody: Tell me something, Crosshair. This new Empire, are we making the galaxy better? Crosshair: We’re soldiers, we do what needs to be done. Cody: You know what makes us different from battle droids? We make our own decisions, our own choices. And we have to live with them too.

After this (glorious!) conversation, Crosshair stays. Maybe this began to seed some doubts, but he actually smiles a few scenes later when Rampart assigns him another mission. It seems like for him it truly is as he said in S1:E1 (chip not enhanced yet but still influencing him enough for his brothers to notice he's acting strange):

Crosshair: Republic, Empire... what's the difference.

Crosshair: Orders are orders.

This unethical mission that finally pushed Cody over the edge does not change Crosshair's mind about the Empire, at least not enough for him to take action.

But what does?

Mayday: And here we are, the survivors. Combat troopers stuck babysitting cargo shipments. Crosshair: Mission’s a mission. Mayday: Yeah, I used to say the same thing.

Mayday: After all the clones have done, all we’ve sacrificed. We’re good soldiers, we followed orders. And for what?

This mission has nothing to do with how the fascist Empire treats the galaxy, it's about how they treat their soldiers. It's about how Mayday loyally fought and served his whole life and Lieutenant Nolan let him die

Lt Nolan: He served his purpose as a soldier of the Empire. Crosshair: You could have saved him! Lt Nolan: Perhaps you didn’t hear me, he is expendable, as are you.

Crosshair thought he could find purpose within the Empire, and Nolan shows him exactly what that will be.

His turning point is accompanied with this powerful visual of the ice vulture, a symbol (and threat) of death, and also set up within the episode a symbol of survival:

Mayday: Vicious creatures, but you have to admire ‘em. They find a way to survive.

This critical moment (that gives me chills, oof this episode is a masterpiece!) comes right after Nolan calls him expendable and directly threatens him:

Lt Nolan: And if you speak to me again with such disrespect I'll see to it you meet a similar fate, clone.

then Crosshair sees the vulture's shadow and turns to Mayday's dead body (ahh visual storytelling my beloved) then makes his decision:

Crosshair turns against the Empire not because he believes Hunter was right about this:

Hunter: I've seen what the Empire is doing ... You know it's not right.

but because he was right about this:

Hunter: All you'll ever be to them is a number.

Redemption (both in fiction and irl in my humble opinion) comes with making amends and reparations (which is why death 'redemptions' bother me so much but that's a rant for another time). Unlike Emerie, Crosshair never explicitly denounces the Empire or his own actions within it. He never says anything to specifically show if and how his views have changed from what he said on Kamino. He makes amends with his family (sending the warning message, helping Omega escape, making up with Hunter) but that's about it. The most we get in terms of acknowledgement is this:

Crosshair: I thought I knew what I was getting into with the Empire. I thought I was being a good soldier. Hunter: Nobody really understood what was happening back then. Crosshair: I’ve... done things. I’ve made mistakes. Hunter: I have regrets too, Crosshair. All we can do is keep trying to be better, and who knows there just might be hope for us yet.

Which is nice and all but it's more about them making up as brothers so it's way too excusing tbh ("no one knew what was happening back then" ummm? "The Empire will control the entire galaxy, and I am going to be a part of it" remember? And even if at first Crosshair was being controlled by the chip, the fact that he chose to stay after it was removed* means he condones and is therefore still accountable for those actions).

There's also a bit of self-destructive guilt:

Crosshair: Omega, don't risk anything for me. I belong in here.

Crosshair: Omega needs you both. So I’m doing this alone, it’s what I deserve. Hunter: Don’t even think about plan 99, Crosshair. Omega needs all of us.

(which thank you Hunter for pushing back on the death redemption bs and oh look is that a wrap up for the purpose thing?)

But there's no action taken on his part to make up for what he's done or to stand against the Empire (aside from the bare minimum of help with Tantiss, only after it became personally relevant, which like yeah he had trauma to deal with but still).

While I do think the implications/follow-up of Crosshair's turn should have been handled better in S3 (like rip Howzer! he deserved an apology, but that's a rant for another time), I don't necessarily** think this arc is a bad writing choice. It's just saying different things than we expect:

Maybe Crosshair's story is not about standing up against an unjust system, like we see with many other characters (who deserved more screen time but that's a rant for another timeeee). Maybe his story is about how even those who are loyal to the Empire, who actually believe in it, still suffer under and within it's rule. Not to garner sympathy, but to show that there is no winning.

Crosshair has another 'so what changed' convo in S3:E14 with Rampart, in which they draw parallels to each other:

Rampart: You used to believe good soldiers followed orders. Crosshair: Depends on who's giving them. The Empire betrayed us both. Rampart: And you think you can fight them? That's not you. You're like me, loyal to no one but yourself. Crosshair: I've changed.

(note how he says who's giving the orders, not what the orders are)

"Loyal to no one but yourself" describes Rampart much more than Crosshair, since we often saw Crosshair pride himself as a loyal soldier of the Empire whereas we saw Rampart abuse power to be self-serving within the Empire (like when he killed Wilco to save face). But they were both betrayed either way. Vice Admiral Rampart, snively Imperial opportunist through-and-through, shouts "I was following orders!" as he is arrested for the Empire's purposes. (Edit: and where Crosshair rejected the Empire and found new purpose fighting for his family, Rampart was still self-serving in the finale. He still tries to gain power for himself and he gets his comeuppance).

Even Hemlock, the final boss immoral Imperial scientist, who has to be benefiting the most from this system, echoes the expendability idea:

Hemlock: What I am working on is beyond your understanding. Something so vital to the Empire it makes me indispensable.

Then there's CX-2, also set up as a parallel/foil to Crosshair (fight me), who in the end is discarded as no more than a weapon, a tool that served it's purpose, showing us what would have become of Crosshair if he had stayed.

There is no winning in the Empire. Loyalty is not rewarded, it "doesn't go both ways." Everyone has to fight for their value. Even high ranking individuals** who for a time benefit from the injustice, in the end are just pawns to be used up and cast aside at a whim for the Emperor's gain. Even people who are motivated by self-interest alone cannot survive within this system, the only viable option in this galaxy is to fight the Empire and dismantle that system. (unless you conveniently find a magically safe island to hide away on but that's a rAnT fOr AnOtHeR tImE)

Which brings us back to...

Emerie - Cooperation, Compassion, and Choice

(Okay this post has already gotten away from me but I still want to talk about her to show the contrasts.)

Emerie may not have been given a lot of screen time to really flesh out her development, but there is a lot that is pretty clearly implied with her:

Crosshair: They’ll never turn her [Omega] over. Hemlock: They don’t have a choice. She is a clone, and therefore Imperial property. *Camera cuts to an angle more centered on Emerie’s face*

Crosshair: Give me your access card! Emerie: It won’t get you outside!

Emerie: I tried to warn him what would happen if he did not cooperate with the Doctor.

Emerie: Prisoner? Omega, you are no such thing. It will take time to adjust, but you will acclimate. It is far safer in here than out there.

Emerie: You should go back to your room. Crosshair: You mean her cell?

Emerie: Why children? Hemlock: Children are easier to attain and more agreeable to the subjugations. They are unaware of why they are here and what they possess.

Emerie: They're children. Like I was... Was your plan to discard them too? Nala Se: The Empire will keep them in order to control them.

We don't know a lot about Emerie's background, but it's clear that she had a lot less choice than Crosshair and less opportunity or ability to leave. Unlike Crosshair, we never directly hear Emerie's views of the Empire (and she was most likely 'taken under Hemlock's wing' before the Empire even came to power), but lets look at how she talks about the Tantiss:

"Remain calm. Cooperate and you might survive."

"Don't make this worse, Crosshair! There is no escape!"

"All of us serve a purpose here."

"The Doctor will inform me, if it's necessary."

"It's best not to ask questions."

"Escape is not possible, Omega. This is for your own good."

She honestly does the best she can within the system she is also trapped in. She tries to help Crosshair, Omega, and the vault kids in the only way she knows how (warns Crosshair about the hounds and security, tries to protect Omega from Hemlock, tells Scorch his "actions were extreme" with Jax, insists on overseeing Bayrn's retrieval, double checks his m-count (to give him an out), and tries to find out where he came from). When she gives Omega, and later Eva, the doll, I think it shows just how little she really is able to do here (and it's kinda heartbreaking imo).

The framing of this shot especially (after Jax's escape attempt) visually shows how Emerie herself is trapped/imprisoned:

Despite the fact that very little of this is Emerie's fault, she has very little power and she is doing all she can, the narrative does not excuse her role in the Empire:

Nala Se: What will you do, Emerie? Emerie: There is nothing I can do. I don't have that kind of power. Nala Se: Don't you?

Emerie: I- I was doing my job. Echo: Yeah, I’ve heard that before. You’re a clone. How can you be part of this?

These fighting-the-Bystander-Effect conversations parallel these exchanges:

Hunter: We made a choice, and so did you. Crosshair: Soldiers follow orders. Hunter: Blind allegiance makes you a pawn.

Crosshair: We’re soldiers, we do what needs to be done. Cody: You know what makes us different from battle droids? We make our own decisions, our own choices. And we have to live with them too.

which did not change Crosshair's mind. And honestly, all respect to Echo's disappointed mom glare™ but I think it's clear Emerie had already made her decision, she just needed help to actually be able to do anything about it. When she stopped Echo, with her voice wavering on the verge of tears (ahhh v good voice acting), she clearly had no intention of turning him in. She's on her own in the Empire's most secure facility with very little resources, if she had tried anything on her own she most likely would have failed and been killed

Omega: Emerie, you don't have to do this. Emerie: (sigh) I’m sorry, but I do.

but as soon as she is enabled by an ally, she immediately turns around to help: giving information and getting Echo through security, helping the kids escape, and giving Omega the tablet that allows them to free the other clone prisoners.

Where Crosshair's turn is accompanied by the symbolic imagery of the ice vulture, Emerie's is the removal of her (literally rose-tinted!) glasses:

Symbolizing how she has shed her previous views/indoctrination that altered her perception of the Empire and blinded her to it's wrongs. It's disillusionment.

Emerie's story shows us that even those who are raised and indoctrinated into this system can, should, and will escape (with needed help). Even those who did not choose to be apart of the Empire and are not making the decisions still have the responsibility and ability to act on what they know is right.

Emerie, whose name means 'Home strength' 'Brave' and 'Powerful', and "reflects the importance of leadership and authority in the workplace".***

While Emerie is only in one more scene after her turn, so the wrap up is a bit rushed, she still very simply does what Crosshair does not:

Emerie: Because I was wrong about this place. And I'm trying to do the right thing.

Echo: I’m sure Senator Chuchi would find what you have to say very helpful for our cause. Emerie: I have a lot to make up for. I’d like to help out however I can.

She admits wrong, takes accountability, commits to making amends, and leaves with Echo to go take on the Empire (which hopefully we will get to actually see more of some day).

So, in short, she's showing us how redemption is done right!

---

Notes:

*Whether this writing choice was good/logical/in-character or not is another discussion entirely, but I'm going off of what we were given, what the show is presenting in the canon text and (reasonably inferred/intentional) subtext. Crosshair is pretty multifaceted and I could only touch on so much here. There's a lot of ways to interpret his character/choices, but I tried to avoid the realm of speculation or fanon explanations (even if they sometimes make more sense lol).

**History and political theory are not my area of expertise at all, so I have NO idea how well this aligns with real-world fascism stuff and therefore what implications this storytelling choice could have. I think the message of like 'if you think you could survive or gain power by doing what the Empire/fascist system wants you are wrong' could be good (like how everyone is actually harmed by the patriarchy type of a thing), but I hesitate bc maybe there are those who would benefit, since it's a hierarchal system, right? If anyone more knowledgeable than me has incite to share, by all means

Either way, I do think it works in-story and in-universe though. It's just in the execution. The main problem (even from a strictly theme/character arc stand point) is the lacking follow-up/consequences for Crosshair in S3. Like you gave your character accountability by removing the chip and I think that's great setup for an arc but you gotta follow through with that and actually hold him accountable!

***I'm always curious when clones have 'normal' names, like why did they chose the name Emerie of all things? So I looked it up. Idk how reliable sources are for name meanings so take it with a grain of salt but it's still fun. Fits pretty well, and clones names have definitely had significant meanings in the past (like how Rex and Jesse both mean 'king') so I'm pretty sure it was intentional.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my tedtalk

[flight0fthenavigat0r]

A Goodbye to The Bad Batch

I don’t even know what to say first. Because this is goodbye, but it is also everything but. But I suppose I should start at the beginning.

Just a couple of years ago I found my love for Star Wars. My entire life, as far back as I can remember, my dad has tried to get me into the fandom. Now, he’s not a fan the exact same way some of us are, he’d only watched the saga and the Mandalorian, funnily enough I was the one to introduce him to The Clone Wars and beyond, but it’s been a joy in his life for a very long time. I was never interested in it when I was little, but then I got a little older and Star Wars started to capture my interest.

One random weekend, I believe in 2021 or 2022, I decided that I was going to watch all nine saga movies in those forty-eight hours, and then start on my goal to watch every show and the additional movies.

This is, without a shred of doubt, one of the greatest decisions I have ever made, and one that I will never regret. I would not be the person I am had I not given Star Wars a chance.

It would sound ridiculous to anyone anywhere else, but this has become such a safe place for me that I know I can be honest.

Everyone finds that one thing that makes them happy like nothing else. A person, a hobby, a place, a fandom. Mine is the galaxy far, far away that lets me escape from my life whenever I need to.

The Star Wars fandom has its faults, and there is so much hatred.

But more than anything, there is love like no love I have ever experienced before. The love between fans and our love for these movies and shows is something I never expected to have in my life. But somehow, for some reason, it has all found a permanent place in my heart, and I couldn’t be happier.

At this time, the first season of The Bad Batch had just been released. I was branching out, watching The Clone Wars and then jumping to The Book of Boba Fett, though I’m not sure why I chose to watch everything in such a completely random order.

But then I started The Bad Batch.

I had no idea what Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, Echo, and Omega would come to mean to me.

I have dealt with a lot in the last few years. Nothing compared to others, but depression finds a way to wedge into your life. I love to be alone, but I don’t like to be lonely, and I have managed to isolate myself to a point of misery.

I found more comfort in The Bad Batch than anything else in my life, and I will never forget the joy The Bad Batch brought me in these last few years.

I began to write when I found Star Wars, and I was inspired to do so by The Bad Batch. Before, I had never felt so compelled by any one piece of media to add my own part of it to the world, until this. Writing has become another escape, one that gives me an outlet to continue the stories of characters left behind.

What I already knew has been reaffirmed, the lessons I have learned remain with me, and will even after this is over.

That it’s okay to feel afraid, because everyone does, and to make mistakes, provided you learn from them.

That feeling out of place for one reason or another does not make you unworthy of love, and having limitations with affection isn’t something you need to apologize for.

That being goofy, having fun, finding joy in the dark places, is just as vital a part of life as anything else, if not what we need more than anything.

That taking time for yourself, to make sure you don’t fall apart, even while taking care of others, is important.

That our worst moments can be one of two things, what consumes us, or what we grow from.

That being a young woman is not a detriment to your worth, intelligence, talent, or any other aspect of life, but is in fact what makes you strongest.

That what makes us unique and our faults are a part of who we are, but they do not define us, and we are so much more than the ideas people have of us.

My only regret is not making friends when I had the chance. I’m bad at that, opening up and putting myself out there, and I shy away from talking to new people because it makes me uncomfortable. But I wish I had been able to put that aside before it was too late and found people who love The Bad Batch the way I do to continue talking to, even after the show ends.

But to all the people who have supported me and who I have supported, thank you for being part of my Bad Batch experience.

It's very difficult to believe that this is it.

Though The Bad Batch has not been around long, it feels like it has, because as long as I have been watching Star Wars, The Bad Batch has been in its active run, and I’m so grateful I got to be here when it was.

I know that even when the credits roll for the final time, when the greater fandom forgets the show that they never really understood the way we have, I’ll be here, and hopefully, so will all of you. I think that the family brought together by The Bad Batch will endure, even if we go quiet for a while.

We’ll stick around, for the day the Batch comes back. Because I know they will.

Thank you Clone Force 99, the Bad Batch fandom, Dee Bradley Baker, Michelle Ang, the Kiners, and everybody who played a part in telling this story.

The impact The Bad Batch has had on my life has been profound, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. It’s been a wild ride, and I have enjoyed every second of it. It has been a privilege to be a part of this piece in the ever growing history that makes up Star Wars.

Goodbye, Bad Batch. Until next time.

“Change takes getting used to. You’ll see. Just give it time.”

[niobiumao3]

So like...

I really did NOT like Phee being absent for the Pabu invasion, that felt so fucking not great :( And so much of these episodes was SO GOOD.

Cross and Omega's argument! Pheeeeee my beloved!! Wrecker saving Gonky (called it on he saw the charges, grabbed Gonky and RAN).

But here's the thing, the Tech Tells on CX-2 are VERY strong at this point, except, we have 4 entire episodes in which to reveal how he became a Clone X when Crosshair didn't while ALSO not apparently remembering anything (Soap Opera Amnesia from the fall? Conditioning so bad his brain broke? did he make himself forget??) and then to reveal him AND fix this.

I don't see how that is getting done in 4 episodes in any GOOD way, one of which at a minimum involves the Juggernaut heist. In my estimation that's not enough narrative space to do this except Super Mario speedrun memory hacks with frame placement style stuff ala the power of Omega's love and like, that is simply not a compelling plot to me. Maybe they can pull it off, I dunno. It worked with Cross because it was spread over 5 months of in-story time, and we SAW the development in an entire episode dedicated to that. Are we getting that here? I just doubt that.

At least a couple casual viewers have commented it doesn't seem likely CX-2 is Tech now because, yeah, 4 episodes left and how does he not know anything? Amnesia so he forgets and has to remember? This is a classically disLIKED plot point from soap operas. So from a not-obsessively-examining-the-man's-every-motion POV it seems less likely, not more, due to the season rollout and current status heading into the back third.

From my POV, I feel like the tells are SO heavy. Placements on Pabu, 'domiciles', etc. But the show's writing is so very Occam's Razor that I don't see how Clone X Tech behaving like this makes literally ANY sense aside from a narrative which is a pale echo of Crosshair's merged onto an amnesia plot and and then cut brutally short.

The reviewer reactions DEFINITELY sounded like we get a Tech reveal somewhere in 10-14, for sure. Just, not clear on what kind.

But man I don't want Shifty Thrifting Crosshair Arc: Tech Version. Just. Do Not Want. Here's hoping they have found some way to do it well/right, if that's indeed where this goes.

My personal prefs are:

Tech is actually IN one of those CX conditioning pods, refusing to submit, clinging to his sanity

Tech is the partial-success m-count transfer subject and was such a problem Hemlock put him in isolation, having realized he made a huge mistake in giving this man even a LITTLE additional Force sensitivity

Tech will pop up out of the ground ala Gandalf in 12-14.

[crosshairlovebot]

falling for mr. batchbury (part two) / hunter x f!reader

pairing: hunter x f!reader

description: your long-awaited reunion with mr. batchbury has finally come, and so do you.

REGENCY AU

word count: 8,107

warnings: NSFW 18+ explicit sexual content. loss of vriginity (f). p in v s*x. oral s*x (f receiving). lots of kissing. handj*bs. biting. unprotected s*x. cr*ampie. outdoor s*x. partly clothed s*x. religious comparions.

thank you so much for your support on part one.!! the regency hunter/bad batch art that has come from this has been amazing to see i love it so much!! i got v carried away but i enjoyed writing this sm, so i hope you enjoy reading it <3

also posted on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

PART TWO

According to his letters, Mr. Hugo Batchbury earned the nickname “Hunter” due to his uncanny ability to seek out enemy ships and find hidden encampments during the war. You had always known his senses to be more attuned than a normal person, so it seemed fitting for him. And it was why you ventured into your estate’s gardens, knowing he’d be able to find you with ease.

You hurried down the stone steps, lifting the skirt of your gown so you wouldn’t trip as you left the din of the ball behind you. 

The ball had been to celebrate your father’s return from war. Of course, that meant the Batchbury Brothers had also returned, each with a nickname of their own. William had come to be known as ‘Wrecker’ due to his enthusiasm with the ship's cannons. Thomas became ‘Tech’ as his knowledge of engineering and other contraptions was second to none. Carlisle’s superior aim with a pistol had bestowed him with the name ‘Crosshair’. You had read it all in Mr. Batchbury’s letters, which were frequent enough that missing him was only agonising, not excruciating. 

In the years that passed while they were at sea, writing was the only comfort you had – and knowing they served under your father who was a master at his profession. Your heart raced when the footman brought in the post and there was a letter from Mr. Batchbury. Usually, he would write two – one for you and one for Meg. 

His letters to you varied, sometimes they told you of what he’d been doing, sometimes they held a tale from the decks of the ship, some mischief played as they rode the waves. But each contained his voice through written script, the words of the sentences so familiar you could hear them in his voice as you read. 

You fell more in love with him through his letters, and he with you. Each one he sent would always detail his love for you, his eagerness to come home and love you at a nearer distance, his wish to marry you when he returned. It all sent thrills and pangs through you.

My thoughts of you only seem to increase the longer we are apart, he’d once written. My sketchbook has run out of pages, and until I can find a new one to fill, I draw your face in my dreams.

Your entire being longed to be with him.

You would write to him too, but the time between letters being sent and arriving for both of you seemed to grow more extensive as the months and years went on. 

What was it they said, absence makes the heart grow fonder? Well, your heart's fondness for Mr. Batchbury was so strong it ached. You even requested he send you a self-portrait, just so you could see him face. He’d given it in his next letter – his face so beautifully etched in charcoal, his brow strong over intense black circles of eyes, the curve of his jaw shaded with his birthmark. You had to be careful you didn’t drop tears on it when you gazed upon it.

Meg missed him too – she missed all her brothers dearly, and she followed the papers diligently for news, thrumming with excitement when she received a letter from any of them. She had grown so much in the years that had past. Now eighteen, she had matured into a young lady; she was kind, compassionate and amiable. She was as tall as her brothers and seemed to have absorbed all their best traits too, even if they were far away. 

You had been with her as she watched from the window, waiting for their carriage to arrive the afternoon just gone. She bounced on her toes in excitement while you sat on the lounge nearby, just as excited but simultaneously so anxious to see Mr. Batchbury you felt like you might be ill.

What if he saw you and you were not as he remembered? Or what if he saw you and his feelings for you were merely spurred by distance, and now were non-existent? You knew his heart to be mountainous, but mountains did fall victim to erosion when weathered by strong winds.

When you heard Meg squeal, you had jumped from your thoughts. “They’re here! They’re back! They’re here!”

She raced from the room, and you gaped for a moment before following her, your footsteps just as quick. Despite your anxieties, you were still desperate to see him.

And you father, too. You couldn’t forget about him.

You followed her outside and watched as Meg skidded to a stop as the carriage slowed and the horses stilled. The carriage door was thrown open as William– Wrecker emerged. You knew it was him from his build. He guffawed as he wrapped his arms around Meg, lifting her up and spinning her. You heard Meg laugh as you approached. 

You realised Wrecker now sported an impressive scar from his ear and across one side of his face, an eye patch covering one eye, his head completely shaved. The other brothers filed out of the carriage, Thomas– Tech had a limp and now held a cane on his left side, Carlisle– Crosshair had a burn scar on one side of his head, the same side as the smattering of port wine that splashed over his right eye. He also had a wooden attachment on one hand to replace one he had evidently lost. 

They each had been changed by their time at war, but they still gathered Meg into their arms, their love for their sister eternal.

Your breath hitched when you saw Mr. Batchbury– Hunter move down the carriage steps, his boots crunching on the gravel. 

His hair was longer, and the bandana had changed from bright red to a rich colour that matched his port wine birthmark, but apart from that it was as if no time had passed. How was it possible he looked exactly the same? In fact, he looked even more handsome, as if the time spent in the sea air had not weathered him, but ripened his beauty.

You watched as he held his arms out for Meg, who jumped into them. He smiled into her neck, arms wrapping around her tightly, squeezing. You heard Meg begin to cry into her older brother’s shoulders, her own shaking. Your heart squeezed for her. 

Though her brothers were everything to her, there was something different about her bond with Hunter. He was more than her brother, he was her guardian too, the one she always turned to, the one who had taken her in and cared for her no questions asked. Hunter was Meg’s mountain, and being without him had been harder on her than she liked to admit. Hunter soothed her with gentle shushes, one of his hands running up and down her back. 

“It’s alright, Meg. I’m here now,” you heard him console her gently. “I’m not going anywhere ever again.” 

You felt your eyes sting with tears at the heartfelt reunion. They pulled away, and you watched Hunter wipe away his sister’s tears with the pad of his thumb, a smile matching his misty eyes. You watched his hands grab hers as he took a step back, seeing her stand at his height.

“You’re so big now,” his voice cracked.

Meg laughed lightly, wiping her eyes. “You missed a lot.”

“Too much.” Hunter shook his head. “Never again.”

“Never,” Meg agreed.

“Hey!” Wrecker’s loud voice boomed when he spotted you. “Look who it is!”

You held your breath as Hunter’s eyes landed on yours. You watched the way his eyes and shoulders softened, his mouth parted. You watched his mouth turn up at the side, and the stain on his cheek darken at the sight of you. It appeared his penchant to flush at the sight of you had not changed either.

You flushed. Why had you even been worried again?

You cleared you throat and took a step forward. “The Batchbury Brothers have returned.”

“You bet!” Wrecker cheered. “And in one piece!”

“Speak for yourself,” Crosshair sneered, his remaining hand gripping the wrist of his prosthetic.

“We are, mostly, unharmed,” Tech adjusted his glasses with his free hand. “Hunter is the only one of us to remain unscathed.”

Hunter sighed and shook his head. “We all survived. That’s what matters.”

“And we’re rich!” Wrecker laughed proudly.

“I heard about your acquisition of prizemoney,” you said. “Congratulations. It is a great accomplishment for you all.”

“It gives us many opportunities now,” Hunter said carefully, meeting your eyes knowingly. You felt your heartbeat pick up.

Did he…mean…?

You felt your expression lift as you gazed at him hopefully, and you watched his birthmark darken again as he smiled softly at you. The smile conveyed all the love he held for you, steadfast and immovable even after five years, even through a war. Your heart squeezed and you felt as though you might faint.

He did mean that.

“Is my father on his way?” you inquired, slightly breathless as his words danced around your head, the realisation so fanciful it hardly seemed real.

Hunter nodded. “He said he had some paperwork to drop off in London, but he should arrive by this evening.”

“Wonderful,” you breathed, smiling at him with what you hoped conveyed the same amount of love, if not more. 

Now, under the cover of the moon and the ball long behind you, you raced through the maze to the centre of it; the very maze where your love for each other had blossomed. You were breathless, and you could feel the bones of your tight corset cutting into your ribs, but you didn’t care. 

He would be here soon.

“Hey,” you heard his smoky tenor from behind you. You whirled around to see him standing there, holding a lantern he had taken from the courtyard adjacent to the ballroom. Along with a grey waistcoat, he wore his newly tailored dresscoat, black with some red embroidery stitched into the cuffs and collar. His black boots glistened in the light of the moon, and in lieu of his bandana, he wore a red cravat instead.

He looked dashing.

“Mr. Batchbury,” you breathed as you took in the sight fo him.

How was it fair that he looked beautiful in all lights?

He chuckled. “Are we still using such formalities?”

You were unable to hide your smile. “What shall I call you then? ‘Hunter’?” you teased lightly.

You watched as he inhaled sharply, hands that were once relaxed now clenched. “Yes,” he rasped, his eyes never strayed from you. “Hunter is perfect.”

“Very well…Hunter,” you smiled. You liked the way it sounded on your tongue, and Hunter seemed to as well, returning a closed-mouth smile at you as he continued to gaze longingly at you. Your face felt hot as you fiddled with your fingers awkwardly. The moment of silence passed through you both. You looked at him before tittering nervously. Hunter cocked his head. 

“What is it?”

“All these years, I thought I would be gushing with things to say, but words have seemed to escape me,” you joked.

Hunter chuckled, a hearty sound, and walked towards you slowly with the lantern before setting it down on the stone bench beside you both. Now, in the dim orange glow, you were close enough to see those familiar brown-grey eyes, unchanged despite the time that passed. 

“It’s been a long time. Far too long,” he murmured, eyes travelling across your face like a caress. You swallowed, flustered by his attentions. 

You wished you were more articulate, but you had missed him so much, it was taking everything in you not to just kiss him, to instead prelude such a thing with pleasantries so it would not be so forward. It had been a long time, and you had only a few hours together where you knew of each others feelings before he left. This whole thing was unfamiliar territory for you. You knew how to be in love with him from afar, from across an ocean, but had no idea how to do it in such close proximity.

“You look well,” you said. It was a severe understatement.

“You look beautiful,” Hunter told you earnestly, his fingertips gently nudged your hands and you let them latch around yours. Your breath hitched as you felt his warm touch against your hands as he held them assuredly, his thumb drawing circles over the back of your hand. “My sketches and my memory did not do you justice.”

You felt butterflies take flight inside you. “I was worried about this part,” you breathed, too overwhelmed to think about the words that now seemed to fly out of you with no hesitation.

Hunter looked genuinely confused. “Why?”

You swallowed again and averted your eyes, focusing on the concrete next to you. “Because I hoped I would still be what you desired, after half a decade.”

Hunter tilted his head as he moved into your eyeline, forcing you to meet his eye as you both lifted your heads again. His brow was furrowed as he tried to understand. “How could you think I would no longer desire you? Did you not read my letters?”

“I did but…things can change,” you told him quietly.

Hunter’s frown deepened and he searched your face before he shook his head. He let go of one of your hands so he could cup the hinge of your jaw, the pad of his thumb gently caressing your cheekbone, his words quiet but sure. 

“Not this,” he told you. “Never this.”

Your heart squeezed. He was not real. He could not be. You loved him so much you thought you might collapse, knees buckling because of how much it consumed you. You leaned into his hand and closed your eyes, breathing in deeply at how nice it was to hear such a thing. To know his heart remained as mountainous as it was when he left. When you opened your eyes again, you saw his brow was drawn together, his lips pressed together. You needed them on yours desperately.

“No,” you agreed, breathless.

You tilted your chin up a little, gaze falling to his lips, a silent begging for him to kiss you. You watched his eyes move to your lips and his words came out as he stared at them.

“I have something…I need to ask you,” he said slowly, like he was nervous, like he was reciting words he had practised. You felt your whole body ignite. He met your eyes once again. “I suspect you know what it is?”

“Yes,” you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper in disbelief. You knew what he was going to ask, and yet you felt yourself thrum with anticipation for hearing the words out loud. “I waited,” you told him.

Hunter nodded, a mirthful smile on his face, like he could hardly believe it either. “You waited.”

You smiled and you both gazed at each other. The warm glow of the lamp lit the side of his face untouched by his birthmark, and the ballroom felt like it was on a different planet, it was so far away. Only the stars were your witnesses above you, glowing dots painting the sky. His hands were warm on you, tethering you to him. It was just the two of you, in the maze – where you both began, and evidently, would be where you continued to be together.

“Marry me.” His husky voice spoke in the space between you, and those two little words made your heartbeat race and your stomach flip over. “Please. I…adore you. It would be my greatest honour to be wed to you.”

Tears of joy stung your eyes, and you unleashed an unbridled smile that you did not dare hold back. You nodded your head quickly, eager to tell him your answer, which you need not take time to consider, you’d had five years after all.

“Yes,” you laughed. “Yes, I will marry you.”

You watched Hunter’s face light up, joy stretching his mouth wide and squishing part of his port wine stain into a triangle on his cheek. He laughed happily as he brought his other hand to your face and pulled you in for your first kiss in five years.

Your hands moved to clutch his lapels as you kissed him back. You had dreamed of kissing him again, and it felt surreal to finally be doing it. His mouth was still as hot, gentle and coaxing as you remember, and you felt yourself pressing into him as he slanted his mouth over yours. You couldn’t stop smiling though, your mouth tipping up involuntarily with your immeasurable happiness as you kissed him. In response, Hunter’s mouth did the same, chuckling before he pulled back. He shook his head and kissed you chastely before he spoke again.

“In the morning, we’ll find the vicar. I don’t want to wait,” he said, his voice hoarse but full of conviction. 

“Neither do I,” you agreed, watching the way the moon illuminated his curls.

“It’s been long enough. To be apart from you for any longer,” he pressed his forehead into yours. “It would be agony.”

“I cannot be without you another moment,” you told him before bringing his lips down to yours again. Hunter groaned as he kissed you, his hands travelling down towards your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You moved your hands to the nape of his neck, fisting the hair there. Hunter groaned again before he wrenched himself back, breathless. Apparently, he still had things to say. Could they not wait? You had struggled with words before, why did he want to say them now when there was kissing to do?

“Your father cannot disapprove of me.” he rushed out, like he was telling himself, reassuring himself. “I am no longer poor. He will let us marry.”

You smiled softly at him. All this doubt he had held, all these thoughts and apprehensions that had held him back before, they no longer existed. There was no war to fight, he was no longer destitute, Meg was well and he’d already set up a trust for her. His brothers were safe. And so was he. Everything had been taken care of. Hunter could finally allow himself to have something that he wanted. Something completely his own that did not require anyone’s opinion or approval. He had been a mountain for everyone, and now the storm had passed, the sun shone on his heart and there was no need to be worried about his family.

Though none of it had been a burden to him, Hunter could finally breathe, and he wanted to fill his lungs with you.

You brushed some hair off his forehead. “Even if he did disapprove, I would marry you anyway. I am yours, in whatever circumstance. I always have been.”

Hunter smiled, his expression soft and full of adoration. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you told him moments before Hunter brought his lips back to yours. 

Hunter wrapped his arms around you and made a soft sound as you pressed into him. You felt his mouth guide yours open, and you let him, trusting him implicitly as he gently moved his tongue against yours. 

You hadn’t kissed him like this before, but the hot wet of his mouth was obscenely wonderful and you were quickly obsessed with how it felt. You tried to stroke your tongue against his in the same motions and felt him moan into your mouth.

“Heavens above,” you felt him mumble as he dragged his mouth away from yours, moving it down your neck as he left open-mouthed kisses across your skin. You tilted your head back, mouth open as you caught your breath, overcome with the feel of his mouth on places you had only read about. You felt between your legs begin to get hot as you cradled his head to your neck, and when you felt him nip at your collarbone, you to let out a high-pitched cry. You were sure you were going to collapse any second. 

“Hunter…” you panted. 

Hunter moved across your collarbone, kissing the swallow of your neck as he did. His hands moved from your waist to hold your ass, his palms squeezing there. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you watched him move down towards the swell of your breast which spilled up the neckline of your gown, pressed by your corset. 

He kissed the crease between them. “My love, if you will permit me.”

“Do whatever you wish with me,” you hastened to say, desperate for him not to stop.

Hunter did not need to be told twice before he kissed along the neckline, the soft flesh of your breasts meeting his lips. You mewled as his tongue lulled out and licked, before his teeth sunk into them.

“Hunter!” you moaned, head falling back.

You felt his hot breath on your now wet skin. He pulled away with a groan. 

“My love, can I…can I please?” Hunter looked at you.

You blinked, trying to remember how to speak. “Can you what?”

“Can I feel you there? I fear I will perish if I do not,” he begged, eyes pleading like if you refused him, he might actually fall apart.

“I told you, do whatever you wish with me.”

A low sound came from the back of Hunter’s throat as he lowered to his knees in front of you. “Sit down on the bench.”

You followed his instruction and then he bunched up your gown before placing a hand between your legs. When you felt his fingers brush against your extremely wet folds, you whimpered and he groaned, a guttural sound that travelled right to your centre.

“Oh, Christ, you’re fucking drenched,” he rasped, moving his fingers against your seam. You panted, clutching his shoulder as pleasure travelled like lightning through your entire body. “And this is all for me.”

“All yours,” you whispered.

Hunter groaned again and pulled his fingers away. You whined at the loss of touch and then watched as he placed his fingers, wet with your slick, into his mouth. You whimpered as he moaned, his eyes closing as he tasted you.

“God, you’re heavenly.”

“Hunter,” you said breathlessly.

He wet his lips. “Can I taste more?”

“Stop asking and just do it,” you said quickly.

Hunter moved under your gown and you slid towards the edge of the bench a little more, hands gripping the stone as you felt his breath on your pussy. You cried out loudly when the flat of his tongue licked up your folds. The sensation was obscene and you felt like you were ascending when you felt his mouth move on you. You shuddered, indecent sounds coming from you as he licked and sucked, tongue moving across your most intimate part. You said his name like a chant as he moved his mouth and tongue expertly, his arms encircled your thighs, forefingers toying with the edge of your stocking, and you felt his moan vibrate against you. 

“Hunter,” you strangled out, the sensations moving through you taking away your ability to utter anything but his name.

He placed your knees over his shoulders and continued to move his mouth on you. Your grip on the stone bench tightened as you leaned back at a new angle, your nails digging into the grains of the rock as you panted, the pleasure blooming inside you so heavenly you could barely put words to it. 

Hunter’s tongue moved through your folds before he sucked on the small nub there. You jerked, yelping as he run his tongue over it, gently sucking as he continued to pull pleasure from you. You whined as he artfully moved his mouth over you. How was he so good at this? 

You had only read about such things in novels, the descriptions making you blush and tingle all at once as you imagined what it would be like to experience it. You had experimented on your own, of course, too curious to wait until Hunter had returned home to feel the pleasure the heroines felt in your novels. But nothing you did to yourself felt as good as this. 

You clenched your knees around his head and felt your body begin to shudder as the familiar coils of heat began to build in your stomach, but this time more intense than what you’d felt on your own. 

“Hunter,” you told him breathlessly, intending to say more but the words felt like they were floating in a mist above you, and every time you tried to grasp them, they alluded you. “I’m–”

You heard him groan under your skirts, voice muffled between your thighs and under the silks. “Let go.”

You felt his tongue flick that nub, his hands on your thighs tightening as he performed one last ministration that caused that pleasure to erupt from you. You cried out, hands clutching the bench so hard you thought there might be indents in the stone as you came apart on his tongue. Your legs shook and your chest heaved as you moaned and whined, head thrown back as Hunter’s tongue lapped at you. You weren’t sure if the stars above you were real, or ones he had made you see. 

As the pleasure waned and your body’s aftershocks slowed, you felt Hunter remove your legs from his shoulders and he fumbled with your skirts as he re-emerged. His curls were a mess, and the port wine stain on his cheek was flushed a deep purple from the heat of being under your skirts. He panted, his mouth glistening with your slick, but his eyes were bright, invigorated, like performing cunnilingus on you had energised him. He licked his lips and smiled lovingly at you.

“Amazing,” he told you, his tone awed. “Is that the first time you’ve come?”

You felt heat rise up your neck. “No.”

Hunter’s eyes widened in surprise. “No?”

“Well, I got very tired of waiting for you.” You shrugged innocently despite your face flaming. “I had to take matters into my own hands.”

“Christ,” he said, the words scratching out of his throat roughly. “Are you serious?”

You met his pleading eyes. “Yes.”

Hunter buried his head in your lap and groaned. “I can’t believe I had to stay away so long.”

“Never again.”

“Never again.” He leaned up and kissed you languidly, and you could taste yourself on his lips. 

He stayed kneeling on one knee between your legs, your skirts bunched up to your hips as he kissed you, his hands moving up your body back to your breasts. You gasped when his fingers curled around the neckline of your bodice, fingertips brushing the swell of your breast, skin burning. 

“Can I take this off?” He tugged on the edge of the neckline. “Please.”

“Yes. Yes, please,” you practically begged him. 

You felt his hands go to the ties at the back of your dress, and he deftly tugged them loose as he brought his mouth to yours again. You felt the fabric of your dress loosen before he retreated to pull the dress off from the front, moving it down your arms. You watched as Hunter rumpled the fabric and threw it to the side so it was out of the way. 

You were glad the night was warm, now that you were only in your corset over your chemise and stockings. You watched the garment fall to the ground as Hunter let out a growl of frustration.

“Why are there so many layers? I need more of your skin on my mouth,” he grumbled. You giggled as he started to unlace your corset.

“What is it they say? Patience is a virtue?”

“I’ve never been virtuous and I’m not about to start now,” Hunter rasped as he opened your corset, your breasts falling to their natural position under your chemise as they were no longer held up by your stays. You let out a breath of comfort. 

Hunter smiled ruefully. “Better? How tight did your maid tie you up?”

“Tighter than usual. I had someone to impress.”

Hunter grinned and kissed your breasts through the thin cotton, your nipples tightening and pointing through the fabric. “I’m always impressed by you.”

You smiled and kissed him once more before pulling away. “It hardly seems fair that I’m almost indecent while you’re basically fully dressed.

Hunter laughed heartily, a sound that made your chest squeeze. He kept smiling at you, still on one knee between your legs as he pulled off his coat, bunching it up and throwing it into a pile with your dress. He pulled off his cravat roughly and started to unbutton his waistcoat when your hands reached out to stop him.

“Let me,” you told him quietly and your fingers brushed his. You started undoing the buttons of his waistcoat, quiet between you. You felt his eyes on you as you unbuttoned and when you looked up to slide the garment off his shoulders, he was gazing at you with this look you couldn’t decipher. Perhaps it was adoration. 

You threw the waistcoat on the pile and Hunter was only left in his shirt, breeches and his boots. You smiled as you ran a hand slowly down the neckline of his shirt, your fingers touching his sternum and the nest of dark curly hair there. You remember watching him train in this years ago, and now here you were.

You met his eyes and watched his eyes smile at you, softening at the sides as he started to untuck his shirt and unbutton it, his eyes never leaving your face. 

You watched, mesmerised as Hunter shrugged the shirt off and revealed his bare chest. You took in a breath as you realised how muscular and broad he was. The tendons of his shoulders and collarbones were taut and strong, and his stomach flat except for the raised muscles in a six formation. His hair extended across the expanse of his chest and down into his breeches, but what surprised you the most was the port wine stain that appeared on his face also travelled down his torso, painting one side of his chest a beautiful burgundy across his brown skin. You traced your fingers across the outline and watched the way he shivered under your touch, goosebumps erupting across his skin. He was sculpted by the Gods; Michaelangelo had surely modelled the statue of David from him. 

“You’re beautiful,” you breathed, fingers trailing down his chest before you met his eyes, a small smile tugging the corners of your lips.

Hunter’s eyes widened for a moment at your declaration before his lips twitched, like they itched to smile. He placed his hands on the sides of your thighs, the thin cotton a poor barrier for the heat of his hands as he rubbed circles into your skin. 

“You think so?” he replied quietly, like he didn’t quite believe you.

“Yes,” you told him, your smile turning big. “Heavenly. That’s what you are.”

Hunter studied for face, his expression pensive before he spoke.

“I’ve heard people say this–” his fingers skimmed his face and down his chest, knocking yours, “–is the mark of the devil.”

You frowned. “Who said that?”

“People. When we were children. I…faced ridicule. And in turn, it marked my brothers. It got worse when Crosshair was born, and the stain across his eye became known. We were outcasts already, but this made it worse.”

Your heart broke thinking of Hunter as a child, facing ridicule for something he could not control, for something that made him unique. If he was protective over his family now, you could only imagine back then. What a silly superstition. How could anyone look at Hunter, see how he was with his family and with others, and think he was anything but an angel? No mark upon his face should dictate who he was. 

You shook your head and pressed your hand against the centre of his chest, right above his heart. You felt it beat steadily under your palm, the rhythm matching yours. You met his eyes.

“They could not be more wrong,” you told him softly in earnest.

You felt his heartbeat speed up underneath your palm, making you smile. You watched an expression pass through his face. Was it relief? You felt his hands on your thighs squeeze before he captured the hand that lay on his chest between both of his and kissed your palm softly.

“That’s…very nice to hear.” You heard his voice break a little as he spoke, his mouth pulling into a sincere smile that conveyed so much love, you felt you might burst with it.

Hunter leaned in and captured your lips in his once more, this kiss slow and passionate as it told you without words the depth of his feelings for you. You pulled him closer as you deepened the kiss. You let him drape your arms around his neck, and he shifted so his hands grabbed your hips. He pulled away only for a moment, his lips murmuring into yours.

“‘M gonna switch us,” he mumbled. You only nodded, and a laugh rippled from you as Hunter hoisted your body against his. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist as he swiftly switched your places, so he sat on the bench and you straddled his lap. Hunter pulled you in so your centre was pressed against the ties of his breeches. It was a scandalous feeling that flowed through you as felt Hunter’s bulge against you. You gasped as he let out a strangled sound. You pulled back to look at him, a mix of an amused and tortured smile on his face as he looked up at you.

“Oh, I like this position,” you told him.

“Yeah? Me too,” he said and buried his head in your neck, kissing there as he pulled your body against his again, rocking you into the hardness of him through the cotton of your chemise. You moaned, feeling your folds slick again, despite only coming a mere five minutes ago.

“Hunter, I need you,” you told him. 

Hunter groaned into your collarbone. “I need you too. I’m out of patience.”

You felt him shift his hold on you, so one hand held you at the small of your back and kept you from sliding off him, and the other quickly untied the fastenings of his breeches and shifted them down slightly. You slid a hand down between you, fingers knocking against his as you felt his cock spring up against his stomach. You gasped when your fingertips brushed his length, the skin hot and hard. He groaned and wrapped his hand around your wrist.

“Please.” His voice practically trembled. 

You looked at him and watched the way his eyebrows had slanted down at the ends, his mouth parted. You slowly grazed your fingernails against his length and he jerked underneath you.

“Christ,” he panted.

You wrapped your hand around his length, the way you’d read about, and you heard him groan. Both his hands went to your back, clutching the gaping fabric of your chemise. The way he was reacting only made your stomach tighten and your folds flood with wetness. And you’d barely touched him. 

You looked down between you and saw the head of his cock had pooled with precum already. You circled your thumb over the small slit there, coating it and Hunter hissed, head burying in your neck and teeth biting the meat of your shoulder. You moaned, heat running through you. The hilt of his cock was nestled with dark curls and you shifted your hand down and up. Hunter cried out, head falling back as he looked at you, eyes bleary.

“My love, I’m so worked up right now, I will not last if you keep doing that.”

“What?” You feigned innocence. “This?”

You moved your hand again the same way, squeezing a little this time, and Hunter’s eyes screwed shut as he yelped again, shifting your body closer to his. Your centre chaffed against your chemise which rubbed against his cock.

“Christ.” His neck strained before he reached up and smoothed a hand over your hair. “I need to be inside you.”

Nerves and excitement fluttered through you at his words. You had read about such things, of course, and had wanted so badly to experience sex with Hunter, but now being presented with the very situation you had dreamed of happening with Hunter filled you with uncertainty. You wanted this to go right, for him to enjoy himself with you.

“I need that too,” you told him.

“It…It might hurt a little at first,” he said, hand smoothing your hair again. “We’ll go slow. And you tell me to stop and I will.”

You smiled at his concern, his care. “I trust you.”

Hunter smiled at you and pulled you in for a lingering kiss before he pulled away. “Lift up for me, sweet girl.”

You placed your hands on his shoulders and raised yourself on your knees, the stone bench beneath them digging in a little as butterflies swooped in your stomach. Hunter lifted you against him, hands under your thighs as he moved you both to the ground.

“Next time we do this, it will be in a bed,” he told you, his voice light with mild annoyance. You laughed as he lay you back against the pile of clothes you had created, a makeshift mattress out under the stars.

You looked at him as he leaned over you, body in between your legs, dark curls falling over his shoulders and hanging down. The lantern by the bench provided a warm orange glow, but the moon did most of the work, lighting up his hooked nose and gorgeous face. With the stars behind him, you placed his hair behind his ear with a smile, in awe of him.

“What is it?” he asked, mouth lifting into a smile. You felt the lines of his smile stretch under your hand on his cheek.

“I love you,” you told him simply because it explained everything.

He smiled, and you felt his skin heat before he bent to kiss you once more. He kissed you deeply, tongue sliding against yours before he pulled back. His eyes stayed on you, a soft reassuring expression as he bunched your chemise around your hips, spread your legs so you were completely open to him and positioned himself. Your heartbeat quickened as you felt him at your entrance.

“Are you ready, my love?” he asked, his voice as soft as his eyes.

You let out a shaky breath before nodding and biting your lip.

Hunter nodded and in a hushed voice, told you to try and relax as he slowly pushed in. He moaned, face screwed as he sunk himself inside you, hands tightening on your hips. Despite your slickness, the stretch caused some pain to bolt through you and you hissed, your hands curling around his forearms.

Hunter immediately stopped, eyes flying open as he looked down at you with concern. “Are you okay?”

You nodded and took a breath. “Keep going.”

Hunter watched your expression as he slowly moved further in until he was fully seated inside you. You screwed your eyes shut, fingernails digging into his arms, and you felt one of his hands rub up and down your thighs as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. It was full feeling, but not overly uncomfortable. The books you’d read glossed over this part. 

You felt embarrassed, waiting a moment for your body to be okay to keep going and opened your eyes as you rushed to say, “I’m sorry, I’m just–”

“Hush,” Hunter told you, silencing you gently, his expression soft. “We have all the time in the world.”

You let out a breath before he continued, mouth tipping up at the side. “Though the way you’re squeezing me…”

You grinned, a laugh bubbling out of you. “Good?”

“Incredible,” Hunter sighed.

You both laughed together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Hunter brushed some strands of hair back as he looked down at you and you felt yourself and your anxieties ease. He was so incredibly special.

You shifted underneath him as your body had grown used to him. “I think you can move now.”

“Nice and slow,” he confirmed with you.

Both you and Hunter made sounds of pleasure as he started to rock into you, pulling out a little before moving back in, the movement becoming more fluid and easy as he kept going. Hunter’s grip on your hips guided the movements, and you moaned as the nub of your folds bumped against him.

“Christ, you’re so pretty like this,” he told you as you moved your hips against him to match his thrusts. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

He bent to kiss you once more as he slid inside you again. His hips rolled into yours in easy languid motions, his cock moving in and out of you. You moaned, fingers clawing his back as he began to quicken his movements, thrusts now steady and hard as the pleasure built inside you. You stockinged legs coming up and sliding around his waist, one ankle pushing in at the small of his back to pull him in deeper. 

Sex with Hunter was much better than anything you had ever read, better than your own fingers. His thrusts confident yet never painful, his hands firm but never hurting. The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you was unbelievable, and you were so glad you were able to experience such a thing with him. That he survived the war, and your love for each other had endured. And now, under the stars, he took you in a way that showed all his love for you. 

You’d both been patient for this, and he may have said he had never been virtuous, but the way he was making you feel right now felt religious; the feverent way he held you and loved you was almost sacramental, the angel he was. 

Hunter’s grip on your hips tightened and you watched the way his need for you eclipsed his features. It was an expression you liked and wanted to see more of. His pupils blown, mouth parted, hair messy. It pleased you to know that you made him like that.

The only sounds that filled the night were both of your moans and groans and the slap of Hunter’s hips against the backs of your thighs. Hunter’s movements increased, as did the husky sound that came from the back of his throat with each one. Hunter’s grip moved to take your hands from his shoulders, pressing them next to your head as he laced your fingers together. Each thrust buried him inside you, the hilt of his cock brushing your nub enough that you felt the heat in you rising, coiling in your stomach. It was intoxicating, and you never wanted him to stop.

“I’m…I’m so close, my love,” Hunter panted, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow in the moonlight.

“As am I,” you told him breathlessly, hands squeezing his.

“Where?” he asked, and you felt him twitch inside you, on the cusp of it.

You were familiar with the question; your novels prepared you for this part. “Inside,” you told him without an ounce of hesitation.

Hunter groaned, his pacing stuttering. “Are you certain? It could–”

“Yes,” you cut him off. “Please. I know the risk and I am unbothered by it.”

Hunter’s face fell into your neck, groan vibrating against your skin, teeth nipping there gently. “Christ,” you heard him mumble. “You’ve ruined me.”

After several deep thrusts that you felt hit the furthest part of your core, he faltered and you heard him cry out as he stilled, and you felt him spill inside you. His hands tightened on yours, palms pressing together they may as well be fused. 

You gasped, moaning as he shuddered above you, no longer able to hold his weight fully, he let himself drape his body on top of yours. Warmth pooled between your legs, and you rolled your hips against the hilt of his cock. Hunter hissed at the moment as he caught his breath, lifting his head to look at you with hooded eyes. Hunter stayed seated inside you as he slowly unlaced his hands from yours so he could shift off you slightly and lift himself up enough to slide a hand between your bodies. 

“Your turn,” he told you before he slanted an open mouth kiss over your lips as his fingers brushed your nub, making you jerk and gasp into his mouth. 

His fingers circled there slowly at first before they increased, rubbing with his fore and middle fingers which were coated in your slick. You felt the pleasure rising rapidly and you barely had time to say anything before you fell over the edge, that pleasure erupting from you as you cried out, mouth open under his and eyes shut. You shuddered and writhed underneath his body as he drew out your orgasm, legs trembling as you squeezed his length still inside you, making him moan into your mouth. The feeling was indescribable, more intense than your previous orgasm had been, and you clutched at his forearm and shoulder, wishing this feeling never came to an end.

You were completely his, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Then his fingers slowed, and your body came down from its peak, limbs feeling like jelly. You opened your eyes to see his brown ones staring back at you, noses knocking as you both smiled, feeling each other lips stretch with your own.

Hunter placed one last kiss on your lips before he pulled back. You laughed lightly, too happy to fully conceal it. You pushed his hair back and bit your lip. Hunter smiled down at you, birthmark flushed, then bent to kiss your cheek. 

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

Your face heated as he slowly slid out of you, the loss of him a dull ache as your body readjusted to the empty feeling. Hunter rose to his knees and tucked himself back into his breeches before reaching out to adjust your chemise, hands running down your stockings once he had. He smiled and shook his head at you.

“You should see how you look right now,” he said, a rueful expression painting his face.

Your hands flew to your cheeks, pressing your fingers against the hot skin. “Why?”

“You’re an angel,” he said, fumbling for his cravat to wipe you and his fingers with.

“No, you are,” you told him as the silk fabric slid across your folds.

Hunter laughed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Did I go too hard?”

“You were perfect,” you assured him, the soreness between your thighs a common symptom post-coitus, according to your books. 

Hunter lay next to you and propped up on his elbow and you turned a little to face him, smile unable to leave your face. He smiled lovingly at you, and you at him. He opened his mouth when a deep baritone bellowed from somewhere outside the maze.

“Hunter! You better get back here! The Commodore’s looking for his daughter!” Wrecker’s voice carried over the hedges.

You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. Hunter smiled and shook his head.

“We better go,” he said, sitting up then standing and holding a hand out to you.

“How long have we been gone?” You asked, taking his hand. Hunter pulled you up with such strength you fell forward into his arms, pressed against his chest. He caught you easily.

“Long enough,” he said. “Can’t keep him waiting.”

You looked up at him reassuringly when you saw his expression turn thoughtful, hands on his upper ams and circling the skin there with your thumbs. “He will be pleased.”

Hunter smiled at your words and you returned it before pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I’ll need your help to lace me up.”

Hunter’s smile turned into a grin, his teeth white in the moonlight. “I’ll be gentle.”

“You always are,” you told him placing your lips to his one last time before the secret of the two of you would be revealed, and your always with Hunter began.

this is the last part of falling for mr. batchbury, but please let me know if you would like to see more of the batchbury brothers...because these are a delight to write! otherwise, i have more fics coming so stay tuned! thank you for reading and supporting me!

🏷️ @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @chopper-base @shredderwest @leavingkamino @r2d2staser @beckbucket @pb-jellybeans @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls @fruitsaladtree @literallydontlook @burningfieldof-clover @queencousland101 @clonethirstingisreal @skellymom @hopelessromantic727 @rebel-ezra @lulalovez

TAGLIST FORM

[dindjarindiaries]

Senator's Shadow - Chapter 9

summary: Hunter and the squad do their best to reinforce you as you aim to end the crisis on Eirus once and for all.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader

rating: mature (18+)

tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut

word count: 6.912k

chapter 8 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 10 (epilogue)

chapter 9 ⟹

Hunter was holding his breath from the moment you had stolen it. His eyes followed you until you disappeared from sight, his chest burning from both the lack of air and his effort to let you go rather than keep you close. He would have gladly surrendered himself with you, but you needed him elsewhere. That was enough.

That would have to be enough.

Wrecker cleared his throat louder than he had to. The sound brought Hunter back to the present, and he snapped his head around to face the squad. They were all staring at him through their helmets, frozen in place in a way Hunter had never seen before.

Despite the severity of the moment, Hunter couldn’t help chuckling to himself. He smirked as he set his helmet back in place and raised his brow at his brothers. “Don’t tell me you’ve all gotten shy, boys.”

They all slowly began to shift around. Tech was bold enough to attempt words first. “We… simply had yet to observe such an affectionate gesture.” He glanced down at his datapad, avoiding eye contact. “Between you two, that is.”

Hunter’s visor looked pointedly around the group. When no one else spoke, he chuckled again. “Clearly, we haven’t spent enough time at Seventy-Nines.”

He let the amusement fade from his tone as he straightened shoulders. You were on your way down to some unknown fate, and here he was, cracking jokes.

“Come on. We have our orders.” Hunter pointed to his left, and the boys’ right. “Wrecker, Tech, you take this side.” He did the same with the other side. “Crosshair, Echo, you go the other way.” He drew his blaster and nodded. “We need to make sure we’re surrounding this courtyard at every possible angle, so keep yourselves spread out.”

“Are we staying up high?” Echo asked, his blaster also drawn.

“Affirmative. We have the high ground, and we need to keep it.”

Wrecker groaned, but Tech was nudging him back towards the stone railing before he could make any other kind of protest. Hunter turned to Crosshair for a quick moment. “Position yourself somewhere with a good shot at anyone who approaches the senator.”

Crosshair nodded and turned to follow Echo, who had already leapt from the outpost’s roof and swung down. Hunter waited until all of his brothers were safely on their way to steady himself with a breath and approach the railing that separated him from the courtyard.

He slowly stood from his crouch, giving himself just enough height to see between the intermittently raised pillars of the railing and view the courtyard. The chaos below had already fizzled out, and the first thing he observed was that the fighters had stopped shooting to concentrate their fire on one specific target.

You. Hands raised, mask and hood both lowered, moving from the safe shadows of the outpost to the exposed light.

Hunter tightened his grasp on his blaster.

“There’s no need for fighting.” Your voice was so calm yet authoritative that it instinctively made Hunter want to obey the gentle order. It was a wonder how just minutes ago, you were trembling in his grasp during your desperate kiss. “I’m here now. Let’s talk this through.”

“At last.” A new voice spoke as soon as you had finished. Hunter was even more alert at once, and he sensed the powerful march of the man’s boots before he had even walked into the light. “We’ve been waiting for you, Senator.”

And there it was, the face he had spent this entire mission memorizing and dreading: Lii Alvani.

Hunter busied his rageful hand with the task of pressing down his comm. “Alvani’s here. Crosshair, your aim needs to be on him at all times.”

“Understood.” Even Crosshair’s cool tone sounded more focused than usual, as if he was suppressing the same amount of rage as Hunter.

You continued on without a single waver in your voice. “I had a feeling you’d be here.”

Alvani opened his arms. “As did I.” He had a sinister grin that Hunter wanted to punch off of his twisted face, but he kept holding on to the self control he had learned so long ago. “It was bold of you, Senator, to leave the capitol. And without any reinforcements!”

You remained unshaken. Warm pride bloomed within Hunter’s chest, despite the circumstances. “I spent many years fighting against you, Alvani, and my people and I emerged victorious. I knew that I could do it again.”

Alvani bowed his head. “This is true.” He lifted a finger. “Aside from a few key details. Your people are mine, now. But even then…” he chuckled, “you are not alone.” Alvani waved a hand at some of the fighters to his left. “Look for the clones.”

The fighters entered the outpost first, no doubt following your own trail. Hunter cursed and turned around to set his back against the stone, allowing himself to face the steps as he prepared to hide from the incoming patrol.

While he waited, Hunter turned his head to scour the nearby rooftops. The squad was blending into the night thanks to the dark ponchos that concealed them. He lifted his hand to his helmet. “Not sure if you’ve all heard, but Alvani’s looking for us. Stay alert, stay low, and stay quiet.”

“Copy that, Sarge,” Wrecker attempted his best whisper.

Hunter continued to listen to you and Alvani even as he attuned his senses to the incoming group of fighters. “The lies have already begun.” Alvani scoffed. “And some of you still trust her? Some of you think that she, and her supposed government, truly care about you?”

Hunter’s blood ran so hot that it started to prickle his skin. Even the rain that had started to fall steadily couldn’t have cooled him down if his skin was vulnerable to it. He was forced to move past the feeling when he heard the echoes of the patrol’s step, signaling him to push himself forward and hide amongst the shadows around the corner.

“These are not my troops opening fire on civilian villages, Alvani. Who do you think thwarted your last attack?”

Alvani laughed. “My attack? Senator, please. These riots have nothing to do with me.”

Hunter bit back a scoff of his own, his blaster raised as he slowly backed away from where the patrol had just emerged. They split up, causing Hunter to reach over his shoulder for the spare line in his pack and dart towards the center of the outpost’s roof.

Your patience was thinning, and Hunter could hear it. “And the fighters who are currently under your command?”

Hunter attached one end of the line to his belt and the other to the small spires of the inner railing. Once it was secure, he leapt over the edge, keeping himself pressed against the stone wall just above the transparisteel barrier. The quickening rainfall pattered against the fragile material, which would have made it hard for anyone without his heightened senses to hear the ongoing conversation.

The sound of Alvani’s voice was still grating, even at this distance. “They’re protecting the people, clearly.”

“From who?”

“You. And your supposed Republic.”

You let out a curt laugh. Hunter tensed as he watched the shadows of the patrol search the perimeter of the rooftop. “Is that the narrative you’re going with, Alvani? That’s ridiculously untrue and low, even for you.”

“Is it?” Hunter’s free hand tightened into a fist as he leaned his helmet against the slickened stone. The urge to launch himself back up and fight was getting harder to ignore. “The people of Eirus have been going without proper resources for many standard months.”

“Because what the Republic and I have been requesting for our people hasn’t been implemented. That’s why I have returned. Instead, I have found that Eirus’ elected officials are debating an alliance with Count Dooku for a deal that would strip this planet of its resources in a detrimental way.” You paused, and Hunter ached at the rising desperate tension in your voice. “I presume it was your idea, Alvani.”

“It’s clear up here,” one of the fighters on the rooftop reported. “We’ll descend and begin searching the outer perimeter. You two, stay up here.” Hunter grinned to himself. Finally, a way for him to take out his anger.

“The count offered me refuge when my homeworld turned its back on me. Now, I’ve come back to return the favor. His Confederacy can help Eirus to flourish once again as the droid factories boost our workforce.”

Hunter waited until the footsteps descended the staircase to pull himself back up the line. He gritted his teeth both at the physical effort and at Alvani’s blatant lies.

You sounded just as unconvinced. “Either you truly believe his lies, Alvani, or you’re deliberately using the same ones.”

“You’ll hear no lies from me, Senator. If only your people could expect the same from you.”

Hunter channeled his red-hot energy into battle as he swung himself over the railing and disconnected the line. His alert senses told him exactly where he could find the first fighter. Hunter lifted his arm and wrapped it around the human’s throat, squeezing it tighter and tighter as he continued to listen to what was happening in the courtyard.

“I do not, and will not, lie—especially not to my people. I can wholeheartedly admit that the Republic isn’t perfect, because as you have so graciously pointed out, even they have not yet provided for Eirus the way they should.”

The deadweight of the fighter began to fall upon Hunter as unconsciousness overtook him. Hunter eased his body down to the ground and moved ahead, seeking the second soldier in the shadows as you spoke.

“But they also have yet to take advantage of Eirus during this war. If the count establishes his droid factories here, then that will be bringing this war to our home permanently. Do we, a peaceful planet, really intend on forever tying ourselves to the production of these droids who have been targeting innocent civilians all across the galaxy?”

Hunter found the second guard and swung out his leg at the back of the Weequay’s knee to trip him. He knocked the fighter’s comlink away while he still had the advantage and kept him on his knees, yet again pulling his arm tight around the soldier’s throat.

“A peaceful planet being represented by a senator who’s arrived here in combat gear?” Alvani laughed. “Who earned her place by fighting her way there?”

Hunter took cruel pleasure in the ceasing of the Weequay’s breath.

“Being a senator was never my choice.” Your voice had gone calm again. “It was our people’s. I’m only fulfilling my duty at the request of the people of Eirus.”

“Perhaps it’s time for new leadership, then.”

Hunter was finally able to return to his previous place, his blaster raised again as he watched you and Alvani through the railing’s small spires. The downpour made it harder to see, but it seemed you were paying no mind to it as you faced Alvani with your hands held out by your sides in constant, peaceful surrender.

You nodded as you responded to him. “Perhaps it is.” You then shook your head. “But not under Count Dooku. He may have deceived you and all our elected officials, Alvani, or perhaps you’re taking part in his deception, but his intentions are cruel. He cares nothing about our planet, nor our people.”

Your focus went to the people who had started to surround the courtyard, from Alvani’s stationed fighters to the villagers who had dared to leave their homes.

“I learned a terrible truth before I came here. I discovered these supposed ‘riots’ have actually been orchestrated by the count and his forces to manipulate Eirus into accepting his offer for protection.”

A hushed gasp went around the crowd. Hunter saw the corners of Alvani’s mouth twitch downwards, though he otherwise held onto his smug expression.

“I don’t believe all of these fighters know this truth, because…” you paused, a new pain evident in your tone, “many of them are the same forces I fought alongside when we freed the planet from this man’s rule.”

Hunter watched as some of the fighters surrounding you started to lower their blasters, but they weren’t yet fully committed to abandoning them.

“I have gone undercover with my clone protectors on this occasion and one other to try to change the outcome of these attacks. We were only able to save one village. My home village being targeted and attacked just after that effort is not a coincidence.”

You paused again, and Alvani still didn’t say anything. Hunter’s brow furrowed as you took the opportunity to go on.

“I understand that Eirus has been through a lot. I was on the front lines for much of it. When I went to Coruscant, my mission continued, but there was a disconnect. Your officials, myself included, have failed you, and I cannot fully express how sorry I am for that.

“But I want to make things better. I don’t want to bring the war here. We have all fought and suffered enough. I propose that we re-elect brand-new officials on every level, including senatorial.” Hunter’s brow shot up. “Give the Republic one more chance to maintain the peace we have long since been seeking. Just as they sent the clone protectors here with me, they can protect us as a planet, but will do no further. Not unless we request it.”

Your words were met with stunned silence. Hunter looked around and watched the faces of your people, especially the villagers, soften at the sight of you. He smiled to himself. You were finally winning them over.

Then Alvani spoke. “What a well-crafted collection of deceit you have made, Senator. Truly, I commend you.” He shook his head. “But such lies cannot stand without evidence to prove them true. Can you at least provide your people with that, if you cannot provide them with the resources they need to live?”

Hunter watched you closely, and what he caught was the calculated way your focus went up and around at the surrounding structures. You were looking for something, or someone.

The signal.

Hunter lifted his hand to his helmet. “That’s the signal, boys. Time to join the party. Tech, have your datapad ready. Crosshair, stay where you are with a shot on Alvani.”

Crosshair’s tone was as cool as usual. “I copy.”

Hunter wasn’t waiting around for the others. He swung out over the edge of the roof and traded his blaster for his blade, digging it into the mortar of the outpost’s bricks to slow his descent. Once he was at a safe enough range, he let go and let himself fall, tucking and rolling once he landed.

The fighters had reinforced their grips on their blasters, but Hunter put away all of his weapons as he stood. He lowered the hood of his poncho and made his way to your side. Alvani’s eyes had widened as he made his approach, but once he was next to you, Hunter’s visor was only concerned with you. There wasn’t much you were giving away, even if Hunter could still see the sweet light of relief in your eyes. He nodded at you before facing Alvani again.

“Heard you’re looking for some evidence.” Hunter crossed his arms as he spoke.

Alvani gave him an incredulous once-over. “And what gives you such authority?”

Hunter lifted his hands to his helmet and removed it, exposing himself to the downpour in favor of staring down Alvani with his own eyes. “I’m the sergeant whose squad has been investigating and combating your attacks.” Hunter tucked his helmet under his arm and shrugged. “May not give me credibility in your eyes, but you can take that up with the Republic.”

Alvani scoffed. “And where is this ‘squad’ you speak of?”

“Right here.” Wrecker’s booming voice made Alvani jump as it appeared from behind him. Wrecker followed Hunter’s lead in having his weapons put away as he held his hands into fists and walked to your other side. “If you have any complaints, you can take ‘em up with me.”

“I wouldn’t risk that if I were you, sir,” Echo warned as he walked up from the shadows. He gestured with his helmet to Wrecker. “He’s not as lenient as the rest of the Republic.”

“Technically, we are supposed to be subject to the rules of command.” Tech held up his finger as he joined the rest of the group, though his focus was on the datapad in his other hand. “We, however, are not obligated to follow those because of our exceptional success rate.”

Once Tech was standing at Hunter’s other side, Alvani looked upon the squad with utter shock. His stare then found yours as he let out a laugh of disbelief. “Are these your aforementioned ‘clone protectors,’ Senator? Really?”

Hunter looked over at you, and your gaze met his as you smiled and nodded. “This is an elite clone squad, Alvani.” You peeled your stare from Hunter to face Alvani once again. “Underestimating them would be unwise.”

“We have the requested evidence.” Tech didn’t give Alvani a single second to speak. For once, Hunter was grateful for it. “Here, I have numerous communication recordings, coordinates of your whereabouts following Eirus’ previous crisis, and confirmed visuals of allies you worked with before being present on-world currently.” Tech looked up from his datapad. “Is that sufficient?”

The murmurs of the surrounding crowd became louder at that. Hunter heard your relieved exhale at his side, and he let it relax him further. The tide had shifted; you had the advantage. Your gamble had paid off.

You spoke into the silence when Alvani failed to. “Your deceptions are over, Alvani. It’s finally time for the people of Eirus to choose their own fate.”

You earned a few enthusiastic shouts at that. Hunter looked around and watched the fighters glance at one another before dropping their weapons to the ground. The corners of his lips started to turn up in a smile, one that only grew the moment he looked at you.

But Alvani sighed, and it wasn’t a defeated sound. “I had a feeling it would come to this.” Hunter’s attention snapped back to Alvani as he lifted his wrist to his lips. “Prime Minister, would you like to do the honors?”

It was then that Hunter sensed a frequency so strong it almost made him wince. Once he got a firmer grasp on it, he realized how familiar it was; too familiar. He lowered himself to the ground to make sure of it, no matter how confident he was in his own abilities. He splayed his palm over the muddy soil.

Your voice was strained with newfound worry. “What is it?”

Hunter put his helmet on and drew his blaster. “You need to get the civilians to safety.” He then spoke to his squad, who was already following the sergeant’s lead in grabbing their weapons. “Lads, we’re about to have some company.”

Echo took a step closer to Hunter. “What kind of company?”

Hunter lifted his blaster to his shoulder. “Clankers.”

Wrecker let out a cheer. “Oh, yeah! Finally!” Hunter took pleasure in the way Alvani’s expression twisted at Wrecker’s excitement.

“Droids?” Your panic was breathless. Hunter turned to face you fully. “How many?”

Hunter set his free hand on your shoulder. “Enough for us to handle.” He gave you a gentle squeeze. “We’ll take care of them. Have the fighters guard any gathered citizens inside the outpost.”

Your gaze gave him a once-over, your brow furrowed. You ultimately exhaled a light breath and nodded, setting your jaw. Hunter wished he could do more to comfort you, but with such an audience, it simply wasn’t safe. Your eyes flashed with sweet understanding before you stepped away and raised your voice.

“Everyone, inside the outpost! Now!”

Thankfully, the fighters had fully pledged their allegiance to you, and they obeyed your order without hesitation. They picked up their blasters and started directing the gathered citizens to the outpost, but you weren’t going with them. Hunter tilted his helmet when your stare found his visor again, and your smile and shrug said it all.

You had told them long ago that you would be on the front lines of this conflict, and that wouldn’t stop now.

But his senses were slammed by the awakening of the battle droids, and it would only be a matter of moments until they would start to open fire. Hunter was ready to warn you until he sensed an alarming movement much closer than the droids were. You weren’t the only one who had mastered the craft of a hidden holster.

Hunter reached for his knife and threw it without a second thought. The golden blade whizzed through the air and struck Alvani’s blaster just before he could pull the trigger on you. Hunter focused on aiming his own blaster, but it wasn’t his weapon that dealt the blow.

One blue circle of light from Crosshair’s perch was all it took to put Alvani out of commission, and his body hit the mud as soon as the droids who had been hiding in the darkness began to open fire.

Hunter positioned himself in front of you and fired his blaster into the fray. “Wrecker, get Alvani inside the outpost!”

Wrecker was quick to obey the order, allowing Hunter to focus on their surroundings. They needed cover, but they couldn’t afford to be pinned inside the outpost with everyone else. They were going to have to split up and use the infrastructure to their advantage.

Hunter spoke into his comm, regardless of the fact Echo and Tech were right beside him. “We’re splitting up again. We’ll stay in our original pairs. Wrecker, you’ll rendezvous with Crosshair’s position whenever you’re done with Alvani. Crosshair, stay where you are and watch our backs.”

“With pleasure,” Crosshair assured him.

“I… copy… Sarge!” Wrecker was breathing heavily from his run.

Hunter looked at Echo and Tech, directing them to the right with his blaster. They nodded and began to split off, which left you and Hunter to head to the left. He continued to shield you and fire at the droids until you had proper cover.

Taking shelter inside a tight alleyway with time to spare, Hunter kept you safe between himself and the wall that was at your back. His free hand removed his helmet while the hand with his blaster carefully wrapped around the back of your neck to bring your mouth to his.

You didn’t resist, at least not at first. You melted against him as easily as the rain trickled over your faces and his armor, and for a moment, you fisted the material of his poncho to pull him even closer. But then you flattened your palms against his armored chest and parted your lips from his, your brow furrowed as you sought an explanation.

Hunter pressed his wet forehead against yours. “You’re okay.” He exhaled his sigh of relief against your brow as he kissed it. “And you did it.”

You smiled at him, and though his breathless admiration and affection was reflected in your gaze, you were still able to quirk up an eyebrow. “Of course I did.”

Hunter huffed before he kissed you again. He needed this reassurance, and given how eager you were to match each desperate stroke, you did, too. Hunter could still spare a few words. “Giving up your senatorial seat, huh?”

You pulled away, your arms now wrapped around his neck, and gestured with your head to the alleyway’s opening. “Surely we can find a better time to talk about that.”

Hunter chuckled, his lips spreading wide in a fond, confident smirk. “I wouldn’t worry if I were you. I could fight clankers in my sleep.”

You gave him a dizzying once-over. “I’m sure you could.” You kissed his cheek that time. “So why don’t you show me?”

Hunter hummed and lifted his helmet once again, setting it over his head before nodding. “Finally.”

He had to agree with Wrecker’s earlier sentiment: he had missed this, the rush of battle, the thrill of doing what he and his brothers had quite literally been made for. There was still a lot to sort out, but now that you were okay and you had accomplished what you set out to do, Hunter was finally free to let himself loose again.

His squad was always showing off, but now, he had an even more important audience to show off for.

“So,” your voice had returned to a more tactical tone, “what’s the plan?”

Hunter holstered his blaster and took up the knife he had retrieved from the mud. He tilted his helmet at you. “Try to keep up.”

With that, he darted towards the alleyway’s opening, going right back to all the action. Cover had been important, yes, but only as a means of regrouping. Now, Hunter could weave himself in-and-out of all the gaps between buildings to avoid fire if he had to, all while pursuing these droids as if it was just another day’s work.

In a way, it was, though you had made this mission feel anything but ordinary.

Hunter didn’t have to consume himself with your wellbeing because of his confidence in both his own actions and yours, even if he did glance back to make sure you were still close. You already fit in nicely with his technique, acting as a defensive line of cover while Hunter pursued his assault with his blade.

He dodged, dove, flipped, and sliced, using his senses to find each target and confirm each kill. You were always there at the edges, illuminating them with a warmth that rivaled the chill of the rain seeping beneath his armor. He could hear the familiar jolts of Crosshair’s rifle firing shots from his perch, and at one point, he heard Wrecker’s yells as he finally plowed through to get to Crosshair’s position.

Everything was just as it should be. And to think that at the end of it all, there was even a chance for your place with them to be permanent, should you want to take it.

Hunter had his blade deep in a droid’s skull when his comm went off. “They really didn’t bother sending their best here,” Echo commented.

“Which was a wise course of action,” Tech chimed in. “This is the final chance they are giving Eirus. It would be a waste of resources to send their most refined droids to a planet they do not even know if they will have.”

“That would explain why there’s only one wave.” Crosshair huffed, though the noise was mostly static through the comms. “We’ve nearly fought through all their forces.”

“Already?” Wrecker was disappointed. “Aw, man! I just got here!”

“We’ll be back in the field before you know it, Wrecker.” Hunter paused as he sliced through a droid on his left and then swung around to stab the neck of one on his right. You blasted down a droid just behind him, and he nodded in your direction to thank you. “Just have fun while you can.”

Your voice rose above the sounds of battle to speak to him. “I quite like your squad’s idea of ‘fun,’ Sergeant.”

Hunter let out a soft laugh and glanced at you over his shoulder. “You’re a natural, Senator.”

Hunter had chased another kind of pleasant adrenaline with you before, but he had to agree: this was just pure fun.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the boys were back in Hunter’s sights. The droids’ numbers were dwindling fast, and the squad’s restlessness during the course of this mission had much to do with it, no doubt. They were all itching to be back on the battlefield again, and that meant these droids never stood a chance. Hunter honestly felt a bit of pity for them.

Then he remembered why they were sent here, and that softer feeling faded fast.

When there was only one left, Hunter held up his men and let you do the honors. He tossed up his blade and you caught it just as you holstered your blaster, continuing your movement to bury it down to the hilt inside the droid’s wired neck. You retracted the knife only when the droid collapsed, bringing an end to the conflict.

“Ha-ha! Yeah!” Wrecker lunged forward to give you a high-five. Hunter crossed his arms and shook his head, despite the fact he was beaming underneath his helmet. He glanced over at Tech, who was already tapping away on his datapad.

Hunter’s brow rose. “Reinforcements?”

Tech’s gaze flickered up at him. “Negative. Just as I said before, the Separatists have no interest in a planet that cannot promise its resources any longer. This was, indeed, their final chance.”

Hunter’s focus returned to you when you handed him his blade. He took it, his fingers brushing yours, and sheathed it. Your gaze was relieved as it bore through his visor, but it was also exhausted, vulnerable to him in a way that made his chest tight. When you were at his side, he held a hand upon your back, and you leaned your head against his armored shoulder.

“Awww,” Wrecker cooed.

Crosshair nudged him with his shoulder. “Grow up, Wrecker.” Hunter huffed.

“So,” Echo gestured to the open stretch of ground littered in droid parts, “that’s it, Senator?”

You lifted your head from Hunter to nod. “It is.” Your stare scanned the group, a fond smile stretching across your lips. “I can’t thank you all enough for your tireless effort to help me see this through.” You let out a soft laugh. “Especially seeing how much you’ve had to hold back this entire time.”

Wrecker rolled his neck. “That’s not even the half of it!”

You beamed at him. “I’m sure.” You let out a slow and steady exhale. “Now… well, the Prime Minister’s involvement is troubling, but not entirely unpredictable.” You glanced up at Hunter. “It makes me glad I promised to re-elect every position.”

“Are you really gonna give up yours, Senator?” Echo’s hand was on his hip, now.

You bowed your head. “If that’s what my people want. Whatever it takes to maintain this peace and give the Republic another chance.”

Crosshair shifted his weight to one hip as he kept his arms crossed. “And if you do give up your seat?”

You shrugged, unable to resist a smile as your stare met Hunter’s through his visor. “Then I guess I’ll have to find another way to serve the Republic.”

Hunter tilted his helmet, as if he actually had to consider your words. “I’m sure something can be arranged.” His hand gave your back a few gentle pats. “But first, we have to wrap this up.”

Your gaze flickered low as you nodded. “And you have to get back to the battlefield, now that this mission is over.”

Hunter returned your nod. “We should at least stick around until all the Separatists’ allies are gone. Only then can we really guarantee your safety.”

Your stare simply lingered in his. It would buy you both a little more time until you had to separate, if only for a little while—that is, if your people even wanted to choose someone new as their senatorial representative. It surely seemed like you had won them over again. That left you with maybe one or two more nights together.

Hunter wasn’t even sure how much time you could spend together tonight. There was so much left to do, but seeing you drenched by the downpour and splashed by mud made him want to do nothing except help you wash with warm water and hold you until the exhaustion left your eyes.

But duty would come first, just as it always had.

The rest of the evening was a blur. You and the squad were met with cheers when you returned to the outpost, which meant it wasn’t difficult to get the fighters to join you on the trip back to the planetary capitol. They acted as the necessary force to get the Prime Minister and the other officials involved with the droid attack to surrender, though Hunter and the boys were with you, too.

You had promised a session the next day to begin sorting things out. You would be bringing more Republic officials on-world to facilitate, and to take care of Alvani, the Prime Minister, and the others. The arrival of those officials would also mark the departure of the squad. They were set to arrive in Hunter’s predicted window: two nights from now, including the rest of tonight.

The watch shifts were no longer, but Hunter’s presence in your bedroom was enough protection, anyway. He did eventually get to care for you in the way he had wanted to before, and he even allowed himself to smile at the thought of it before exhaustion took him right along with you. There wasn’t enough time or energy between the two of you to pursue anything else.

The second night, however, was one you both made use of. There was no promise yet of when, or frighteningly if, you could join his squad in some capacity, and that nervous energy was channeled into breathless and passionate desperation. It somehow managed to rival that first night you spent together, leaving Hunter’s senses frayed and pleased as exhaustion overwhelmed him in a much different way than the night before.

When the morning came, Hunter wasn’t brave enough to face it. He woke and remained where he was, his face pressed against the nape of your neck as your naked shoulders rose and fell in time with his own. Hunter listened to your heartbeat, gently stretching his senses just enough to memorize its distinct rhythm. It kept him calm, as if it was always meant to tune him.

Your entwined fingers eventually gave his a soft squeeze, and he exhaled a breath of defeat. There would be no hiding from this day, nor this goodbye.

You kept your hands together as you rolled over to face him. Hunter gave you a once-over, though the contrasting sparkle of sweetness and sadness in your gaze gave him pause. He held your stare as you lifted your free hand to brush through his hair, right where his bandana would usually be.

“How long have you been awake?” Your voice was no louder than a whisper.

Hunter let out a gentle huff. “Longer than you think.”

You laughed, though your amusement was short-lived as you heaved out a troubled breath. “This won’t be the end.” You gave him a nod, one of those determined ones that made his chest swell. “I don’t know what choice my people will make, but… I won’t let this be the end.”

Hunter raised his brow. “You’ll do whatever it takes to help your people, because that’s just who you are.” Hunter’s hand cupped your face as he returned your nod. “And that’s okay.”

You smiled at him. “You’re right.” You moved close enough for your nose to brush his. Hunter closed his eyes and tried to memorize that feeling, too. “But someone once told me that I don’t have to sacrifice all my wants for my people’s needs.” Hunter reopened his eyes and met the breathtaking sincerity within your own. “And I want to be with you, Hunt.”

Hunter smiled. Stars, he would never get tired of hearing you say his name like that. “I want that, too.” He couldn’t resist a kiss, even if it was brief. “You’ll know where to find us. We’ll just be out there chasing clankers.”

You hummed with amusement as you pushed your lips harder against his. It was easy to accept you, to meet each eager, desperate stroke and let at least one of his hands explore you while he still could. But there wasn’t any more time left to use up. Duty called.

Somehow, Hunter managed to pry himself from you and begin dressing for the day. You followed his lead, and Hunter couldn’t help noticing you had slipped on the same dress from the day you first met. Warmth consumed him from head to toe as he finished securing all his armor in place. He then sat in sweet silence with you until you were ready.

There was no other reason to stall. Hunter guided you out of the bedroom and the suite with a hand on your back, just like he had in that grandiose ballroom what felt like ages ago. Once the two of you had stepped outside, Hunter alerted the squad, and the next few minutes were the last you would have alone together.

For now, Hunter reminded himself. He agreed with what you had said before. Somehow, he knew, and truly knew, this was far from the end.

The boys were surprisingly quiet as they emerged from their rooms, as if they also felt the weight of the upcoming goodbye. They would be departing after breakfast, which made this silence stretch even longer, aside from a few of their usual quips and sibling disagreements. That might have been the one dining area where Wrecker didn’t start some kind of large-scale food fight.

You walked close enough to Hunter’s side for your hand to brush his a few times as you made your way to the platform where the Marauder was waiting. Hunter experienced a twinge of relief at the sight of it, with the ship feeling more like a home than even Kamino at that point, but the weight of this goodbye hadn’t fallen from him yet.

Your captain and your guard were waiting on the platform with the other Republic officials, representing the trade-off of protective duties that would go from Hunter and his squad back to your own guard. Hunter wasn’t too happy with it, but at least he knew you could protect yourself if you had to. It wouldn't be much longer until he could protect you again.

That’s what he had to keep telling himself.

You stopped by your captain, facing the squad that stood in a loose formation with their backs at the Marauder. Your gaze looked upon them all as you smiled and spoke in your formal tone. “I cannot thank you enough, Clone Force 99, for all you have done.” You closed your eyes and nodded, bowing your head a bit before looking upon them again. “Eirus would not have its freedom without you.” You chuckled. “Or its senator.”

Hunter set his jaw at the thought of it.

“I wish you all safe passage to your next journey.” Your stare caught his as you spoke one last time. “I’m sure our paths will cross again.”

“They better!” Wrecker insisted.

Hunter gave his head a fond shake. He watched as his squad all nodded and even smiled at you before heading for the ship, soon leaving just him and you. Your smile was sweeter than ever as you reached your hand forward, just like you had done on Coruscant.

Hunter took it and pressed his lips upon the back of it, his stare never once straying from yours until he forced himself to let go and turn away.

The squad all spun around to pretend they hadn’t been watching, as if Hunter and his senses hadn’t felt their gazes boring into his back. It made him chuckle to himself as he closed the distance to the ship.

The Marauder was quiet when he stepped inside, aside from the rumble of its engines as Tech prepared for takeoff. Echo’s hand caught Hunter’s shoulder before he could make his way to the cockpit, but no words came. They simply exchanged a nod, and Echo let Hunter go to join Tech up front.

Tech had obviously noted Hunter’s approach. “Where are we headed?”

Hunter sat down in the chair beside him and crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ll go back to Kamino, reset before we take our next mission.”

Tech nodded, and his hands flew over the controls as he input the coordinates and lifted the Marauder from Eirus’ surface. Hunter was glad he couldn’t see the sight of it fading behind them.

He was surprised when Tech started to speak again. “You failed to meet the proper protocol with the senator yet again, Hunter.”

Hunter turned his head to look at him, his brow furrowed. Tech gave him an amused glance, though he kept his focus on the stars that were starting to stretch ahead of them.

“I believe you were supposed to aim for her lips, not her hand.”

Hunter’s ears began to burn as he shook his head, though a fond smile stretched over his lips. He would have only risked that if he knew it was your final goodbye, and he didn’t truly believe that it was—not for a single moment.

chapter 8 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 10 (epilogue)

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020

senator’s shadow tag list: @callsign-denmark @dindadjarin @clintbarton-anon

[wreywrites]

The Sniper of Old Pabu

Summer of Bad Batch Week 1

Prompts: Water Gun Fight & "It's not what you think."

A/N: Decided to write little scenes and snippets in and around my current WIP "Shattered." I promise I'm working on it, but in the meantime, enjoy Summer of Bad Batch and all the Omega & Boys & Zara shenanigans. Warnings: None, it be fluff AO3

Echo dropped behind the crumbling wall. Missed shots plastered the brick behind and above him, where his head had been only seconds before. Footsteps pounded toward him. He raised his blaster and faced the corner, finger on a hair trigger. With a scuffle of scraping gravel, Omega skidded around the corner and dropped to a crouch next to him.

He heaved out a relieved breath and lowered his blaster. “Thought you might be—”

“I know,” she panted, pushing sweaty hair back off her forehead. “I thought about whistling, but then they’d know our signal.”

“So you risked it?”

Shouts echoed through the old compound.

“It’s usually not a problem,” Omega hissed back. “When Zara’s here, and I can just—you know—think at her, and she tells you not to shoot.”

“She’s coming back, right?”

Omega twisted around and peeked over the wall, ducking back down quickly as three more shots hit the wall behind her. “Yeah, yeah, she just didn’t know how long it would be when she left. Guess the Protectors—”

“They play fast and loose these days, with no throne to protect.”

“Should we be there? Since we’re Mandalorians too?”

Echo snorted. “We’re not the right kind of Mandalorians. Well…” he frowned, listening to the shouts and shots a few buildings away, trying to decide who was winning, “We’re not necessarily the wrong kind of Mandalorians, especially if Zara speaks for us—”

“She told me she could adopt us,” Omega giggled, “but that would make… things… weird.”

“What things?” Echo feigned innocence. “Things like none of our names sounding good with Rau? Wrecker Rau?” He shuddered.

“Omega Rau sounds good. And it’s not like any of your names sound more awkward than Zara Rau.”

“That’s fair.”

The compound fell quiet and Echo peered over the wall. He came back down with a frown.

“All gone?”

“All gone.”

“Huh. I wonder—” Omega cut off with a shocked yelp.

Echo, fully aware of his occasional shortcomings as a brother/father/mother figure, left her for dead and scrambled back around the crumbling wall the way he had come.

“Coward!” Omega laughed after him, slumping dramatically over the wall, the back of her shirt soaked with water.

“Yep!”

“Avenge meeeee!” she wailed in the throes of a badly-acted death scene.

“Will do, kid.”

Confident he had cover from whoever had sniped Omega—undoubtedly Crosshair—Echo looked toward the rest of the old market district—Pabu’s new official water gun and laser tag arena. Hunter was sprawled dramatically against the old burned-out pastry shop, chatting quietly with Wrecker, whose boots were just visible behind the old ice cream stand.

Hunter glanced up at Echo, then gestured between Wrecker and himself. “We’re both dead.”

Echo nodded. “As you were then.”

Wrecker sat up and leaned around the ice cream stand just far enough to give Echo a not-entirely-sincere salute, then flopped back down. “Should still sell ice cream out of this place,” he grumbled.

Hunter nodded as Echo jogged off in a crouch. “Maybe delivery-style. You get shot, they send a runner in with your consolation ice cream.”

Wrecker gasped. “We could train Batcher to run ice cream!”

“Yes!” Omega chimed from across the square. “Lyana and I will start tonight!”

Chuckling, Echo rounded the corner and crept up the stairs. With Hunter and Wrecker out as well as Omega, that left one member of each team—him, Tech, and Crosshair. He was sure Crosshair was sniping from the roof of the bar, but where Tech was—especially if he hadn’t been there to watch Hunter’s back—

Echo tripped as he rounded the corner, falling forward hard onto something definitely not stairs. Two shots hit the wall where he had been. Swearing, he shrank lower and hauled Tech into a sitting position in front of him to block two more shots that came from Crosshair’s rifle, very visible from here.

“Come on, help me out a little,” Echo grunted.

“That would be against the regulations,” Tech said, letting his head loll to the other side. “Per the rules of the engagement, I am functionally dead—”

“All right, all right.” Echo managed to prop Tech’s shoulder against the inside corner wall so he was sitting up and creating just enough cover for Echo to kneel behind him. “How many shots does he have?”

“I am deceased and therefore unable to assist you.”

Echo rolled his eyes. “Were you at least having fun before Crosshair got you?”

“Oh yes!” Tech’s eyes lit up the way they always did when he got to talk, uninterrupted, about something he loved. “I enjoy all of our tactical simulation games. And Hunter and I have worked out a new plan—143—that we both think will benefit the group. Though, of course, we will have to wait until Zara returns to truly test its effectiveness.”

Echo nodded, poked his head over Tech’s shoulder, and slowly straightened up. Crosshair’s rifle was no longer visible. Then again, Crosshair knew it was just the two of them left. He might have moved to a better position knowing Echo would head to his usual sniper’s nest to dig him out, or maybe he had taken a page out of Echo’s book and was hunting him down at this very moment, or maybe—and this way was the way to madness.

Echo took a quick breath and ran for it. He dodged around Tech, keeping his head low as he bolted up the stairs and dove behind a pile of crates. There was a scraping, scuffling sound overhead, the sound of Crosshair getting into a different position.

Echo nodded to himself. Still up there. He’d take the back ladder—Crosshair would never expect him to come up that way—hopefully there would be some tables or something up there for cover, then one quick shot to the back of the head, and Echo and Omega would win and receive that most glorious of prizes: picking tonight’s movie.

He crept across the empty balcony, eased his way up the ladder, and peeked onto the roof.

Nothing?

He frowned and moved up one rung.

There it was. A boot, just visible from behind a table that had been flopped on its side to provide some cover. Keeping to a low crouch, Echo crept closer. Only two more steps, then he’d stand up and shoot—he and Omega had picked a movie already—and—

BANG!

The table fell forward, legs sticking up in the air.

Echo jumped, nearly out of his skin and a good foot off the ground.

“It’s not what you think,” Crosshair grumbled, sprawled face down, a long red nerftail just visible behind and under where his neck and shoulder joined.

“Oh?” Echo said, raising his pistol and popping three shots into Crosshair’s back. “Because it looks like Zara got back early and decided to, uh, surprise you.”

“Already dead, idiot.”

From underneath Crosshair, Zara sat up, jerked his rifle to her shoulder, and pulled the trigger twice. She grinned as Echo hacked a cough, the impact of the water blasts on his throat sending him staggering. “Decided to surprise all of you, Cross was just convenient.”

“Hate you,” Crosshair grumbled.

Zara laughed. “And you’ll hate me more when you hear what I picked for movie night, as is my right as the victor!” She bounded to her feet, propped Crosshair’s rifle at shoulder arms on one side and reached down with the other hand to pull the surly sniper to his feet and then into a side hug. “Just admit it, you missed me.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes. “Missed you a little. And I wouldn’t have missed you when I tried to shoot you when you first got here, but you cheated.”

“Using the Force isn’t cheating.”

“It’s kind of cheating.”

“Listen, I can’t turn it off any more than you boys can turn off your enhancements, and we don’t tell Hunter to plug his nose and ears, so kriff off.”

Echo nodded. “You don’t tell her not to use the Force when she’s on your team.”

“Completely different,” Crosshair scoffed.

“Why?” Echo scoffed back.

Crosshair grinned and slung an arm around Zara’s shoulders. “Because I get to pick the movie then.”

“Not tonight!” Zara’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Tonight we watch The Many Adventures of Togo the Tooka!”

[ghostofskywalker]

The Galaxy Can Grant A Second Chance

Hunter/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,083

Summary: You didn't think you would ever see them again, but here they were, and you are forced to face the truth behind why you left all that time ago.

Prompt: "I'm not leaving. Not this time"

Note: this is part of the bad batch xreader exchange, which i ran! my prompt came from @knightprincess, and i had a lot of fun writing it! To the see the other fics in the exchange, check out @cloneficgiftexchange :)

i have not seen any of the bad batch season 3 at this point (my brain is hyperfixated on dimension 20 atm), so this is obviously set prior to that, but of course i like to imagine that crosshair eventually finds his way back to his family <3

Clone Troopers Masterlist

The first time you caught a glimpse of the Bad Batch through the window of the mechanic shop you worked in, you were fully convinced it was a hallucination. There was no way they were here now, it had to be a trick of the mind, a manifestation of some guilt you hadn’t yet processed. 

You had left no trace when you disappeared, there was no way they would be able to find you. 

If you had only seen them once, you might have truly chalked it up to some kind of exhaustion (this job certainly had hours different than you were used to working, along with the added stress of the Empire’s rule over the galaxy), but it happened again. This time hours later, you could see what looked like the back of Tech’s head and Wrecker’s hulking frame pass through the crowds on the street. 

As your stomach dropped, you rushed to the shop’s tiny windows, staring out as people walked along the street, trying to catch a glimpse while also keeping to the shadows. And after a few desperate moments, you felt comfortable confirming it: that the Bad Batch was indeed here, on the surface of Tatooine, and you didn’t know why. 

The note you left was more hurtful than you wished it had to be, but you didn’t want anyone trying to follow you. Did this mean they were actively tracking your movements, that they were risking their cover (and their lives) to find you? Or was this simply something of a coincidence, an unfortunate reality that neither they nor you had any part in? If you were too obvious about your presence, and their reason for being here wasn’t related to your disappearance from their ship, you were now risking everything you fought so hard to protect. The bounty on your head had been (and still was) growing exponentially by the day, and after a while you could no longer ignore it. The Empire had placed a hefty price on your head, and it was clear that they were willing to go to great lengths to get what they wanted, making your mere presence dangerous to anyone you cared about.

It was hard enough leaving in the middle of the night like you did, and you hoped that the forces at work in the galaxy would at least have the decency to allow you to grieve the loss of what could have been in peace, because Maker knows you already had enough guilt in your heart, you certainly didn’t need another reminder of the way in which you gave up the best life you’ve ever had. 

And then you saw him, and your heart stopped for a moment. 

Hunter had always been your favorite, and no, it wasn’t because you found his face tattoo incredibly attractive. The two of you had clicked instantly, and as much as you enjoyed hanging out with his brothers, you had a special connection with him. But the galaxy was nothing if not cruel, and it placed you both in a situation where things would never work out, because if you truly wanted more than just a platonic relationship with him, you would have to live with the fact that you were putting him and his entire family at risk with every second you stayed on that ship. 

Leaving was the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but you knew it was the best option. If something had happened to any of the Bad Batch, you would never be able to forgive yourself, and you would rather see them alive and hating you than the alternative. You thought that peace had already been made, that you finally came to terms with the fact that you lost a gamble on love for the price of keeping them safe, but apparently that wasn’t the case. 

Because here they were, and you were definitely not hallucinating. 

It wasn’t a good idea to keep staring out the window, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop, because this was something you never thought would happen, and therefore had no mental plan in place. 

They were standing across the street, and Omega was scanning her surroundings, as if looking for something. You tried to duck away from the window when you saw her gaze passing by, and you believed that your efforts were mostly successful, but after a while it seemed like she was staring in your shop’s direction more and more. After a few more minutes, you simply ducked away, resigning yourself to begin working on the speeders you had in the back room, because their owners would be coming to pick them up in less than a day, and you hadn’t really done anything yet. 

The day was otherwise eventless, and as the hours passed the feelings of worry, doubt, and anxiety in your stomach started to dissipate. By the time you finished up your repair job on some landspeeders, you thought you might have forgotten what happened this morning.

The bell in your front room jingled, signaling to you that there was someone who needed your help. “I’ll be there in a moment!” you called, quickly finishing up the piece of engine you were installing and grabbing a cloth to mop up the oil stains on your hands (with this line of work dirty hands were expected, but you also didn’t really want to accidentally get some grime on a potential client). 

When you stepped out in the front room, that cloth fell from your hands, and that rock returned to your stomach. 

The entire Bad Batch was standing there, with a full spectrum of expressions on their faces, ones that ranged from calculating (Tech), to smiling (Omega), to nonchalance (Crosshair, who you hadn’t actually met but had seen enough holopictures of to recognize on sight). Hunter stood in the middle of the group, and the look on his face could only be described as a mixture of anger and melancholy. 

You didn’t know what to say. How could you know what to say? How would any combination of words strung together in this moment effectively communicate what you were feeling? 

But it didn’t seem like anyone else was going to say anything, so you had to be the one to break the silence. “Can I help you with something?” You tried to sound professional, but some of your feelings broke through the script. 

Out of everyone standing there, you were shocked to see Crosshair speak up. “We need to have someone look at the central wiring on our droid. Is that something you do here?”

A little surprised at the way he simply inquired about your services, you wondered if the rest of the Batch had not told him about their prior time with you. You thought for a moment before answering. “I specialize more in land vehicles, but I know something about droids, depending on what kind you have. If nothing else, I should be able to take a look at it, and if I don’t have the parts to fix it I probably know someone who does.” 

You had suspicions about what the droid in question would be, because you of course remembered the temperamental gonk droid that also called the Havoc Marauder home. But time has passed since you had last seen them, so you didn’t know for sure if that was what Crosshair was talking about. 

“It’s a GNK-series power droid,” Crosshair said, and you were suddenly aware of all the others’ gazes on you. It was the same droid, but since everyone was acting like they didn’t know who you were, you weren’t going to cause any kind of trouble now. 

“I can definitely take a look at that,” you said, and the rest of the interaction went by in a blur. What felt like moments later you were left alone (after Gonky was brought into your work area), and the room fell silent. A whirlwind of questions spun around in your brain as you searched the rooms of the shop for the parts and tools you would need. 

Did they know you were here before they stepped in the door, or was this all some kind of terrible coincidence? 

If they did know you we here before they walked in, why didn’t anyone say anything? 

And finally, why did the galaxy have to torture you this way? 

Gonky made a noise from the other room, and you just sighed. Of course it wasn’t enough for you to sacrifice your future with Hunter for his (and the rest of his family’s safety), now you had to be reminded of your treachery in what felt like the worst way. 

***

Thankfully you had all the parts necessary to refit Gonky for some new wires, and you communicated that in a message to the Batch, who promised to return in a few hours to pick up the droid. By the time the bells on your door jingled, you thought you were ready to face the people you abandoned once more. 

Until only Hunter stepped through the doorway, a solemn look on his face. 

This time, it was clear he wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t know you. “Why did you leave?”

You stopped what you were doing, thankfully managing to hold onto the wrench in your hands so it didn’t go clattering to the floor. “I told you,” you said softly, not wanting to show any sign of regret, of weakness. You were still being hunted, and until the galaxy was free of the Empire’s hold, you had to be aware of that. Lying to him hurt, but you still believed it to be the only option.

“Two lines of scribble on a piece of flimsi isn’t enough,” he said. “And look, I’ve made my peace with things if you truly didn’t want to be around me anymore, but I need to hear it from you.” 

You opened your mouth, all set to force the lie loose from your throat, but you couldn’t do it. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” you said. “The Empire has put a price on my head, and I couldn’t stomach being the reason that you, any of your brothers, or Omega got caught.”

“Why didn’t you say that?” he asked. 

At this point, it was taking a lot for you not to break. “Because I thought it would be easier, for all of us. Things between you and me were getting more serious, and I knew I wasn’t strong enough to resist if you asked me to stay.” 

You expected him to respond, to say something about how they would protect you, how you would be safer all together, or for him to even to nod, take Gonky, and leave. You didn’t expect him to start laughing. 

“What?” Now you were confused. 

When he finally stopped, your eyebrows were raised. “You know we have a price on our head that’s almost double the one on yours, right?” 

“No, I-” 

But he cut you off. “Maybe it wasn’t when you ran away, but now? We’ve caused a lot of chaos that the Empire isn’t happy about. We’re actually looking for a way to lay low for a while, and since it was an accident running into you here, maybe you could give us some pointers?”

Well, that was one of your questions answered. There was a hopeful edge to his voice that you found yourself falling for, and you thought that even though you had bolted in the middle of the night, you found yourself foolishly hoping that maybe there would still be a future for you, with him. 

“I’ve got a pretty big place here,” you said softly, and the implication was clear. “I wouldn’t mind if you crashed for a while.” 

Things between you wouldn’t fixed in a day, a week, or a month. There was still work to be done if you ever wanted to get back to the way things used to be, and maybe that was impossible. But you were willing to put that work in, to help mend where you had broken when you slipped out of the ship in the dead of night all that time ago. 

“I’d like that,” he said, and the two of you stepped closer to one another, close enough for him to take your hand. “As long as I don’t have to worry about you running away again.” 

You laughed. "I'm not leaving. Not this time"

- the end -

[kybercrystals94]

Teal Paint

Read here on Ao3!

Angstpril 2024 | Day 18 | Prompt 18: Left Behind

Rated: G | Word Count: 1526 | Summary: Memories left behind... | Character Focus: Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Omega, Echo

*some slight spoilers at the very end for Season 3*

Tech finds a reasonably tame city to spend their brief period of downtime between missions. It took several months, but they’ve finally scraped enough credits together, and today is the day. The streets are crowded with evening traffic, the Batch walking close together to avoid being separated.

“Did you know,” Tech says, informatively, “that facial tattoos are among the most painful, depending on the location on the face?” 

“Thanks, Tech,” Hunter grumbles, “that’s really helpful.” 

“You’re not going to talk us out of it,” Crosshair adds resolutely.

Wrecker nods. “Yeah, we’re gonna do it no matter what you say, Tech!” 

Tech huffs. “On the contrary, I’m quite eager to observe the process. I just believe that being well informed is beneficial when making a life altering decision.” 

“Maker, Tech, getting a tattoo isn’t life altering,” Crosshair says. 

“It’s awesome!” Wrecker declares. “You should get one too, Tech.” 

“I prefer modifications that can be modified,” Tech retorts.

Crosshair leans close to Wrecker, puts his hand up to shield his mouth from Tech, and loudly whispers, “He’s too scared.” 

“That is not true.” 

“Aww, Techie’s scared,” Wrecker crows, throwing an arm around Tech. “I can hold your hand, be brave for the both of us.” 

Tech tries to extract himself from Wrecker’s grip. “I am not scared! I have stated my reasoning clearly and concisely. Fear has nothing to do with it.” 

Hunter rubs his hand across the left side of his face, a fist of apprehension balling up in the pit of his stomach. He isn’t having second thoughts, he’s almost positive that he’ll be happy with the results. He and Crosshair spent hours with a pad of flimsi sketching and scheming. Crosshair wanted something subtle, meaningful, a reflection of himself. Hunter, to his brothers’ surprise, wanted something bold. A statement. Memorable. Of the Batch, he most resembles, in appearance and speech, a reg. But he is no more a reg than any other member of his squad. He might not be able to easily change his facial structure or vocal pattern; however, inking half his face with the dark contour of a skull seems like a good start. 

“What do you think?” Crosshair asked, holding up the sketch he’d made of Hunter. 

Hunter grinned, taking the pad and admiring the simple lined likeness to himself, the skull motif shadowed deeply with graphite. He loved it. It was perfect. Exactly as he’d imagined it. “Looks good,” he told his brother.

Wrecker, at the last minute, decided that he also wants a tattoo, although his ideas are scattered and untethered to any sort of theme. Even as they approach the tattoo parlor, he is still undecided, claiming that it is going to be a surprise. 

“A tattoo is permanent,” Tech tells Wrecker again, having resigned himself to being tucked under Wrecker’s arm for the remainder of their trek. “You should at least have some sort of idea.” 

“I do,” Wrecker says, “My idea is that it will be the coolest tattoo in the entire galaxy.” 

“That is not an idea,” Tech sighs. 

At Tech’s direction, they turn off on a side street, the crowds petering off the further they walk. It doesn’t exactly feel like a bad part of town; however, it is less kept, the buildings showing their age and wear. Hunter is beginning to wonder if Tech got them lost when they turn another corner and a neon sign blinks the word “TATTOOS” at them, the flashing light practically searing into Hunter’s retinas. 

“They should get a brighter sign,” Crosshair snarks, “we almost missed it.” 

They step inside, and find the business deserted except for a human who stands up from a chair behind the counter. He is covered in colorful ink, his natural pigment completely lost under the tapestry of mismatched designs across every inch of his exposed skin. 

“Now that must’ve hurt,” Wrecker mutters to Tech, but he might as well have screamed it from the rooftops. 

Tech rolls his eyes. 

The man smiles, flashing white teeth. “Only hurts ‘til the pain goes away.”

“Naturally,” Tech agrees sardonically.

“I’m gonna guess you lot are here for some ink,” the man says. 

“They are, I am not,” Tech replies quickly. “I am here to observe.” 

“Not a fan of needles, huh?” the man asks. 

Tech opens his mouth to deny the accusation, but Wrecker gasps out, “Wait, needles?” 

Crosshair groans. “We went over this, Wrecker.”

“Yeah, well” Wrecker says, “it sounds different the way he says it.” 

“How?” 

Wrecker heaves his broad shoulders in a shrug. “I’ll just wait on my tattoo. Until I think of something good, ya know?”

Crosshair steps around Wrecker and jerks his head in Hunter’s direction. “He and I are getting tattoos. These are what we want.” He pulls two pieces of flimsi from his pocket with their chosen designs, pushing them across the counter. 

The man takes them, looking over the details. “Straightforward and to the point. I like that. C’mon around and we’ll get started.”

Hunter takes a deep breath. 

He’s not turning back now. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Hunter and Crosshair decide to add to their armor to coordinate with their new tattoos. The next time they’re on Kamino, they find their leftover paint and set to work, Tech and Wrecker joining them. Inspired by Hunter’s new half skull tattoo, they decide to incorporate the symbol into all of their armor in some way. 

“So help me, Wrecker, if you tip over another can of paint…” Crosshair mutters, snatching up the at-risk bucket from Wrecker’s proximity. 

Wrecker is sprawled out on their barrack’s floor, taking up far more than his fair share of space. His paint brush flicks up, sending a spray of heavy duty white across the room. 

“You’re cleaning that up,” Tech says from his place at the table.

“No one will notice,” Wrecker assures them. “Maybe they’ll look like clean spots!”

Hunter sighs. “That’s not a good thing, Wreck.” 

Wrecker ignores the comment, instead dropping his paintbrush onto the tray Tech ordered him to use and holding up his helmet. “What do you think? It’s a skull.” 

“Not a human skull,” Tech points out. 

Wrecker shakes his head. “Human skulls are boring.” 

“There’s supposed to be red on your helmet somewhere,” Crosshair gripes. 

Wrecker reaches over and plucks Crosshair’s fine tipped paint brush out of his hand, the bristles still dripping red paint. Crosshair sputters a curse as Wrecker happily begins painting with the stolen utensil. 

“Hunter!” Crosshair cries, “Tell Wrecker to give it back.” 

 Hunter doesn’t even look up from his work. “Let’s share our toys like big kids,” he coos, earning a chuckle from Tech. 

“I’m gonna give it back in a second,” Wrecker says. “Almost done.” 

Crosshair growls something rude in Huttese. 

“There!” Wrecker says, tossing the brush back at Crosshair, the sniper catching it from the wrong end, paint staining the palm of his glove. Wrecker turns his helmet again to the room. “See? It’s perfect.” 

The number 99 is brandished across the forehead of his helmet in dripping red. 

“Subtle as usual, Wrecker,” Tech says. 

Wrecker grins. “Thanks!” 

Hunter sits back and admires his own helmet’s new design, carefully imitating his inked face. It’s exactly how he imagined it. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

“I like this color,” Omega says, pointing at a swatch of teal paint. “Oh, and this orange is nice.” 

Tech glances at Hunter, clearly questioning the decision to let Omega choose their new armor colors. Hunter shrugs. At least it will look…different. Which is exactly what they want. 

“What about this one?” Wrecker asks, pointing at the yellow swatch.

“Yes! I like that one too!” Omega cries. 

They purchase the three cans of paint and some brushes before heading back to the Marauder. Omega is beside herself with excitement. “Do you think the paint will work on my helmet?” she asks. 

“Sure, kid, ‘course it will,” Wrecker says cheerfully. 

“I’m gonna use orange on mine, then,” Omega says. 

That evening, spread out under the Marauder’s wing, the Batch set about repainting their armor. Wrecker can’t bear the thought of covering up the skull on his helmet, so he settles for removing the bright 99 from it instead, sanding it down and repainting the area white. With Omega’s help, he uses orange and yellow to accent the rest of his armor pieces. 

Tech and Echo decide to monopolize the orange paint, leaving very little to Hunter. With a sigh, he picks up the teal paint, and pries it open. Omega beams at him. “I think that will be a very nice color on you,” she tells him sincerely, and suddenly, the color doesn’t seem so bad. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

“All the armor’s been stripped. But we’re still not gonna blend in,” Echo says, tossing Hunter his helmet. 

The colors of his past lives have been removed with finality. He knows it is necessary; however, he can’t help but feel the pang of loss as he stares at the familiar piece of himself he’s had for so long, devoid of the visible memories lingering like ghosts behind him. 

Maybe they’ll paint their armor again, when all of this is over. 

If they all make it back. 

END

@the-little-moment and @just-here-with-my-thoughts 🥳 I can't believe we've only got 4 more stories/chapters each to go!

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @merkitty49

[badbatchsprincess]

Heated ~ pt.21

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11 ~ Pt.12 ~ Pt.13 ~ Pt.14 ~ Pt.15 ~ Pt.16 ~ Pt.17 ~ Pt.18 ~ Pt.19 ~ Pt.20 ~

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake. 

Warnings: Smut! Short chapter my b.

IM NOT DEAD!!! woooo! Sorry there's been such a big break from my posting but I'm going to get back into finishing up this story and getting our precious pip back to her pack. Don't worry! And thanks to everyone sending messages and commenting you make my day and really help me stay encouraged to write. So thank you!

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, gazing at the somewhat hollow figure of yourself. 

The monstrous silver collar weighed heavily on your spirit and collarbones. 

You traced your fingers over the indents where you had used a butter knife in a futile attempt to pry it off. Stolen from the mess, of course—it had been confiscated immediately. (Imperials are no fun.)

This followed the explosive outburst after that dreadful meeting in Tarkin’s office. 

The fight you put up required multiple troopers to pin you down, with the help of Crosshair to calm you as they forced this constricting collar onto you. Your screams had echoed throughout the entire base like the roar of a Zillo beast.

That was two days ago.

You didn’t even have the strength to get out of bed. It was so dehumanizing to be reduced to this… breeding stock? 

You didn’t know. 

You couldn’t think about it without feeling sick to your stomach. It made you itch with rage. The fantasies of murdering Tarkin were becoming more gruesome by the hour.

The 104th tried to visit, but you just curled up in bed, trying not to cry. Their voices and concern only reminded you of the 501st. You did your best to stifle your grief. They left with forlorn expressions and a curt shrug from Crosshair when they asked when you’d come out again.

Crosshair tried to nudge you out of bed, but you just burrowed deeper into the blankets, determined to remain in solitude. He sighed and left you be, feeling your despair through the bond.

Now, here you stood in your apartment bathroom, wearing Crosshair’s clothing, poking at the reminder of your purpose here. 

Your neck was raw from tugging at the collar; Crosshair had smeared bacta on the open sores that morning, and you looked at the red healing lines. 

You were suddenly overcome with the need for your other alphas. You craved the security they provided. Even when you were on the run, doing strange jobs for Cid, you felt secure with them. 

You missed their warmth, their hands, their pleasure… your home. You just wanted to scent them again, curl up in your nest, and never leave.

You looked back in the mirror and ran your fingers over the Aurebesh engraved in the metal:

“Property of CT-9904.”

You stared into your own empty eyes and decided enough was enough. The Imperials were winning if they could break you.

Fascist fucks. 

You took a deep breath and steadied yourself, willing your spirit to lift. 

Enough moping. 

It’s time to fight.

Grabbing the leather tie belt from the counter, you wrapped it around the large shirt, tying it at the waist to resemble Jedi robes. Then you pushed yourself away from the sink and turned toward the main living space. You grabbed a pair of slippers, hit the door lock, and stepped out into the hallway, making your way to the training center.

Crosshair had been ordered to track down your pack and had to pretend nothing was different. His new team of stormtroopers were inexperienced and desperately needed Crosshair’s knowledge if they were going after the Bad Batch. He had been working with them for the past few days, preparing them for this high-risk mission.

It wasn’t long before the security detail filed in behind you, following Tarkin’s orders. Two 104th infantry men flanked both sides, keeping a respectful distance but serving as a reminder that you couldn’t run far without being caught. You chose to ignore that last detail, but whatever.

Omegas and Alphas pressed themselves against the walls to let you pass. This was the one change you noticed drastically since your little show in the cafeteria and your grand escape from the facility. You were not an omega to be trifled with. You noticed the other omegas didn’t dare meet your gaze. Good. Stay away.

You had a reputation to uphold.

Descending the metal stairs, you floated down the corridor to the training rooms. Inside were endless rows of workout equipment for the regs, but more importantly, the open training mat where Crosshair was running drills with his new squadron. He sensed you immediately and gave you a discerning glance before turning his attention back to his men. However, you scented the alpha you were looking for. On the viewing platform, Wolffe sat watching Crosshair in silence. You filed in next to him, sitting down in acknowledgment.

“It’s good you’re up,” he said, keeping his gaze fixed ahead.

You sighed. “Can’t let them win. Not even the small things.”

He nodded. “You’re right.”

You nodded in return. “Did it work?” he asked.

You nodded again. “Light turned green. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Good.” He smirked. “I heard all about it from my men.”

You stifled a laugh.

“You would have made a remarkable Republic spy,” Wolffe joked. “Missed opportunity.”

You hummed.

“So, you really had a thing with a reg?” Wolffe asked, turning to face you and leaning back on the bench.

“It was a long time ago,” you said, giving him a sidelong glance.

“Didn’t think regs were your type,” he gestured toward Crosshair with his chin.

“It wasn’t a relationship. Just an… understanding,” you explained.

“I get it.” Wolffe smirked, clearly remembering something fondly. “We may be clones, but we’re still men. Alphas at that… The Republic had a pretty big budget for bunker bunnies.”

You whipped your head around, wide-eyed.

“What?” he laughed. “Your boys didn’t tell you?”

You gawked. “No!”

He snorted. “Yeah, every permanent base, and sometimes they’d bring in a ship for extended encampments.”

You were floored. You had no idea. Then you looked at Crosshair, trying to picture shiny Cross, Hunter, Wrek, Tech, and Echo experiencing that for the first time. You giggled, knowing there was probably some trauma related to that topic.

“What?” Wolffe was amused with your musing. 

“I’m just thinking about my pack. Oh god. I can’t believe all of the 501st was getting down like that and I had no idea.” You buried your face in your hands and laughed. 

Wolffe laughed too, “You really didn’t know?” 

“No!” You shook your head, “I thought quarterlies was like random people!” 

Wolffe snorted, “No darling, there was a special sector just for the girls back in Coruscant. They had the whole floor to themselves. Hundreds of omegas.” 

You squealed, “Oh my god.” 

“Ya know, I recall seeing Echo and Crosshair there a lot now that I think about it. Even your Sergeant a few times I think.” 

If your jaw could hit the floor it would. 

“Yeah. They liked to pop the shinys early. Get them accustomed to being around omegas at an early stage. Nothing worse than the first rut ya know?” 

“And Kamino?” You scrunched your brows. 

“Yeah thats where the first ruts happen.” Wolffe said like it was obvious. 

“Maker.” You shook your head. Images of your pack loosing their virginity flooded your mind. You felt Crosshair’s curiosity spike the bond. He was probably wondering what had you feeling like that. You could feel his eyes on you from across the room.

“Is that not common for nat borns?” He asked curiously. 

“No Commander, it’s not.” You shook your head, “You usually just have it happen naturally, most go through the first heat alone. Then when you’re an adult you might find a partner.” 

“Hmm.” He pondered. 

You were overcome with images of a young Tech trying to understand his alpha instincts. Probably fumbling around confused… poor baby. You shook your head. 

Oh god… Hunter… poor thing with his hyperdrive senses. That must have been so overwhelming the first few times. 

Then you thought of Crosshair. There was no way young Crosshair was ever awkward. He probably knew exactly what to do from the start… that man was too cocky to be anything else. 

You knew he was a whore from the get go… you giggled to yourself.

You’ll never forget that time on one of your first missions with the batch, you saw the way he finessed an omega into banging in a bar bathroom with such ease. It had your mind reeling for days after that. 

You remembered having to rub one out in the marauder fresher to take the edge off after imagining him with that omega for hours. He had come back looking throughly fucked. His hair was mused, his skin glowing from sweat, and the strong alpha scent radiating off of him made the whole ship reek of Crosshair. The others carried on with dinner as usual but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. That’s when your thoughts about your squad had started, actually. 

The thought made your body suddenly warm. 

Wolffe must have sensed your smell change as he peered at you softly. 

“Excuse me.” You said standing and walking towards the mat directly at your mate. Your guards stayed behind with their Commander while Crosshair ordered his squad to keep practicing their drills while he tailed after you. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked as you lead him over between a row of punching bags. 

You just grabbed this hand and slapped the door panel dragging him into the nearest supply closet and shutting the door behind you. 

The lights fluttered on as he peered down at you, confused by your sudden behavior. 

You felt your heart quicken seeing him in his all matte black imperial amor. It felt so wrong to be turned on by it but, damn did he look good. So tall, so masculine. So… Alpha. 

“What, omega?” His voice dropped an octave sensing your becoming flustered through the bond.

You looked up at him meeting his steely gaze. You felt your core pulse, “Echo said you all had developed feelings for me when I first transferred, but I never told you when it happened for me.” You felt your chest starting to heave trying to keep up with your sudden rush of arousal. 

His smell was crowding you in a delicious way, like a warm embrace. 

He narrowed his eyes at you and backed you slowly into the near by shelves feeling your pulsing through the bond. He could feel your desperation to cum. He could almost smell it. 

He raised a brow playfully. 

“Remember when we were on Nal Hutta picking up that weapons supply from that shady dealer?” You recounted feeling the steel shelving pressing up against your spine. 

“And you had tripped and fell into the baby sarlac hole?” His memory clearly differs from yours. 

You nodded, “My shoe had been chewed up and the others left you and me in that bar while they hunted down a pair of new boots for me?” 

“Always loosing your shoes huh ad’ika?” He smirked and joked.

“You picked up that omega at the bar.” 

He narrowed his eyes not sure where this was going but listened regardless. 

You panted feeling the heat radiating through the bond and the wetness growing in your panties, “When you finally found your way back to the marauder, I had finished up dinner with the others… You smelled so good and you looked so different. And after knowing what you were doing…”  You remembered the rush of heat that had flooded your cheeks that night. 

Crosshair ran a finger lightly along your jaw making you shudder against the shelves. 

“What about it, omega?” He trailed his fingers to your cheek where he rubbed your skin softly. He could feel the heat in your cheeks now. It made his trousers tighten. 

“Something had changed. I couldn’t get your scent out of my mind. I had to finger myself in the fresher just to get to sleep.” You admitted with a whisper. 

He flashed you his teeth in a wicked smile, “That wasn’t even two weeks after you transferred.” 

“I know.” You sighed as his hands ran down your sides spreading their strong warmth making you purr and flex into his touch. 

“You’ve been imagining me fucking you for all that time?” He asked reaching around to squeeze your bum. You mewled and reached for his breast plate. He slotted his leg between yours pinning your hips to the shelf. 

You nodded. 

“Poor thing.” He whispered. 

“I didn’t ever take advantage of quarterlies because I didn’t want anyone else.” You sighed into his lips. 

“You already knew you belonged to us ad’ika.” He claimed. 

You nodded pathetically. 

“Every mission. Every time you’d come back covered in mud or blaster residue.” You whimpered grinding yourself down onto his leg, “I felt bad hoping you’d need me to patch you up. I just liked being able to scent you.” 

He guided your hips up and down his thigh. You bit your bottom lip holding back your moans. 

“Why did you tell me this now?” He asked adding more pressure to your core watching your face scrunch up as the pleasure was bleeding into your system. 

“I just remembered.” You whimpered, “Then it made me horny again.” 

He chuckled, “It’s your heat coming love.” 

You groaned as a particularly nice ridge rubbed up against you, “Fuck.” Your head slumped against his shoulder. He used a hand to grab your hip helping to guide you along his thigh. 

“Why do you have to look so good in that?” You mumbled. 

“In what, love?” 

“The armor.” You whimpered leaning up to look at him with bleary eyes. 

He smiled and leaned down to kiss you. You moaned deepening the kiss desperately feeling your orgasm starting to approach. 

“You like it, huh?” He smirked pressing kisses to your forehead while he pushed your hips down harder against him. He loved the way you twitched and squirmed under his hands.

You nodded suddenly feel the crest of your orgasm. 

Then it all stopped. You whined as Crosshair pulled away only for a moment before flipping you around harshly and bending you over a stack of near by shipping crates. You gripped onto the cool steel as he flipped up the bottom of his shirt you were wearing and yanked your panties to the side before shoving his joggers down and pulling out his leaking cock. 

You bucked up against him feeling his tip rub through your folds. You let out a pathetic whimper as he continued to gather your slick… too slow for your liking. 

“Alp-“ you were cut off as he surged forwards filling you to the absolute brim. 

You both sighed feeling each other so closely and you tried your best to grind back against him but he continued on pinning you to the crates to create a steady rhythm with his hips. 

“You were always such a good little medic, cyar’ika.” He praised, “I also would be a little reckless sometimes just so I could feel your hands on me.” He ran his hand up your spine to your neck where he fisted the hair at your nape, “We all did.” 

He chuckled thrusting a little harder making you yelp, “Our little omega.” 

“Cross.” You whined pushing back against him. The need to come was all consuming and he, like the good alpha he is, could seem to feel it through the bond. He reached down between your legs and starting making circles against your clit making you jump from the pleasure. 

“Fuck.” You moaned barking down feeling the crest approaching. You also felt Crosshair start to tense up letting you know he was close. His energy was thrumming through the bond intensifying your own sensations making it nearly unbearable. 

Then finally, with a pinched yelp, you bit your lip harshly as you came. 

“Good girl.” He praised into your ear. 

You slumped against the shelves, letting him hold you up as you regained your footing. With the urge to mate now abated, you began to return to normal.

“It’s coming soon,” you said, looking up at Crosshair with worried eyes.

“I’d be lying if I said I wished we had more time,” he sighed, nuzzling your head. “My brothers will need enough time to make a plan.”

“They can do it, though, right?” You wondered, suddenly feeling skeptical.

“They can do it,” he said confidently. “I just don’t know how we can be ready.”

You nodded, understanding his concern. It was frustrating being on the inside and having no idea what was going on.

A ping broke the silence, making both you and Crosshair look down at his com.

“Nala Se wants you in her lab,” Crosshair said, sounding resigned.

You took a deep breath. This couldn’t be good.

“Try not to fight her,” Crosshair sighed, petting your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

“You’re not coming?” you asked, suddenly filled with anxiety.

“Only if you want me to.”

“I do.”

He nodded and then tilted his head toward the door.

You exited first, grabbing onto Crosshair’s arm as he walked the two of you to the lab. Fortunately, the walk was quick and short. Nala Se’s office was just inside the infirmary, where a few regs were getting their check-ups. A couple of mating bites were being cleaned and treated, while others had come in for deep scratches down their backs. Clearly, the regs had been busy.

It didn’t escape your notice that every single one of them turned to look as you passed by. Crosshair’s presence was intimidating enough, but they couldn’t help but be curious about his mate. You could smell their scents spike as you walked past, clearly intrigued by your unique smell. Some even tipped their noses up to get a better whiff.

Crosshair approached the private lab and opened the door, allowing you to step inside and leave the room of wandering eyes behind you.

“Y/N,” Nala Se’s floating voice made you tense.

You stared at her, keeping your grip on Crosshair.

Crosshair looked down at you before addressing Nala Se. “What did you need my mate for?”

“She’s been ordered to have her remaining birth control dissolved in anticipation of her upcoming heat.”

You couldn’t help but lean a little closer to your mate, feeling your anxiety increase.

“Shouldn’t it just dissolve on its own?” Crosshair questioned. “I’d like to avoid putting her through more stress than she’s already had.”

“While I would normally agree, these orders have come from the Admiral,” Nala Se explained. “He wants to be certain she’s fertile.”

Crosshair looked down at you again. Knowing you both had to go through with this, he gently nudged you forward, and you climbed up onto the exam table. Crosshair stayed close, while Nala Se prepared the injector.

You nuzzled into Crosshair’s chest, and he soothed you with gentle back rubs. You felt Nala Se approach and press the injector to the implant site. With a quick jab, the dissolver was administered, and you felt the cooling medication spread under your skin. You flinched slightly when she pulled away, and Crosshair quickly nuzzled your cheek to keep you still. A small badge was applied, and then you were effectively dismissed.

“Once her heat begins, we will need to be informed,” Nala Se reminded you as you practically yanked Crosshair out of the lab.

In mere seconds, your scenting abilities came to life. Everything around you seemed to brighten. Crosshair’s heady scent enveloped you, followed by the unmistakable smell of regs. It was overstimulating.

You winced as you entered the infirmary. Crosshair noticed and knelt down to get a good look at your wild eyes, sensing your panic through the bond.

“Is it happening?” he asked, looking worried.

You shook your head. “No, no. I just… I can smell everything.”

“Let’s get you back,” Crosshair said, standing.

“Actually, I require your mate for one other test,” Nala Se said, appearing with her holo pad.

“It can’t wait?” Crosshair snarled.

You patted him gently on the shoulder, reminding him to stay calm and that you were okay.

You followed the long-necked alien back into her office, letting Crosshair remain at the door like a glorified bodyguard.

“I require a sample of your DNA,” Nala Se explained, leaving you to stand in the middle of the sterile white office.

“Blood?” you asked.

“Yes,” she blinked before grabbing her tool.

You held out your hand, letting her draw blood from your palm.

“Why are you doing this, Nala Se?” you questioned, watching her take your sample and not the sequencer. “Why would you help these people?”

“The Empire destroyed my home, and they’re threatening my loved ones,” she deadpanned. “I’m not here of my own volition.”

You were shocked she answered at all. You had always thought she agreed to help because of the money promised to the Kaminoans by the Republic. You had no idea they had destroyed everything. You didn’t know she was a prisoner herself.

You nodded. “Then that makes two of us.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Sorry this chapter is so short. I'm getting back into the swing of writing with my schedule, and according to my outline this was going to be a short/filler chapter anyways. Buttttt don't worry I'll be posting more regularly again.

Taglist: @substantial-exposure

@rains-on-kamino

@minimissmoo

@z-and-the-batboys

@aynavaano

@9902sgirl

@sideofhorny

@sxftiebee

@booksandtitts-blog

@subbing-for-clones

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Congrats with the followers! You deserve it! May I request Demi Lovato’s “Catch Me” with Hunter?

Hello anon!

Thank you so much for the congrats and for the request. You're too sweet.

I hope you love what I did with Demi Lovato's "Catch Me".

Love oo.

Catch Me

Warnings: Unrequited love, one night stand, implied coitus, pushing away, angst, brief mention of Order 66, tenderness, longing, declaration of feelings. I think that's it, if I miss anything please let me know.

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

Hunter was always making it difficult for you. 

It wasn’t on purpose, but everything he did kept drawing your eyes. 

It was the little things he did, the smile he always greeted you with in the mornings. The fact he always saved you a seat so you could be close to the fire when you guys were on missions. The way he checked up on you, it was just making it easier for you to keep falling for him. 

You couldn’t let yourself fall. No, if you did, it would only cause heartache. 

Yet, somehow you ended up here, sneaking out of his quarters after you both had too much to drink. It had been a mistake to have a night of passion with the Sergeant of your unit. You were their medic, a civilian contract. You shouldn’t be here, you quietly got dressed and exited his quarters as fast as you could, heading to your own room. 

It was days later when Hunter finally confronted you. 

“Listen, please!” Hunter cornered you on the Marauder, the guys had left already to secure the perimeter, “I’m sorry if I overstepped. If I … I wasn’t good enough …”

Your eyes widened, is that what he had thought this entire time? You shook your head, rubbing your forehead, “No. It’s not …” you let out a loud sigh, as you tried to find the best way to explain this, “Hunter it’s not what you think. It’s not because …” your face heated as you thought about that night, you cleared your throat focusing back on the here and now, “Trust me, Hunter, you were very good. It’s just - - you and I both know this can’t go anywhere.”

“Why not?”

“Can you see any future where this could work? I mean let’s be serious. It was a fun night, but we should forget it ever happened.”

“What if I don’t want to forget it?”

“Hunter, be logical for a minute. What’s going to happen? Either you realize I’m not what you want, I get transferred to another unit, or something worse happens. Let’s just say we had a fun night and move on.”

Hunter didn’t respond, he simply put his helmet back on and stormed off the Marauder. You leaned against the wall, your heart clenching as you watched him walk away. There was no future here, you reminded yourself. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, it would’ve killed you knowing the future you had thought of would never come true. 

You followed behind him shortly, and even though you wanted to move on, to stop feeling so completely hypnotized by him, you couldn’t stop falling for him even in this moment. 

The following weeks passed by faster than you thought it had been possible, it felt like you were constantly in hyper speed, and before you knew everything turned on its head, once Order 66 was issued. 

Now months later, you were all on the run. Crosshair had joined the Empire. Omega ran away with you, and you somehow fell even harder for Hunter than you had previously thought possible. 

You sat outside of the Marauder as you looked up to the night sky, you needed to clear your head, despite the fact you ended it before it even began your heart still clung to Hunter. 

As much as that worried, you had bigger worries now, it’d been a few months you all started working for Cid. You didn’t trust her, but there weren’t a lot of options for work; so you all were making the best out of a somewhat bad situation. Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a blanket draped around your shoulders. You looked up to see Hunter smile as he took a seat beside you.

“Didn’t want you to catch a cold.”

“Thanks.”

Even though that night was almost a year ago, things were still somewhat awkward between you two.

“What were you thinking about?”

You turned to look at Hunter, remembering how soft his lips felt, how strong his hands were… you closed your eyes and turned back to look at the fire pushing that one night out of your mind, “How I don’t trust Cid. We need to get out of this arrangement as soon as possible.”

“Nothing we can do about that right now.”

“I know. Story of our lives.” You let out a huff of irritation.

“What do you mean?” Hunter turned to look at you, ever since that one night he had with you his heart had never been the same. You had a hold on him that nothing short of death would release him. He tried to steal as many glances of you as possible, wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms again. 

“We never seem to be able to do the things we want to.”

He nodded as he moved subtly closer to you, wanting to feel your heat even if it was from a distance that kept you away from him. “Maybe, but I’m willing to try and figure things out.”

You turned to look at him, “What?” He couldn’t mean what you were hoping, because if he was going to say the one thing you wanted to hear, all you could pray for was that he wouldn’t break you.

He smiled as he reached over and plucked off a leaf that was stuck to your head, “I’m saying, I don’t want to say goodbye. I don’t want this to unravel. I want to be the one that catches you.” He leaned his lips close to yours, “I’m saying, I love you.”

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal @crosshair-is-the-superior-clone @totallyunidentified @griffedeloup @leotatombs @leotawrites

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

What Needs to Be Done

Summer of Bad Batch | Week 13 | Prompt: Crashing Hard

Summary: Crosshair was so sure he made the right choice, the only choice... But now he has doubts.

POV: Crosshair

Rating: PG

(Word Count: 650)

Notes: I've been wanting to delve more into what Crosshair might have gone through in season 2 before "The Outpost," especially since I think his confession to Hunter of "I've done things. I've made mistakes" refers to far more than just the Imperial missions we saw him on. I might expand on this storyline in the future; for now, here's a short little ficlet since there's only so much Crosshair angst I can write at the moment.

"CT-9904, report to Captain Dask for your next mission."

The operation involved relocating the inhabitants of Quwan to an Imperial holding facility to await the construction of a factory on their homeworld, a factory they would man in service to the Empire. Those who did not appreciate the opportunity, those who resisted, were not given a second chance, and so the people learned very quickly not to resist. The families cried as their homes were burned to make way for the factory; the children cried as they were hustled onto ships by armed troopers. Crosshair had completed operations very similar to this before; but for some reason, this time he heard Hunter's voice echoing through his mind: Crosshair, I've seen what the Empire's doing, occupying planets and silencing anyone who stands against them. You know it's not right.

But it didn't matter what he thought was right. "Good soldiers follow orders," he thought to himself, though the words had started to grow stale. "We do what needs to be done," he repeated like a mantra, drowning out the memory of Hunter's plea.

******

He heard the rumors, whispers about an attack on Rampart's Venator, intel extracted that proved instrumental in causing Rampart's demise. The Defense Recruitment Bill was passed, but Rampart was gone. And while no one had been able to ID the infiltration team, Crosshair listened to the details of the attack, and he knew who had done it. "They were fools, they won't let themselves see the bigger picture," he told himself, ignoring the painful wrenching in his gut at the reminder of his old squad, though the traitorous thought crossed his mind that he wished he had been with them, wished he was with his brothers now.

******

"Three CTs have gone AWOL and were recently spotted in the market district," the lieutenant addressed the hand-picked squad. "You are to apprehend them. One chance to surrender, one chance only. That is all."

"Traitors," he scoffed to himself, pushing down his unease upon learning that the CTs in question had been part of his detachment during their most recent operation on Vurun. He knew nothing about them, they hadn't even spoken to him the entire mission... so why did he worry about what he might have to do? And why did wish he could have left too? Going AWOL was pointless; they were tracked down soon enough.

"Traitor," he thought again, carefully aiming as one of them tried to run, though his finger trembled on the trigger...

Cody weighed on his mind, haunted his dreams for weeks afterwards...

******

He waited outside the ship preparing to depart for Barton IV; there was no point standing any longer than he had to inside the ship with all the other clones who always ignored him. A group of unarmored clones passed by, questioning an Imperial officer about forced retirement. He knew more clones were being decommissioned, but he wasn't concerned. That wouldn't happen to him. He was useful to the Empire. He had purpose as a soldier.

And he tried not to think about the long years stretching before him, serving as a soldier until the day he died, no friends, brothers gone, all alone.

******

Mayday.

Gone.

He had served as a soldier until the day he died, had outlasted most of his friends, all his brothers gone, and the lieutenant was now ordering Crosshair to leave him... to leave him all alone.

Crosshair had believed the Empire offered him purpose.

He didn't believe it anymore.

"Lieutenant," Crosshair said, the only warning he was willing to give.

He released all his anger and doubts as he avenged Mayday, and suddenly found that this release had sapped all his strength, sapped all his belief in purpose, and he collapsed, no longer caring what happened to him.

I... It needed to be done, was his final thought as the darkness closed in around him.

@summer-of-bad-batch

[floral-force]

the relationship headcanons with the bad batch were so cute, could i also request some more cuddling headcanons with the bad batch x reader? :33

I'm so glad you liked the relationship hcs!! that was my first time writing anything for the batch and I was so happy to see so many people loving it. I hope you enjoy these as well!

(requests are open! search the tags #prompt requests or #prompts and send me an ask!)

The Bad Batch x Reader Cuddling Headcanons

warnings: my blog is 18+ ONLY, no minors. some light innuendo sprinkled throughout, but not entirely NSFW. mention of trauma and body dysmorphia.

masterlist | navigation | join the taglist

Crosshair x You

He is initially uneasy about cuddling, especially when he feels tired. It leaves him vulnerable and somewhat defenseless, which he doesn't like.

So, it'll take a little coaxing for this feral cat uneasy man to release his anxiety.

That looks like you asking him to sit next to your bunk and stroke your forehead until you fall asleep so he can stay awake and alert, and slowly moving to him reclining in your bunk while you curl up next to him.

Crosshair really loves watching you slowly drift off into sleep, though. He won't admit it--not right away--but he smiles at your sleepy face and gentle snores.

After countless nights of this routine, he finally lays down next to you and tugs you against his chest, his back facing the door so he can protect you with his body in case of an emergency.

The man is a furnace. If you wear long sleeves and/or long pants, you'll wake up a little sweaty.

He's just as possessive in sleep as he is while awake; he falls asleep holding you and never lets go until he starts to wake up.

Crosshair will press a kiss to the back of your head just before nodding off whether you're asleep or awake; it's his quiet promise of protection and the last lowering of his defenses.

Echo x You

He would avoid cuddling for a little while. He holds a lot of trauma and struggles with body dysmorphia, and he believes you'll be repulsed by him.

This couldn't be further from the truth, and you remind him of how handsome, powerful, incredible, and attractive he is.

At first--like Crosshair--he'll just hold your hand and sit next to your bunk as you fall asleep. If you ask him, he'll talk to you a bit.

You never push him to do more than what he's comfortable with and give him a big smile when he does something outside of his comfort zone.

He asks what you like regarding cuddling, and you ask what he'd be comfortable with. This communication matters to him and makes him feel safe when he finally decides to slip into your bunk and let you rest your head on his chest.

Echo prefers to have you on his left side so he can wrap his arm around you and stroke your arm with his hand.

He's never gotten better sleep in his life. Cuddling you knocks him out within 20 minutes.

Whenever he has nightmares and they wake you up, you'll snuggle even closer into him, wrap one of your legs around his, and stroke his cheek with your thumb. Your warmth instantly soothes him. Over time, he'll start to wake you up (if you aren't up already) for comfort.

Hunter x You

He is a huge fan of cuddling, actually. You weren't expecting it, but it makes sense given how protective and secretly soft he is.

Hunter loves spooning and being the big spoon. Holding you tight against his chest, getting to inhale your scent as he falls asleep, hearing your breathing slow...

He loves how he makes you feel safe enough to fall asleep in his arms; it's like the ultimate sign of affection from you in his eyes. It means almost as much as saying "I love you" to him.

Whenever you're sick, injured, or just feeling down, he'll tell you to rest your head on his chest. He'll wrap an arm around you while the other holds your hand over his heart, and tells you to focus on his voice and heart beat.

It always makes his heart warm when you fall asleep like that.

Omega has snuck into bed with both of you at times after she's had a nightmare and needs comfort. You'll both adjust so hunter is laying on his back, you snuggled on one side and Omega on the other, an arm around each of you.

There was one instance where Hunter asked to be the little spoon. He'd had a nightmare about watching each member of the Batch die, including you, and was so upset that he needed you to hold him.

You whispered nice things and promises to him, embracing him as much as you could and pressing kisses into his back and the shoulder he wasn't laying on. Hunter loves it and has peaceful sleep the rest of the night.

Tech x You

He's not a huge fan of cuddling. He prefers his own space and is a light sleeper, so any sudden movements can wake him up and he might not be able to fall back asleep.

Tech tells you he wants to try to ease into cuddling with you since he loves your hugs and feels comfortable with you. (He also wants to test his hypothesis: if he's sleeping next to you, his sleep quality will be improved. But he doesn't tell you that--not immediately, at least.)

You and Tech talk about what positions sound best and most comfortable and settle on sleeping facing each other, laying on your sides and holding hands.

You don't end up holding hands that long, but Tech gently touches your face. He strokes your cheek, rubs his thumb side to side over your temple, takes your hand and presses a kiss to it.

It lulls you to sleep, and he falls asleep shortly after you with a smile on his face, intertwining one of his legs with yours.

After doing that position for a while, Tech asks to try spooning. He's nervous holding you and keeping you close to him, but as your sleepy chat goes on, he relaxes and rests his hand over yours, tracing circles with his thumb.

One night, you try being the big spoon for a change. Tech loves it almost as much as he loves holding you. You respond to his requests and adjustments, and he presses kisses into your wrists and hands. He falls asleep first.

Tech slowly becomes the first to fall asleep. Even if he shifts out of whatever position you're both in, he sleeps peacefully and has some part of his body touching you. His hypothesis is proven right.

Wrecker x You

The only person on the Batch that outdoes Hunter's passion for cuddling is Wrecker. You joke that he's just a giant teddy bear under the armor, and he never disagrees.

He claims that it's all for your protection, but he just likes how small you look compared to him. He secretly has a size kink

Wrecker will cuddle in any position you want, all you have to do is ask. His personal favorite is spooning, even if it's a classic and basic.

He also loves having you rest your head on his chest while he embraces you, petting the back of your head with a large hand and keeping the other planted firmly on the small of your back.

Wrecker's heart melts when you softly snore or drool. Everything you do is precious to him, especially if he makes you feel safe and comfortable enough for your body to completely relax like that.

Omega will sometimes crawl into bed with both of you if she has a nightmare or feels anxious and can't fall asleep. You and Wrecker will lay on your sides facing each other, Omega in the middle. She'll lay with her back pressed into you or Wrecker.

Wrecker snores. Loudly. Over time, you fall asleep faster so you aren't a victim of it. But when he's exhausted and drifts off first, you slip out of bed to try to grab your ear plugs.

He feels you missing and immediately wakes up in a panic, only to relax when you slip back in bed, giving him a kiss. Wrecker is very sensitive to your presence and will wake up if things shift.

taglist (join): @hardlystrictlystarwars @dheet @kalea-bane

[morethansky]

As promised, my thoughts on Tech's fate.

If you think they changed their minds about revealing Tech to be alive, you might not want to read this. I'm not trying to debate or dissuade anyone; this is just my personal take.

Also, please be forewarned that this is quite Hunter critical. I love to write the man, but god, he’s so bad for my blood pressure.

This is still such a hard thing for me to talk about. To be honest, I ducked out of the TBB fandom between the time when i finished “i keep what i can of you” and S3 started because it felt like I couldn’t say what I thought without either hurting the people who thought Tech was dead and were traumatized or inciting the wrath of those believed he was alive, some of whom got so haughty and/or oddly hostile whenever any other possibilities were stated in their vicinity. It seems that after I left, the opposite started happening too? The hellish fandom ouroboros.

Anyway, so here are my unfiltered thoughts, because I might explode if I don't write them down. After I watched “Plan 99,” I thought Tech was dead, and I was extremely traumatized and hysterical about it. I remember that night I couldn’t sleep, and I stayed up till morning trying to process the sense of betrayal I felt and figure out what to do with the sweet little WIP I had been working on, which was about Tech and Wrecker facing the concept of death for the first time. (I have now rewritten it to be much darker but for Tech to live, and as CX-2, so I hope that proves I mean well with this post.)

Because it’s me and it’s media, I was not only traumatized but also furious. To be frank, I’m not usually this deeply affected by character deaths. I have written a lot of major character death fics and grief/mourning is a component of like 60 percent of my writing. In fact, when character deaths are done well, I think they’re fantastic. The worthy, well-done ones can make the characters shine even more brightly.

That is not the case here. Tech dies for literally nothing. The protagonists don’t achieve anything at all from it besides returning to square one, less a member. They don’t find the coordinates to Tantiss. They don’t find anything about who Hemlock is or what the Advanced Science Division does. They don’t overhear any vital intel from the meeting with all the Imperial bigwigs. They don’t gain any insight from Saw. They don’t even find out whether Crosshair was actually in captivity and whether his saying Plan 88 was him laying a trap for them or not.

And that is some of the worst messaging I’ve ever seen in a Y-7 American action cartoon. And believe me, I’ve watched a lot of them.

Allow me to beat the dead horse one last time. Finally, after two entire seasons of the show, a member of the main cast is like, “Hey, remember how Crosshair used to be one of us? Even if he kind of sucks, shouldn’t we help him? He did just try to warn us.” And I was ECSTATIC. Didn’t expect the autistic character to be the one to be like, no, fuck you, we should do the right thing no matter the risk (autistic characters are so often morally gray and it’s so frustrating), but I loved it so much! That’s me!!

…And then he literally dies because he wanted to do the right thing. Hunter, the character who does not want to help people, who rejects the idea of going to Eriadu and has to be convinced otherwise, IS PROVEN CORRECT. What the ever-loving fuck is that messaging? That’s right, kids—if you selflessly try to help other people, you’ll be killed. So maybe don’t bother, actually. And this show just underlines that message over and over again! The only people who matter are those you consider family. Everyone else can rot. In fact, people who are willing to risk their lives to help people are foolish and idealistic. The things Hunter says to Echo are repeatedly so fucked up ("When will it be enough?" Dude wtf???), and it's nuts that the show doesn't offer Hunter's narrow-minded perspective as a contrast to Echo's determination to do the right thing—it offers Echo as a contrast to Hunter's motivations to retire (which we understand because when the two of them split up, we follow Hunter instead of Echo—and not even in addition to Echo! He only shows up again because he's visiting Hunter's story!).

That’s straight-up American conservative ideology. I will never not be pissed at them for making the fucking deuteragonist—and a clone character at that—like that. And in Star Wars! The franchise that is overwhelmingly and consistently about fighting fascists! Made by the company founded and based in the Bay Area, the most progressive region of the country!!!

To be frank, I almost turned the TV off right then. But I thought, okay…a horrible way to get to it, but…maybe now is the moment? Maybe now they’ll finally join Echo and Rex, and be super determined to find Tantiss and Crosshair and the many other clones whose designations were on the roster—to complete the mission that Tech so passionately insisted on before he sacrificed himself.

BUT NO! Hunter immediately pressures Omega into going to Pabu. And why wouldn’t he? The narrative proved him right! By trying to do the right thing, Tech died. So we’ll just go back to ignoring the suffering of countless beings across the galaxy, including our own kind. Millions of straight-up metaphorical versions of us. Cool.

And then Omega gets captured. So because Tech wants to do the right thing, he dies, and because Omega agrees with him, she gets taken away. And then suddenly Hunter puts away Pabu entirely and becomes super gung-ho about finding her. Which is just…why did they write him like this. Why did they even have the conversation about Pabu?? Leaving it out would have made Hunter's motivations flow so much better. Because by introducing that, they invite the crucial question: Why was that what it took for him to stop running but losing Crosshair and Tech didn’t??? Because he only cares about this one child's well-being and it's his single motivation as a character???

A contingent of Crosshair fans have seemed to vocally dislike Hunter from the start because he left Crosshair, and I’m like no, you don’t understand. It’s not about the character, it’s about the writing. In some cases, it does end up being the character rather than the writing, and you can usually tell because the writing condemns that in the character. Not here though! Hunter's decisions throughout the show are celebrated by it. And Hunter gets his way, as we see now with them retiring on Pabu and ignoring the fight even as "the Rebellion needs pilots now more than ever." Thank god the finale at least posited that Echo was also right, which is kind of like the bare minimum they could've done in that regard.

So Tech’s death hit me particularly hard because it felt like just a waste of two entire episodes, a waste of an enjoyable character they had just given some really poignant depth, and a waste of the chance to give Hunter the character development I was desperate for—and also like a betrayal, a slap in the face, because it was like the show was saying that heroes are stupid, that Tech was foolish for wanting to do the right thing. Which is nuts given the rest of the SW animated oeuvre. And is fucking hurtful. And bad for kids.

So when the theories about Tech’s survival started floating around that night, I thought, okay, yeah, maybe this was such a stupid death and waste of screen time because it’s to set up something really cool. I could get behind that, even if the entire setup would still be faulty and honestly kind of repulsive to me.

I engulfed everyone’s theories in those weeks I spent mourning, desperate to be convinced—but as much as I wanted to believe there was a plan at work, I just couldn’t buy it 100 percent because…would the people who wrote this awful arc, and who made all the oddest choices possible at any given time throughout both seasons thus far, really intend to set up and execute something so well thought out and complex?

Of course not. People kept being like, “We have to trust the writers. They have a grand plan. They wouldn’t just throw away Tech. It would be ableist, and that’s why he’s not dead.” Like??? The show was already ableist! One of the main characters is disabled and his being disabled is specifically relevant to why he’s even in this squad and in this show—and it’s never remotely discussed! The closest is the most oblique reference ever to how Echo doesn't like to be alone. That's it. Just because they actually managed to write this wonderful moment about Tech being autistic doesn’t mean their track record was suddenly irrelevant! Killing off their neurodivergent character is exactly the kind of ableist shit they would do! And see now: Crosshair's hand. Also Echo suddenly having a hand after not having one for so long and it being completely untouched upon. It's par for the course!

So the Tech Lives theories all hinged on the writing being really clever, but I just. Already hated so much of the writing, and it felt way more likely that they were just continuing to be bad writers and continuing to go with the poorer plot choice option every single time they had the opportunity to go a direction that would be thought provoking and emotionally affecting.

I felt very much and very sadly proven right when the season started, and we got no mention of Tech being dead until the FIFTH episode. The Batch never talked about Crosshair and why he tried to kill them, so I guess why would they talk about Tech dying, sigh. And it was so bizarre how people were arguing that Omega and Crosshair's little exchange about Tech was super touching and gave us everything we needed. It absolutely did not! The fact that we couldn't agree on whether Crosshair even knew tells you everything you need to know about the wacky writing choices! Why was it so vague?? They literally could have added one word:

Crosshair: Did they teach you plan 72? Omega: Mm-hmm. Tech had me memorize all the plans, before... Crosshair: Of course he did.

On that note, I began to feel uneasy about the fandom again, because it started feeling like an echo chamber, and I was worried everyone was getting too hyped about something that might not happen, and even if it did, might end up being some kind of poorly done fanservice. I started seeing a lot of defensive posts being like, “Well, the reason they’re not mentioning Tech is because he’s not dead, and you’re an idiot, unlike me, if you’re falling for their sneaky tricks.”

Like??? The prevalence of ride-or-die sentiments like that started making me feel like I was losing my grip on reality and watching a completely different show from everyone else. Wouldn’t the dramatic effect of Tech being alive be strengthened by the characters all mourning him, thus making us mourn him, thus making the plot twist that he’s alive even more effective?? Wouldn't the characters being shown to be affected by his death instead of just ignoring it be the most promising sign of his impending return?

To me, the characters not mourning Tech meant that the writers had put him aside and moved on (which is, again, terrible writing because it doesn’t give the viewers the space to grieve and then move on, and it makes the characters feel terribly heartless, which, well. At least they were consistent). And that blasé moving on made the possibility of him being dead WAY more likely to me. Of course they would kill their neurodivergent character and then just all but pretend it didn't happen. Of course they would act as if he had just been a convenient plot device! Of course they would only bring him up and act like they missed him when he wasn't there to miraculously do the characters' work for them and the writers' work for them! Fuck that so hard.

So then “Infiltration” and “Extraction” were a big surprise! I was like, oh, huh, guess I was totally wrong and they’re really doing it, wow. Okay, let’s see if they can actually pull it off. I liked the writing a lot better this season, so it felt more plausible that they were finally getting down to business. The fact that the clues felt so heavy handed was kind of weird to me, and I complained a lot about there not being red herrings, but I love a good Came Back Wrong story, so I was willing to believe I had been too pessimistic and cynical, as I often am.

After “Bad Territory” and “The Harbinger,” however, I started doubting it again. Fitting both this M-count mystery that had already taken up so much screen time plus a Tech Lives mystery just felt like a lot of ground to cover, and this was the show that couldn’t even seem to fit more than five seconds of the main characters being sad about the death of their squad mate. Did they really have what it would take to pace it?

Of course not!!!

After “Point of No Return,” I started to feel like if they did bring Tech back, it would be at the cost of it being done poorly. And to me, for his purported death AND his resurrection to be badly written would be way worse than just the former. And the draw of the whole Winter Soldier deal is the fallout; the guilt and doubt the characters harbor; the way they have to reckon with the fact that even if their loved one is back, they will never be the same again, because they did die in a way—and the less time allotted after a reveal like that, the fewer of those key things there would be, which would just make it feel so tacked on for cheap shock value and social media chatter. Especially because there had been so little buildup to such a thing at the beginning of the season. These writers' abilities are just not remotely close to Ed Brubaker's, y'all.

Then Rampart being introduced afterward felt like the death knell (oop) because it was a new plot thread they would need to wrap up by the end. But the Clone X thread was still dangling, so I felt like it wasn’t out of the question. But I guess after my complaints about the Tech connections being too obvious and there needing to be more red herrings, it turned out that the Tech connections themselves were the red herrings.

Although I feel like that's probably even giving the writers too much credit. I don't know if I really believe they were trying to mislead us. I feel like they just clumsily ended up doing things that coincided with the Tech Lives theories. Like I honestly wouldn't be surprised if when they used "domicile" it was completely without realizing they had previously had Tech say it and that this would lead to the viewers drawing an erroneous conclusion. They probably just wanted CX-2 to say something fancy and mysterious tbh, and the same words tend to float in writers' minds. Rip us.

I guess now I understand what I could never work out—if CX-2 was Tech, then why did he so specifically use rifles like Crosshair does and so proficiently, i.e. specifically better than Crosshair did? Why wouldn't he dual wield hand blasters?

Also, although I was in some ways relieved that at least they didn't write a bad resurrection for Tech, and there's absolutely no way it wouldn't have been shit if it'd just been shoved anywhere in the last three episodes, all this is not to say the Clone X concept didn't end up being super hamfisted as well. Just the fact that there are other Clone X types with different weapons and uniforms makes the concept even more confusing. Clearly these guys were meant to mirror the Batch, but then why did all the ones we encountered before CX-2 wear the same uniform as him?? Did they sort the clones into categories of which Clone X they would be? It would actually be cool if the point was to sow fear in the galaxy because it would seem like the person in the CX-2 suit was undefeatable, especially because they were completely covered and their build would be the same every time. But that would be too cool and coherent for this show, sigh.

Also, was Hemlock project managing them, or was Scorch? Neither really makes sense, but who was sending them after Rex's rebel cell? Was there a military higher-up giving the Advanced Science Division that directive? Why did CX-2 and the one that Rex's cell captured hate Crosshair so much? Why the fuck did CX-2 cut off his hand???

Anyway. I could go on forever, but I think at the end of the day, we all read too much into it because we are just collectively better writers than the writers are tbh. Sadly, a classic fandom experience. I guess what ultimately saved me the most from heartbreak and allowed me to earnestly enjoy the finale was that I had already spent a year believing Tech had died and suffered through my grief (by, you guessed it, writing a grief/mourning fic), and I just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was no way these writers could pull off something so emotional and complex. I swear I didn’t actually want to be right!

I think if nothing else, one thing we can all agree on is that Tech surviving could’ve been one kickass story, and it was a hell of a missed opportunity.

[archivistofnerddom]

The Bad Batch and Costco headcanons:

Because I have it in my head that they would be the family that needs to buy things in bulk. Once it was there, the headcanons followed.

Hunter

He’s usually the one responsible for their food purchases. The grocery list he takes is long, extensive, and heavily annotated with everyone’s preferences.

The most tired dad in Costco award goes to him. Trying to corral the rest of the Batch is a losing game, so he’s figured out how to divide and conquer, sending everyone out to pick up certain things. (They don’t always follow through with what they were supposed to get though, hence why he wins the most tired dad award.)

He’s willing to stop and try samples though. Hunter needs snacks to get through this gauntlet with the full family. Plus, focusing on food keeps him sane and his senses in line.

Even still, he’s always down to get a hot meal from Costco’s kitchen after check-out. It’s the only time that day the whole family agrees on anything and is in the same place in the store.

He’s usually in possession of one of the family’s membership cards and definitely has one of their debit cards. There will be few surprise purchases on his watch. (There are always surprise purchases on his watch.)

Crosshair

Disappears almost as soon as they walk in the door. He appears out of nowhere to deposit what he wants in one of their carts (because they have many) and disappears again. (Coffee and dark chocolate are pretty much the only consistent items he adds.)

He can usually be found hanging near the check-out lanes with a mountain of coolers and boxes at the ready for when they’re checking out.

It’s an unspoken rule in their local Costco that no one tries to filch any of the cardboard boxes from his horde. Legend has it he will throw hands to defend his stash. Few dare to test that assumption.

The one responsible for ordering food so that it’s ready to eat once the rest of the family is through the check-out line. Don’t ask how he always times it perfectly. It’s a mystery not even Tech could solve.

Unsurprisingly, he usually garners a following of moody teenagers who just don’t want to be there. He gives off the same energy most of the time, even if he’s just trying to catch a nap. It’s a crapshot if Crosshair actually likes that the moody punk kids want to hang with him. They’re just afraid enough of him to ask.

Tech

Tech can be found in the auto section and the electronics section. He knows precisely what they meet and has already shopped the best deals.

He needs several texts and alarms so that he doesn’t get lost in conversation. (Hunter isn’t above sending Wrecker to go re-claim Tech, if he doesn’t show up after a timely fashion.)

Like Crosshair, he’ll just drop whatever non-electronic items he wants (such as snacks and what have you) into the cart after he’s finished his assigned tasks before he disappears. He usually winds up hanging with Crosshair to wait for the rest of the family.

Tech is only sometimes in charge of the family Costco membership card and debit car. He can’t be left fully unattended though, if only because he’ll go overboard with purchases.

Can be used to distract the moody punk kids who want to vibe with Crosshair, while also having Crosshair use his shoulder as a pillow.

Wrecker

He has to go with Hunter, if only because he’s usually on cart duty. (Wrecker also needs to be supervised, or else he’ll grab all the snacks.) Being on cart duty doesn’t stop him from having a great time. He’s that guy who can push the most improbably packed cart with true expertise.

Guess who will still sneak in special treats and surprises for Omega into the cart? This guy.

Wrecker gets geared up for the post-Costco run family meal. He’ll eat an entire pizza all by himself, if left unattended and unsupervised. (Crosshair buys extra for him because of that.)

He’s the most enthusiastic about trying samples and will always encourage Hunter to stop and try. Wrecker knows when his brother needs a break from the chaos.

Wrecker and the Costco employees who run the sample stations always get along. He’s so nice to them and complimentary to them. This is the guy who will always wind up getting extra samples handed to him.

Echo

He’s usually on Omega duty, if only to make sure she doesn’t sneak off on them.

Echo also is usually responsible for stocking up their pharmacy needs and buying some clothes in bulk for the family. With how hard their lives are, getting clothes in bulk is necessary.

He’s always in charge of one of their membership cards and a debit card. Echo is the most responsible one on that front.

That doesn’t stop him from conspiring with Omega to find some fun things for the cart. It’s always something random, but will brighten up their chaotic lives.

Echo is most likely to pass out once he eats though. He’s happy to get off his feet and to have a chance to relax. Walking around Costco takes effort sometimes, especially with his prosthetics.

Omega

Like Wrecker, she makes friends with everyone who gives out samples. She’s the reason why Echo stays fed before they check-out.

Omega would walk out with so many large squishy toys, if she could get away with it. That’s why she and Wrecker can’t be in Costco together and unsupervised. They’d have so many comfy squishy toys and hammocks if they were.

Somehow, she gets covered in stickers and starts sharing them with her brothers. It doesn’t matter where she got them. Omega has stickers books and she shares them. Little kids love her because she inevitably turns into the feral sticker fairy of Costco. (Who knows how the parents to said little kids feel about that.)

Omega is very serious about making sure her brothers all walk away from each Costco trip with a surprise in the cart. She gets sneaky about getting them past Echo and Hunter. (Wrecker provides distractions as appropriate.)

Remember those moody punk kids who were hanging around Crosshair (and inevitably Tech)? Well, Omega chats all of them up. She’s the best person to embarrass the crap out of her brothers with stories. Omega makes her brothers look either way cooler or significantly less cool when she shares stories with the punk kids.

[stars-n-spice]

Thoughts on S3 Ep09!

Went to Universal last week on Wednesday so I missed watching it this week, couldn't watch it until today and oh my god,,,

Ignorance really is bliss <3

It's slowly getting harder and harder to bring myself to watch the new episodes ahaha

Anyways, spoilers and my incoherent screaming under the cut!!!

So I was like a puddle on the floor the entire episode

Ventress spoke and I melted,,

I love her so much I'm so glad she's back and I hope she comes back PRETTY PLEASE

SO M COUNT WAS MIDICHLORIANS!!! I mean,, that much was obvious but we're one step closer to having answers!

Wrecker and Crosshair helping out the Pabu civilians :(

Also noticed how fucking,, big Wrecker looks compared to Crosshair,, aahhhhhaaaaa big,, big man, big guy,,

Crosshair being like, "We aren't going to hand her over" AAAAA he really is worse than Hunter,, fucking love him

Ventress just,, being able to find them so easily and get onto Pabu without anyone noticing makes me,, so nervous,, oh my god

WRECKER FOLDING HIS ARMS ACROSS HIS CHEST AFTER SEEING HUNTER AND CROSSHAIR HOLDING THE SAME POSE?!?!

WRECKER STEPPING UP AND PUTTING HIS HANDS ON OMEGA'S SHOULDERS WHEN VENTRESS MENTIONS FORCE WEILDING?!?

Wrecker just,, fucking doing ANYTHING?? I love him

Ventress is actually really tall-

tall,, tall woman

AND HER GAY ASS HAIRCUT OH MY GOD

"Clearly none of you are normal" LMAOOO

I was like,, "hey why don't they recognize her?? they were fighting in the same war???" and then Crosshair was like "I went through Tech's files" or whatever and :(((

Tech mention :((( I miss him more and more everyday

CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT FIGHT SCENE?!?!?!

HOLY SHIT!!!!!

want that fight scene injected into my blood

SHE SLAPPED WRECKER?!?!

she kicked their asses oh my god

fuck I loved that

Meanwhile Omega's on a scavenger hunt

I felt like I was watching Karate Kid

Omega not knowing who/what she is :(( and wanting to figure it out and have answers :( MAN.

WRECKER CHEERING ON OMEGA WHILE SHE WAS TRAINING!! it was so sweet but also hilarious because it made me think of how Chopper and Zeb would MAKE FUN of Ezra while he was training (I love my space families)

Omega trying to convince them to trust Asajj,, fucking,, "I never gave up on you, didn't I?" SHUT THE FUCK UP :(((((

With every episode I love Crosshair more and more and it's fucking DAMNING as all hell because I will not be able to handle anything remotely bad happening to him at this point

fuckin,, something,,, about,,, Hunter,, on his back,,, legs spread with the,, lightsaber in his face,,, fuck,, fuck fuck

I'M TELLING YOU MAN I WAS A PUDDLE ON THE FLOOR THE ENTIRE EPISODE

WE MAYBE DIDN'T GET WET HAIR HUNTER BUT WE GOT WET HAIR ASAJJ AND I THINK THAT'S OBJECTIVELY BETTER!!!

Omega is just collecting like,, mentors/parents like Ezra,, I fucking love it,, she comes across adults who are like,, "fuck it. I'm adopting this kid" and Hunter's like "NO!"

Omega is just a teenager I love her so much - "Ventress is bad." - "Okay, but-"

WHY IS THERE ALWAYS A BIG MONSTER?!?!?!

RAAAAAAAH SO SHE IS FORCE SENSITIVE?!

look,, I feel like,, that training wasn't nearly enough to determine the right levels and honestly I'm still confused

ASAJJ YOU BETTER COME BACK

I was like begging for her to stay because I know shit is going to go down on Pabu and they could use her help :(

but also I'm selfish and want to see her more

"But I've got a few lives left" - RAAAAAAAHHH

Also Crosshair helping Omega and Asajj up onto the Maurader :((

I love Crosshair :((

The last two episodes have been relatively,,, calm? Like the calm before the storm and that makes me fucking TERRIFIED for this week's episode oh my god