#getting thrown out of hyperspace

[brainrotparsecsaway]

I really liked this scene in the bad batch and I think they're the perfect fit for this scene

Both Quasar and Korar are used to being the leaders and now that there is someone else just as capable to fill in that role for them it gets a little dicey

When Quasar's the only one repairing the ship I don't think the rest of the crew has a lot of right to complain when they keep breaking it further before Quasar has a chance to fix it

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Such a Good Girl

Crosshair can’t shake this strange feeling in his chest, especially after you save his ass during a mission. Perhaps it's worth finally exploring.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 4.2k

Rating: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: praise kink, competency kink, pet names, Cross hates having feelings but has to deal with them anyway, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), fingering, heavy eye contact, dirty talk, the armour stays on, light D/s tones, sprinkle of quirofilia, idiots falling in love, mention of inappropriate use of rifle rest, brief Soft!Cross, brief aftercare.

A/N: DBB once described Cross as ‘a coiled snake’, and it’s the most fitting description I’ve ever read.

The ache had started in your calves but was now working up your thighs. You tossed and turned in the small bunk, trying desperately to get comfortable, but nothing worked. With a quiet groan of frustration, you sat up, your flimsy standard-issue blanket tossed aside, and hauled yourself off the bed.

Bare feet on the durasteel floor, you winced as the cold shot up your legs. It took a moment for you to walk without wobbling, but you persevered, quietly moving past the other bunks. Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech had conked out when you entered hyperspace, with Crosshair taking the first watch.

The last mission had been rough – the intel you’d received from Command had been flawed, vastly underestimating the number of droids you’d have to face. Then a damn electrical storm had rolled in, thrown out your comms, and messed with Hunter’s senses. Everything that could’ve gone wrong had, but you shouldn’t have been surprised given everything that had happened over the last year.

A whole year. It had gone past in the blink of an eye. You could still remember the day you’d been introduced to Clone Force 99 and assigned as their civilian handler. It was your job to keep in contact with Command, feed the boys their missions, and ensure they had everything they needed to complete their work and return safely.

While most handlers chose to remain on Kamino, away from the blaster fire and chaos, you’d elected to go with the Batch, to live on the Marauder with them and share their barracks on the rare occasion you could return to base. After all, you couldn’t keep them safe if you weren’t with them.

They’d been distant with you at first – still polite, of course, but hadn’t opened up or engaged in conversation about anything other than the current mission.

Wrecker had cracked after a month, inviting you to watch a holofilm with him in the gunner’s nest. Tech had been next, optimising your datapad when you’d been in the fresher. Hunter followed afterwards, teaching you how to play dejarik. And then Crosshair had been last, sitting silently beside you to field strip and reassemble his rifle before he’d pushed it in your direction for you to repeat his actions.

They were your family now, The four chaotic brothers.

But they’d come close to becoming three today.

Your slow, steadier steps continue through the ship until you reach the closed cockpit doors. It was a courtesy for whoever was on watch to close the doors and dampen any noise for those resting. Pressing your palm against the panel nearby, the door gave a quiet whoosh as it opened, sealing shut behind you as you stepped in.

The cockpit was quiet; a lone figure sat in the co-pilot chair. “You’re meant to be sleeping.” The serpentine slink of Crosshair’s voice filled the space as he turned the chair around to see who was up, momentary surprise flickering in his eyes as he caught sight of you before he tampered it back down.

“Would if I could, Cross.” You answered dryly, sitting in the seat behind him. The nickname slipped out easily these days, though you could remember the scowl the sniper had thrown your way the first time you’d used it. Ultimately, he’d warmed to it and secretly enjoyed every time you used it.

“Hell’s wrong with you?” He asked as you shifted in the seat, the well-worn leather giving a little as you tried to get comfortable. He pushed his toothpick to the other side of his mouth with his tongue, sharp eyes raking over your body as he took quick stock of your condition.

Your lips fell into a flat line as you stared incredulously at the man opposite you. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe my whole body is protesting because I had to race up the side of a damn mountain this afternoon to save my snarky sniper from a platoon of droids.” You huffed, the tension palpable in your voice.

As usual, Crosshair had found the best vantage point during the mission, but the unexpectedly large number of droids had caught you all off guard. You’d been mid-way through fighting a platoon back when you’d spotted another cresting over the mountain. Crosshair had been focused on picking off the droids coming after you and his brothers, and without comms to alert him, you’d been left with two options – furiously field sign the warning and pray he caught it through his scope or haul ass up the mountain and deal with the problem yourself.

You’d chosen the latter.

Your blaster bolt had cut through the first droid just as they’d rounded the corner and spotted Crosshair in a prone position, his rifle aimed down the mountain. And though every muscle in your body had burned and protested, you’d valiantly held them back long enough for him to turn and help fight them off.

The corner of Crosshair’s lip twitched, a tinge of amusement in his hawkish gaze. “Your snarky sniper?” He quips, trying to ignore the warmth in his body at your words.

“Of course, that’s what you take out of that. Not the fact that my legs feel like they’re on fire.” You roll your eyes, arms folding across your chest as you meet his gaze. You weren’t really mad, and you both knew it.

For a moment, you silently stare at each other until Crosshair breaks the contact and reaches down, drawing your legs up onto his lap. A noise of surprise slips past your lips as you slide down a bit in the chair, but you adjust your position. His thumbs press against your ankles, sliding slowly up your calf as he works out the ache in your muscles, one leg at a time. His hands are surprisingly gentle as he pushes and rubs, the pain starting to fade with every pass of his fingers.

The cockpit falls silent again, the streaks of hyperspace throwing soft light through the space, illuminating Crosshair from behind like a halo. The idea has you suppressing a smile, knowing he’d baulk at such a comparison.

He can feel the weight of your gaze on him, but he studiously ignores it, focussing instead on trying to ease your pain. He’d been so intent on ensuring the safety of his brothers, picking off the droids attacking them, that he’d missed your scramble up the mountain. It had only been the sound of your blaster fire nearby that had snapped his attention to you and the oncoming droids. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d have likely been overwhelmed without your quick actions. He was better than any Reg, without a doubt, but without backup, an entire platoon of droids was too much even for him.

The surprise he’d felt at seeing you up on the mountain with him had been short-lived, replaced with a strange sense of attraction as he watched you protect him before instinct kicked in, and he’d joined you in the fight. That feeling had returned just now when you’d called him yours and prompted him to reach for you to ease your aches. It was confusing and infuriating. Sure, over the last year, he’d fleetingly thought of you in a less than professional way, but he’d never had the urge to act on it until today.

Your body sinks into the chair, relaxing as the tension is worked out of your legs. It feels too damn good, and a moan slips from your lips before you can stop it, your eyes widening as you inhale sharply, going stock still. Crosshair’s hands pause, toothpick slowly sliding to the other side of his mouth as he finally lifts his gaze, those sharp brown eyes dancing with something dangerous. “What an unexpectedly pretty sound, kitten.”

A strangled noise escapes you, wide eyes locked onto the sniper. The nickname is nothing new, usually thrown at you with a playful barb or some snark, but this time it’s different. This time, he purrs it.

“S-Sorry.” You stammer, clearing your throat as you try desperately to ignore the sudden heat in your belly. “It slipped out. Felt good.” You gesture vaguely towards your legs before pulling them out of Crosshair’s lap. But those slender fingers of his wrap around your ankles, keeping them in place, his eyes refusing to leave yours.

Crosshair knows he’s playing a dangerous game right now, knows he’s teetering on the edge of something that could go favourably for you both or go wildly wrong. But your moan…fuck. He’s grateful his codpiece hides his half-hard cock as one of his hands trails up your calves, skimming across your knees and thighs. He stops himself from sliding his hand under the hem of the oversized sleep shirt you’re wearing, a strange pang of something clawing at his chest as he realises it’s one of Wrecker’s old shirts.

Your own chest is rising and falling rapidly with tiny breaths. Crosshair’s eyes take in the flutter of your pulse in your neck, the way you’re watching him so intently. The pads of his fingers smooth across your thigh as he weighs up the situation. He could play this off, joke about riling you up and never mention it again. Or, he could figure out this strange feeling and why he’s picturing you naked, writhing beneath him with nothing but pleasure painted on your gorgeous face.

He, too, chooses the latter.

“You did good today.” He states lowly, fingers skirting ever so slightly under the hem of your shirt, eyes focused on your face. That feeling in his chest expands as he watches your pupils dilate as you inhale shakily.

Warmth sits in your belly, the compliment curling around you like a blanket on a cold day. “Just doing my job.” You decide to play it off, even though the words and the way he’s touching you make your heart pound a little wildly. You’d never been good at accepting praise and certainly weren’t expecting it from Crosshair.

“Maybe. But I’d like to thank you properly.” He tilts his head ever so slightly, the usual bite to his words gone as his eyes flit down to watch his fingers shift, dragging down the inside of your knee.

Brows furrowing for a second, you swallow, wondering if you’re reading the room correctly. “Are you…propositioning me?” You ask quietly, a shiver sliding down your spine as Crosshair’s fingers still.

His eyes lift, locking onto you. And the silence stretches.

You can’t deny he’s a good-looking man, nor can you deny how your heart somersaults when you see the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips after you say something amusing or when he reaches around you for something and crowds into your space. Now, watching him, you swear you can see a hint of apprehension in his eyes.

“Forget it.” Crosshair insists, going to move your legs from his lap. He feels stupid for even suggesting it – you could have any man in the galaxy; why would you want him?

You grasp his wrist, having moved on instinct. Focusing on him, your expression softens as he avoids your gaze, shifting that damn toothpick across his mouth again. You reach for it with your free hand, prying it gently from his mouth. The motion makes him finally look at you, and you can see the walls he’s trying to put back up. That can’t happen. “I don’t want to forget it.” You confess, your eyes momentarily betraying you as you glance at his lips.

His mouth is on you before you know it, firm, demanding lips pressed against yours. The toothpick falls to the floor. Hands grasp at your thighs, hauling you into his lap. You go willingly, tongue sliding against his lips, seeking entrance to deepen the kiss. One of your hands slides to the nape of his neck, and the other grasps at his bicep.

Crosshair’s mind is spinning, though he forces himself to appear composed. Your gentle weight in his lap is delicious, the way your ass presses against him, your hands clutching him. That feeling in his chest grows, and he silently luxuriates in it, lips parting as he feels your tongue pressing forward. He tastes you, a groan erupting from low in his throat. There’s something else he wants to taste more.

Supporting your body, he eases you back until you’re sprawled once more in the opposite seat. His lips refuse to leave yours, steady hands positioning you at the edge of the chair before he pulls back. Watching as your eyes flutter open, his cock strains against his codpiece. You’re breathing rapidly, lips shiny, desire burning in your pretty eyes. He did that to you. He can’t fight back his pride.

Dropping to his knees, Crosshair barely feels the cold floor beneath him, his armour buffering the impact and the temperature. Hands slide back up your thighs, fingers hooking on your panties. They slide down your legs quickly, and a smirk tilts his lips as he pulls them off you, eyes locked on yours as he tucks the scrap of fabric safely in one of the pouches on his belt.

Drawing your legs over his shoulders, he leans in, breaking the eye contact to take in the beautiful sight of your pussy spread before him like a buffet.

It’ll be the best meal he’s ever had.

The edges of Crosshair’s armour bite into your thighs, but the sting of pain evaporates the moment he drags his tongue through your slick folds. Head thunking back against the seat, your hips buck as you gasp. 

“Maker, your pussy tastes good.” You hear the slink of his voice, a needy whine leaving you as you glance down to watch him feast. The almost permanent frown lines on his face are gone, a borderline serene look on his features as his tongue presses against your entrance, pulling a stuttered exhale from you.

His eyes snap open at the sound, watching up the length of your body as you writhe when he flicks his tongue across your clit, sucking the sensitive bud. The taste of you on his tongue is addictive, and though he’d deny it if he’s ever asked, he could quite happily live between your thighs. Right hand sliding up under your sleep shirt, he drags his fingers across the gentle swell of your breasts. You’d always been softness and smiles where he was hard edges and scowls. His other hand joins the party, two fingers pressing against your entrance, sinking in slowly as his tongue laves over your clit.

He silently preens as your hips buck, back arching while you moan. But then you’re tapping his hand under your shirt, head tilting down so you can catch his gaze. “Swap hands. Please.” You insist, a desperate look in your eyes.

Crosshair isn’t sure why it matters, but he does as you ask, sliding his right hand down your body as he removes his left from your pussy. Swapping them over, he presses his pointer and middle finger into you, prying his mouth from your clit so his thumb can run firm circles across it.

“You gonna tell me why, doll?” He questions, tongue darting out to lick his lips and enjoy your taste as he watches you cant your hips, chasing the pleasure his fingers are bringing you.

Heat rushes across your cheeks, and you avert your eyes, a mix of pleasure and shame flowing through you. “It’s…” You start, cutting yourself off with another moan as Crosshair twists his fingers, firmly pressing their pads to your g-spot.

Crosshair smirks, delight blooming inside him at your reaction. He stills his actions. “You can have more of that if you tell me…” He bargains, enjoying your groan.

Swallowing thickly, you bite the proverbial bullet. “Trigger finger.” You admit, eyes screwing shut.

The delight blooming in Crosshair’s chest now flits across his face. That wasn’t the answer he’d expected, but it went straight to his cock. “You like that thought, of my trigger finger buried in your pretty pussy, coaxing you to cum?” He teases, repeatedly pressing against your g-spot, rewarding you for your honesty. “Knowing this same finger will keep you safe on the next mission…”

Nodding eagerly, you rock your hips, chasing the building pleasure. “Yes. Always feel safe with you. Please, I wanna cum.” Desperation coats your voice.

Your admission makes him feel good – knowing how much you rely on him. Watching the slide of his fingers in and out of you, the way you writhe with every press against your g-spot and circle of your clit, he makes a slight noise of approval. “You really did do well today.” He comments lowly, enjoying the little whine you let out at the praise. “And brave girls get rewarded.” He tacks on, enjoying your chest’s rapid rise and fall as you pant, your hips still rocking, grinding against his hand. “You can cum.”

You’d never wanted a man’s permission to climax before, but something about Crosshair makes you want to please him. His fingers crook a little more, a little more pressure added to your clit, and you finally cry out his name. The pleasure slams into you, making you gasp as it floods your body, the tension snapping as your hips and thighs shake through your release. Your mind feels foggy, but you’re distantly aware of his fingers still buried inside you, drawing you through your orgasm.

Watching you fall apart might just be Crosshair’s new favourite thing. Your body is beautiful, the noises you make are absolutely sinful, and the thing clawing at his chest earlier is soothed, knowing he was the one bringing you such pleasure.

As you come down from the high, trying desperately to catch your breath, you feel yourself lifted, manhandled onto Crosshair’s lap as he retakes his place in the co-pilot’s chair. “There you go. So good for me.” The low rasp of his voice brushes against your ear. You feel something press against your lips, and your eyes open to see your sniper pressing two fingers to your mouth — the two fingers that had been buried inside you.

“Taste yourself. Get them nice and clean.” He instructs eyes darkening as he watches you suck them into your mouth, feels your tongue swirling around them, cheeks hollowing. And you hold his gaze will you do it, sending his heart racing and making his cock throb.

You make a show of cleaning him off, moaning around his steady fingers, the taste of your release hitting your tongue. Slowly sliding your lips up, a small ‘pop’ fills the cockpit as you pull off them. The effect you’re having on Crosshair is achingly obvious – his hawkish eyes are filled with a swirl of emotions, his hips shifting underneath you.

“On your knees, kitten.” He commands, easing you down gently off his lap, hands guiding you to the floor. You shudder as the durasteel meets your warm skin, Crosshair’s legs parting until you rest between them. Eyes tracking up his body, you slide your hands across his armour, fingers finding the small gap between the plates on his thighs. The brief contact makes him grunt, and you smirk as you reach his codpiece, undoing the latches and prying it off.

You knew the boys chucked their armour around, the katarn-class kit could withstand more than regular plastoid, but you placed his codpiece down on the floor with reverence. After all, it was part of what kept him safe.

Crosshair watches you intently, swallowing thickly as you place his armour down on the ground. An odd sensation of nervousness crashes into him as your eyes return to his body, homing in on his hard cock, which strains again his blacks. He tampers the feeling down – you’re not the first woman to get her hands on him, but he silently acknowledges that you’re the most important.

The cockpit is quiet again as you lean forward, focused on his outline. Your lips ghost across the taut fabric, the contact dragging a sharp grunt from Crosshair. His right hand finds its way into your hair, holding you steadily as you pull the waistband of his blacks down, revealing him.

Tongue darting across your lips, you tuck his blacks under his balls, pushing them up just so. Dicks weren’t inherently lovely to look at – or at least the ones you’d seen up until now weren’t. However, Crosshair was in an entirely different league.

Just the right thickness and a little longer than average, he curved gently to the right. Heavy balls sat just below, and you had to suppress a smile at the thatch of neat, silvery hair at the base of him. The colour wasn’t a fashion choice after all.

Wrapping your fingers around his base, you look up as you press soft kisses along his underside, dragging your tongue across velvety skin. His groan echoes around the room, fingers tightening in your hair. “Keep looking at me like that, doll. Let me see those pretty eyes.” He instructs, voice low and coiled, igniting heat in your belly.

Your lips wrap around the tip, tongue sliding into his slit to lap up the small bead of pre-cum. His hips buck and you bring your free hand up to rest against his abs to help stabilise yourself and apply gentle pressure to keep him seated. Your eyes stay locked on his, holding steadfast even as you bob your head, moaning unabashedly at his weight on your tongue.

Pulling off him completely, you dragged the head of his cock across your lips, shiny with your spit, watching him track the movement. Laving your tongue across him, you take him back into your mouth, sliding down a couple of centimetres, cheeks hollowing.

Crosshair knows he’s fucked. That strange feeling in his chest…yeah, he knows what it is now.

He can’t pretend this is some random hookup, that he’s just thanking you for saving him earlier. He can’t pretend it wouldn’t bother him for other men to hit on you during shore leave or for you to go home with them. You’re his. And while he might not be able to say it yet, he’ll damn well show it.

His free hand moves to your chin, gently tilting your head so he can slide in further, gasping as he feels the head of his cock bump against the back of your throat. “So perfect at sucking my cock. There’s my good girl.” He croons, watching how your eyes light up, how you bob your head that little bit faster, making him hiss with pleasure.

Spurred on, you take a deep breath and press forward, sliding more of him into your mouth until you can feel him in your throat. You exhale through your nose, hearing his choked moan before you pull back, desperately in need of air. You cough, drawing in a ragged breath, a string of saliva still connecting you to his flushed cock.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” Crosshair grits out, feeling his balls tighten with every glide of your lips across his shaft. Your mouth was heaven – warm and wet – and it only excited him more for the day he could bury himself inside your pussy.

Alas, the Marauder wasn’t the most comfortable place for that. And with what he had in mind, you’d need a comfortable surface.

Taking him back in your mouth, you set a steady pace, feeling the twinges of ache starting in your jaw. But you push through, deep-throating him repeatedly until you can feel his thighs tremble and see how tight his balls are. Your focus shifts to the tip, lips wrapped perfectly around it as you suck and lick, tongue flicking against his frenulum on the upstroke.

He was moving more, unable to stay still as he hurtled towards the edge. Your eyes darted to his rifle rest, the winged extension shifting as he grasped the arm of the chair, knuckles white. It didn’t escape his notice, and a foul thought crossed his mind. “Think you could take it, kitten? Fuck, you’d look so pretty with it buried inside you.” He voiced, hips thrusting upwards as he chased his orgasm. He’d never be able to look at the piece of armour the same way again if it had been inside your gorgeous body.

You moaned around his cock at the idea, and that was all it took. Fingers tangled in your hair tapped at your scalp in warning seconds before Crosshair let out a stuttered groan, hips pressing forward as he came. The tang of him filled your mouth, and you greedily swallowed down everything he gave you, tongue gliding softly around the head of him as he collapsed back against the co-pilot seat. Gently, you cleaned him up, licking the last remnants of his release away, knowing he was extra sensitive.

He guides you off the floor, dragging you back onto his lap, his softening cock pressing against your damp folds. One of his thumbs tugs at your lower lip as you finish licking them clean, and his gorgeous brown eyes are focused on you as you both catch your breath. For a moment, you see a hint of vulnerability pass through him, and he leans in to give you an unexpectedly soft kiss. “Maybe I should save that fine ass of yours some more.” You murmur, voice a little hoarse.

Crosshair’s fingers move to your jaw, and he gently massages it, having spotted the subtle twitch of the aching muscles. The corners of his lips quirked up ever so slightly in a small smile. “I’ll be sure to thank you every time.”

[orion-tyche]

Crash

Summary: Omega’s just finished up a mission for the Rebellion. But her ship’s been hit hard, and all systems are failing. As she falls out of Hyperspace, she finds a small bit of comfort in Tech’s goggles, as if he’s there with her.

Word Count: 1203

Notes: Another request from @mantellmix ! I love writing sad stuff. Short one-shot, enjoy!

Tag List: @mantellmix @a-cryptid-called-magetha

Things weren’t going well. They had been, for a while, but not anymore. Omega had just finished another mission for the Rebellion. She was supposed to take out an Imperial factory and get all the workers out. She did that. And may have accidentally taken down a nearby Star Destroyer. But it was fine. Or it was supposed to be. The workers were heading back to their families on the planet, the Empire was down a factory and a Star Destroyer, and Omega’s hyperdrive was in critical failure.

She watched as the blue streaks around her turned orange and pink, as she was thrown out of Hyperspace. Her console was beeping and flashing and sparking, only making the job more stressful. Gonky was in the back of the ship, shut down and being unhelpful. Even some reassurance would be nice. But she was alone.

Omega tried to take control of the ship’s trajectory, flipping on the emergency stabilizers and trying to steer. But it was no use. The ship was crashing down towards a nearby moon, out of control and buying Omega a one-way ticket to a very gruesome death. No, she couldn’t think like that. Yet.

Omega gave up on trying to control the steering and began running around the ship, fixing whatever she saw was sparking. But every time she fixed something, five more systems broke. She looked out the window and saw the ship was entering the atmosphere. She ran to the console and hit her distress signal. She looked up to the window again, seeing the orange and red flames begin appearing around her ship from such a sharp entry. She saw Tech’s goggles on the dashboard. She picked them up and held them tightly in her hands. Did he ever have to deal with a crash like this? He would at least have help. Omega was on her own. With only the reminders of her brothers sitting around.

Would they be proud? How would they even find out? Who would find her? If it was an Imperial, they’d never know. Another rebel? Maybe. She hadn’t told anyone where she was from yet, or who her family was. She hadn’t gotten to know anyone that well yet. Would they know who she was? Would they find her family and tell them?

Omega held Tech’s goggles closer as the ship kept falling. She could nearly see the planet’s surface now. Omega took Tech’s goggles and moved them over her ponytail and onto her neck. She sat down in the pilot’s chair and looked out at the scene before her. The noise of the warning sensors and sparks of the consoles were nothing now. Omega just stared aimlessly. She felt tears welling up as she placed a hand on the goggles. She felt the broken glass between her fingertips as she sighed. She laughed a bit in disbelief and felt the first tear roll down her face.

“I think this is it, Tech.” She spoke to the air. “See you soon.”

Omega closed her eyes and braced for impact. She’d been here before, hadn’t she? On Bora Vio, and her daring escape from Cad Bane. In that tiny flight pod, hands cuffed together. She’d just pushed that tiny droid off her. What was his name? Toto? Todo? It was so many years ago, but it wasn’t an experience easily forgotten. Omega remembered how loyal he was to Bane. But it clearly didn’t go both ways. She felt a little sorry for him. I guess you feel sorry about everything at the end.

She had felt so scared in that pod. She was just a kid. She was scared now. She was no longer a kid. She kept waiting and waiting for everything to stop. She’d thought about death a lot, to be honest. Back when she’d first left Kamino, it was a constant thing. It stopped for a while when Hemlock died, and they got to live on Pabu, but since joining the Rebellion it was back. That excitement. That risk. She’d underestimated it, and now she was paying the price. But she had Tech with her. She had her brother.

Omega kept waiting. But everything was the same. She was still sitting in the pilot seat, still holding Tech’s goggles around her neck, still alive. She finally opened her eyes to see she was being pulled out of the planet’s atmosphere. She looked around in confusion. A button on her console was blinking, one that signaled someone was trying to comm her. She pressed it, hoped it wouldn’t break, and waited. A few moments of silence passed as Omega saw the fiery horizon turn back to the darkness of space, and then a familiar voice came through the comm.

“Got yourself into some trouble, kid?”

Hunter’s voice was the last thing Omega expected to hear, but it was welcome. It was so welcome.

“Hunter?!” Omega exclaimed, her worry gone in a flash. They had come for her. She was safe.

The boarding hatch opened on Omega’s ship as she ran into her brother’s arms. Hunter smiled softly, holding her close. Omega heard a familiar, gravelly laugh coming from the bench on Phee’s ship (which they had arrived on).

“How touching.” Crosshair said, flicking a toothpick onto the floor. Omega ran over and hugged him as well, overjoyed to see her family again. “Only a month into the Rebellion, and we’re already coming to get you.” He snickered, hugging her back. Omega scoffed and pulled away, crossing her arms with a smirk on her face.

“Hardly needed it. Besides, you’re getting too old for this anyways.”

“We’re never too old!” Boomed Wrecker’s voice. Omega went over and hugged him as well. He laughed and held her close. Crosshair smirked, she really hadn’t changed.

“And you’re still a terrible liar.” He said, folding his arms. Hunter was going to make a snarky remark about the state of her ship, but then noticed something else. Something around her neck.

“Are those…Tech’s goggles?” He asked, something in his voice breaking. He hadn’t seen the old, shattered goggles in so long. And Omega was wearing them. Omega stepped away from Wrecker and took the goggles off, examining them in her hands.

“They…are. And you’re right. I did need your help. I got into a…bad situation. In over my head a bit. Ship was failing. Spirit was failing. I…I thought I was going to die. It brought me some comfort, at the very least.” Omega said, smiling fondly at the goggles. “It’s like he’s there with me.” The ship was silent. A silence of remembrance. They never properly talked about losing Tech when it happened. Not like they got the chance. There were conversations over the years, but Omega couldn’t remember a time where they all sat down and actually talked about him, purposefully.

“…he’s always with us. Just like how we’re always with you.” Hunter finally said, smiling warmly at Omega. “We’ll always be there. Burning ship or not. We’re a call away.” He put a hand on her shoulder as she wiped away a tear. “You’re our kid, Omega, like I’ve told you a thousand times. Now come on, let’s fix up your ship.”

[steeb-stn]

bad batch ficlet!!!

just an idea i had that had to be written down

—-

“Omega,” Tech said, incessant. “Omega, you need to get up.”

Ugh.

“Go away,” she said, pulling the blanket over her head. Except there was no blanket. So she just kept laying where she was. 

Tech was never one for sleeping in, a skill her other brothers had perfected during their retirement on Pabu. He probably wanted her help with the rusty old hoverbike out in the back shed. Or maybe he was finally planning to tackle the leaky old water cycler in the garden.

“I never lived in the cliff house with you,” Tech said, ever patient. “You moved into the cliff house on Pabu after Tantiss, after the Havoc was destroyed, remember? I need you to get up, Omega.”

It felt so nice to just. Keep her eyes closed. There was something cold and wet on her face, it would get in her eyes if she opened them. 

“Omega!” Tech’s voice boomed through her aching head. “You must get up.” 

There’s a pungent, stringent smell. She wrinkles her nose at it.

“It’s fuel,” Tech said, as patiently as he ever explained the Marauder’s specs or the science behind hyperspace travel. “Your fuselage has been compromised. I estimate you have approximately ninety to one hundred seconds before the fuel contacts the core reactor.” 

She raised her head, groaning as the movement sent her into vertigo. She was lying on the floor of the cockpit, thrown away from the main console, which had crumpled in the crash like a tin can. A metal panel had landed across her legs, and she groaned as she pulled them out from under it. Stumbled toward the hatch, blinking blood from out of her eyes.

“Your comm, and your go bag,” Tech said. “You will need them. Hurry, Omega.”

She grabbed the bag and checked the comlink ,still attached to her wrist. She looked to the mess of the console for Tech’s glasses, where were they, probably somewhere in the wreck of the console, she couldn’t leave them- 

“They’re in your go bag,” Tech said. “Don’t worry about them. I’m always with you, regardless. Speaking of go, you must be going-”

She jumped out of the hatch and ran, able to make it on the other side of a steep ridge before her ship blew. She gave it a moment of silence, wincing at the thought of the tirade she was going to get from her squad commander. 

At least she’d be alive to hear it.

Had Tech been here? She’d dreamed of him, or she thought she had - could you dream while knocked unconcious? 

He’d woken her up. They’d been in their creaky little house on the cliffside in Pabu, and he’d wanted her help with something. 

Tech had never lived in that house, though. Never even got to see it. 

She rummaged through the bag hanging from her side, panic rising until she finally found them - his glasses. She felt sure she’d left them on the top of her console as she usually did, but here they were. 

I’m always with you, regardless.

She pressed them to her chest, briefly, then returned them to the bag and thought about her next move.

[wifetomegatron]

Imagine Cybertronians trying to understand the concept of motherhood when they are, as a species, sterile. I would assume Cybertron, was born with an individualist culture, even before the war. Spark brothers exist, but that doesn’t carry the same gravity as being a mother. Conjunxes, friends, companions; they make the Cybertronian vernacular less lonely, less cold. But they ring empty next to the word mother — giver, carrier. How painfully gentle must the word be, the role even more so.

One of the human liaisons is a single mother, and she had no choice but to bring her child with her, well aware that the ship was no place for her son. And yet, circumstances were difficult: no one was surprised at the lack of equal treatment for working mothers — and so she never lets the child out of sight. And this had sparked a few curious questions from the crew. 

Tailgate, specifically, found the idea weird. Why does the little human struggle with feeding themselves? Or why can't they accomplish basic, ordinary tasks? The minibot knew he could be dependent, but this was just overboard. She had to explain to him that humans were different.

If Cybertronians were forged and welded, humans were moulded. They need to be shaped as they mature.

Humans don't come with a series of pre-programmed instructions. Those are nurtured into us. And no, Tailgate, they are not transferred through the umbilical cord.  

(Pregnancy was another complicated — if not terrifying — phenomenon for Tailgate.)

He's old enough to feed himself. I just don't want him to be alone, the mother smiled, bouncing the giggling toddler in her arms. That's why he has his mommy.

After that, Tailgate found the concept rather convenient, if not unfair: why is it that the small human gets to have someone to care for them, hold them, and love them all day long, and Cybetronians don't? The liaison had laughed, noting that the bot still had a long way to go to understand if he continued to dumb down the idea of ‘motherhood’ as simply being someone’s daily caretaker. 

Until an incident rocked the ship, and the Lost Light had a close encounter with the DJD. Only then did they see it : the teeth and claws and fear behind her usual, gentle eyes — how the liaison had carelessly thrown herself in front of Tarn, defiant and loud, mustering more courage than her trembling body could hold to put herself between his blaster and her child. The DJD leader’s optics had widened with something akin to shock, melting to interest as he faltered, just for a few seconds, at the blasphemous show of courage. That was the distraction Ultra Magnus needed to land the blow to save them. And once the crew was back in hyperspace, lightyears away and safe and quiet — she wept in relief. 

She tried to soothe her cub, choking on her tears to pretend she wasn't afraid. And it did not matter to the child whether her strength was tangible or not. He was in his mother’s arms. And to him, it was enough. Always, it was enough. 

Magdalene and the sword of grief; Loss decorated the long history of this million-year war between Autobots and Decepticons. And yet they never ring heavy with the cry of a mother who had lost a child. It had been a close call. Too close. Rodimus immediately ordered tighter security, and there was a shift in the air as everyone returned to their stations.

Mommy’s here. The mother crooned, stroking the hair of her child as the baby sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. And something sad and heavy tugged itself against the strings of Tailgate’s spark.

He finally understands. 

inspired by this post <3

[joelsbloodyhands]

MANDALORIAN IMAGINE

Din didn’t realise you have piercings

DESCRIPTION: You tend to Din’s injuries caused by a weapon you didn’t know he was carrying. In the process of cleaning his wounds, he learns something new about you too.

WARNINGS: Din getting hurt, blood, discussion of injuries, open cuts, discussions involving medical equipment, references to shooting guns, Din being a big dumb dumb getting himself injured 😈 newly established relationship, bossy behaviour, basically Din getting injured and he’s not used to being taken care of, reader has seen Din’s face before, established clan/family, just fluff.

A/N: I actually stole this from a draft series I was writing and liked the little snippet on its own so here ya go 😊 Note: Din has the dark saber in this plot but it isn’t mentioned that it takes place in any particular time during the Mandalorian series.

READER does not have a specified gender, they/them pronouns used. Reader is in an established romantic relationship with Din. Reader has parent relationship with Grogu (no gendered title used). Specific to this fic - reader does not have a visible disability and has hair long enough to be tucked behind their ear.

"Dank farrik!" Din exclaims, shooting back at the overconfident rodian chasing the Razor Crest down from the sandy floors of Tatooine. He’s out of breath, sending erratic shots back, warding off the rodian and it’s array of gang members. They had chased him all the way from Beggar’s Canyon, attempting to steal the head of a bounty that Din had managed with great difficulty to acquire. The head that now hung over his shoulder, bleeding through the make shift sack he’d half-heartedly tied it in. Din groans, glancing down at his throbbing shin. He struggles to keep balance on his right leg before being thrown across the cargo hold into the opposite wall when the ship thrusts up harshly towards the airspace.

“Din!” You yell, sliding down the ladder and shooting the airlock closed, preventing any further blaster fire from striking him. You look down at Din’s collapsed form slumped against the wall, gloved hand releasing some wiring he had grabbed to stop himself from rolling down the ramp completely.

Din immediately puts all his strength into shoving his feet into the steel floor, climbing his way up the wall awkwardly and stumbling into a standing position. It’s then you notice his leg, horror reaching your features. Before you can grab his arm, he staggers past you, throwing the disgusting sack off his back and into the corner of the cargo hold before uncomfortably climbing the ladder with pained groans. You follow, scrambling up the ladder after him, your head popping out of the narrow entryway to watch Din collapse into his chair and pull the crest off into the stars.

Wanting nothing more than to tend to his injury, the sound of cries catch your attention, your head whipping around to lower deck. Din’s head arches back while he controls the ship but your body slides down the ladder hurriedly. Din listens, while checking the navigator as he hears you gather your son and murmur words of reassurance to calm him down. Din releases a heavy breath, his teeth gritting as he feels the clothing covering his lower leg to stain coldly with his seeping blood. When he finally manoeuvres the ship far from the desert planet, he hits it into hyperspace and drops his head back against the chair, head spinning.

“Din!” You call again, your arms dragging you achingly back up the ladders after laying Grogu back down, his upset momentarily subsiding. Din feels his eyes growing heavy until your hands find his shoulders urgently, turning the chair harshly to the side to allow more room for you to kneel before him. You yank his shin armor off and tear open the already gaping hole of his flight suit.

“Shit, Din,” you grasp his leg where the wound is causing Din’s eyes to burn, pain erupting around every nerve. You look up at him in worry as he breathes heavily and goes to stand but he collapses just as you hold out your arms. You hitch a breath, trying to gain air back into your lungs after he knocks it out of you when you realise he’s heavier than you realised covered in beskar.

“I’m okay,” Din barely manages, his voice strained.

“No you’re not,” you assert, eyebrows furrowing in your difficulty to maintain his weight. You attempt to manoeuvre him to the ground, causing you to fall back with him in the process until you eventually manage to set him upright against the control panel, legs flat out in front of him.

Meanwhile you turn your head to notice a pair of green ears and big eyes watching you from the entry. You smile weakly at your son who watches you both silently.

“What happened?” You ask, pulling your vibro-knife from your ankle strap and using it to cut through the rest of Din’s clothes to give you access to his sliced leg. You wince as you realise how deep it is, hand palming your temple in confusion as to why the skin surrounding appears burnt and smells charred.

“I…it’s my fault…” Din manages slowly.

You frown, “How?”

In the midst of you tearing at his clothes, he shakily pulls the saber from his waist and holds it out to you, breathing heavily with his head back. You look to it inquisitively before Din pulls it to the side and unsheathes the glowing blade.

Your eyes widen.

“What the kriff is that?”

Din pulls the blade back in and sets it down, his head cocking to the side to analyse you.

"Called the...huff…dark saber. I…huff…caught myself with…huff…it."

You shake your head, completely bewildered by this foreign object but more angry at it for causing your love so much harm. And at his own doing.

"Stop talking. Stay here. Don’t move. I mean it."

He watches you stand up uneasily, sliding back down the ladder and listening to you rummaging around while he tries to regain his breath. His hands go to his helmet but his arms ache so he drops them before he can remove it.

You’re in front of him again before he can call for you, shaking bacta spray when he says your name. You lift your head, frozen by his sudden flinch when you angle the nozzle over his wound.

“My helmet.”

Your face falls, giving him a knowing look which he takes as you asking him if he’s absolutely sure.

He nods in response and you place the bacta spray down, hesitantly placing your hands on either side of the cold beskar and lift it from his head. What greets you is his flushed, sweat-stained features. His dark curls plastered meticulously over his forehead, skin lightly blushed red from enduring the heat of the hot planet and marvellous brown eyes meeting yours.

“Thank you,” Din smiles meekly at you.

You evade his gaze immediately, cheeks growing hotter at his unmodulated voice and softening gaze. Din had only recently started removing his helmet around you and even then it was a rare occurrence. You nervously mutter a “sure” before turning your attention back to his wound.

Once again, you angle the nozzle and spray a generous amount of the fluid over the wide gash. You watch as it gently binds the skin together and closes the wound slightly while Din groans at the stinging, burning sensation, biting his lip harshly. You frown unhappily at his discomfort, placing a hand on his shoulder and massaging gently to ease him.

Knowing you need to prevent him from moving around and get him as comfortable as possible, you move your hands towards his beskar chest plate but hesitate.

Din’s eyes meet yours knowingly, “go ahead”.

You nod and start working to remove his armor piece by piece until he’s in nothing but his torn flight suit. You’re completely in awe at the pile of metal next to you, having never truly realised just how much weight he carries daily.

From a medical kit you had retrieved along with the bacta spray, you begin working to dab gauze and bind his leg with bandages.

Din watches you.

His eyes monitoring your facial expressions, wincing along with his pain. He finds himself starting to calm as he watches you work away. His hand trails subconsciously and tiredly across your shoulder. You notice but try not to seem alarmed by his sudden touches.

Din pushes a strand of your hair back behind your ear, revealing some shiny adornments he remembered noticing once before but never took the time to look at.

Most of the piercings look like parts, screws, and bolts that have been modified into jewellery. An array of colours from dolovite, steel, and gold. Some with attachments hanging down, tickling your neck. Din’s fingers running compellingly across small stones. Some of which he could only identify as Heart of Fire, a burnt orange-red that contrasted perfectly against your skin. He admires them, painting a picture of when you may have gotten such things done.

Had you done it yourself or gone to a vendor?

“Do you like them?” Your quiet voice breaks his trance.

“Hmm?” He hums, his finger smoothing across the arch of your ear thoughtfully, making a shiver run up your spine.

You dare look to him and it’s then he stops his movements having not realised how intimate it seemed.

“My earrings,” you murmur.

Rendering you speechless, he smiles but it’s the smile that’s so heart shattering, it has your knees shaking.

“I do,” he returns tenderly.

You lower your head, trying to hide your flustered expression as you cut the bandage away and rub at his leg gently.

“You’re all good. You need to stay off your feet for a while,” you instruct gently.

“I will. Thank you,” he responds, dropping his hand from your shoulder and assessing the bandage with a grimace.

“You better,” you playfully threaten, holding the scissors to him causing him to grin at you making you blush incredibly and turn away.

Din clears his throat, “We can lay low in Coruscant.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, before getting up to turn your head towards a small green bean of an intruder eavesdropping on your conversation. Your sons little padded footsteps wander over, big brown orbs focused on his fathers injury and whining unhappily.

“It’s okay, bub,” you reassure when he gets close enough to place a small clawed hand on Din’s foot. Din watches you, heart fluttering as you lift your son into your arms and rock him gently. Grogu clings onto your shirt, looking up at you and then back to his father, clearly still distressed.

“Is he okay?” Din inquires, trying and failing to lean forward off the control panel behind him.

“Shaking but he’ll be okay,” your eyes run protectively over your son, fingers stroking light touches over his ear.

You walk over to Grogu’s chair, sitting him down while Din attempts standing up uneasily before limping over to the both of you. At the sound of his footsteps, you turn swiftly, eyes narrowing on him and arms folding disapprovingly.

“What did I say, Din?”

He sighs, “I know what you said.” He hobbles over and puts a hand on Grogu’s head, towering over you both. “I just want to check on the kid.”

“He’s okay,” you reassure gently but firmly.

“And you?” You feel so small compared to Din when he moves closer, his head just above yours with warm eyes fixating down at you with concern.

You nod and give him a small smile, “I’m okay.”

Din nods back slowly and you watch his eyes run over your features almost trying to gauge an understanding that you’re not lying to him. It seems what he finds there eases him and his shoulders finally relax.

“Good. I’m sorry about that. Thank you for having my back,” you close your eyes when he lets his forehead knock yours carefully. You smile nervously when you feel his other hand touch your waist ever so gently, arm curving around your lower back to pull you closer. You breathe him in, adoring this domestic side of him. Each hand protectively holding the two people most dear to him.

“Of course,” you lean into him, your nose gently nudging his. Din smiles.

Grogu cooes at you both.

“You should rest,” you open your eyes, meeting Din’s affectionate but tired gaze. He nods and gently sways your body contentedly in his hold.

“We all should,” he looks back to Grogu, his grabby hands flailing towards the Crests shifter knob. Din reaches for it and you watch him pass the small ball to the babbling child, “It’ll take some time to get to Coruscant.”

[mandos-mind-trick]

The Video - Part 2

Summary: You and Cody race to do damage control after his mistake.

Pairing: Commander Cody x reader

Warnings: Lots of mentions of a sex tape, excessive use of the word ass, men being gross (not clones though they're gentlemen...well...most of them), may give you secondhand embarrassment, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, feelings, okay it's mostly a crackfic more than anything else

A/N: Whatever aligned in the universe that allowed me to pump out 4k words today after a week of nothing, bless you. The long awaited sequel. I decided not to add in smut since it didn't really feel right. It's kinda serious with lots of jokes thrown in to lighten it up. Also a few hints at some...things, so...if you can figure those out then cookies for you!!

< Previous | MASTERLIST

You hit him with surprising strength. Maybe it was the anger burning through you, or perhaps it was the shock he had to be feeling that left him so vulnerable and allowed for you to force him into the supply closet rather easily. 

“What the fuck did you do?” You hiss at him under your breath as soon as the door closes. 

He’s standing there, wide eyed and lips parted as he tries to process what he had just seen. You’re angry. Beyond angry. It burns through you red hot, heating your entire body so much you feel like you’re standing next to an open fire. Shame also burns through you, fueling the fire. The entire GAR has seen parts of you that were meant to be kept private. Though it would be impossible for anyone to figure out it was you, the knowledge that likely even GAR command and the Generals have seen you naked by this point is enough to send you spiraling. 

“How the fuck did this happen, Cody?” You breathe, trying to calm yourself enough that you don’t punch the Marshal Commander standing in front of you. 

“I-I don’t know.” He says, running a hand through his hair, brows furrowing in stress. “I swear I dropped it into my private files.” 

“Well, you obviously didn’t!” You snap, not even feeling guilty when he flinches. “Now my bare ass is all over the GAR network.” 

“It’s a nice ass.” He shrugs. 

He nearly folds under your glare. You could probably scare the General with a look like that. 

“Fix this.” You grit out from between your teeth. 

He nods slowly, brain trying to get over the shock of what had happened and formulate a plan at the same time. “Right. I can access the GAR servers and delete the video. That will prevent anyone from accessing it and downloading it. Of course, if it’s already been downloaded, then that’s going to pose an issue.” 

“Yeah? Figure that out too.” You take a deep breath, holding it for a moment before you let it out. “I’m going to go do my job and when I’m done, that video better be history.” You command. 

He has half a mind to salute you, but you might actually hit him. 

***

You hate it. Every person you pass, clone or civilian, on the way from the barracks to the hangar is a reminder of what happened. They’ve likely all seen the video. You wouldn’t be surprised if it made it past the confines of the GAR and onto the holoweb for anyone in the galaxy to see.

You can just imagine the title it’s been bestowed with. 

“Hot chick bangs clone trooper.” 

“Human girl takes huge clone dick.” 

“Barrack bunny commands clone trooper in bed.” 

“Sexy civilian fucks the brain right out of a Marshal Commander causing him to accidentally upload their sex tape onto the GAR server.” 

You want to scream. You had screamed into your pillow before exiting the barracks. You could scream again. You could scream until you have no voice left. 

You curse hyperspace as you make your way into the hangar. If the ship had still been docked on Coruscant, you might have just packed your bag and deserted the army. Hidden out in the underworld until it was safe for you to emerge. If you emerged at all. Instead you’re stuck on this floating prison hurtling at light speed through hyperspace to its next battle with all of its inhabitants replaying your sex tape over and over. 

You really want to scream as you spot your fellow civilian mechanics all huddled around a datapad. You don’t have to approach to know what they’re watching. Everyone was watching it.

“Hey, have you seen the video?” One of your coworkers asks as you grab a different datapad. 

You fight the inner panic rising. You have to play this cool. Any strange behavior or answer might make them suspicious. “Yeah.” You answer, not looking up. “Who hasn’t?” 

“Kriff, I wish that were me.” Another one says. “She’s so hot!” 

Your hands tighten just a little around the datapad. Being forced into a room of people watching the video was hard enough. The commentary is going to make you snap. 

“Who do you think it is?” Your coworker asks as he leans his arm on your shoulder. 

“Don’t know.” You duck out from under him, nearly making him fall over. “All I’ve heard is it’s probably some barrack bunny.” Saying it nearly has your cheeks burning again. 

“Whoever she is, I’d like to know so I can hit her up, if you know what I mean.” He wiggles his eyebrows, the others all laughing. 

“We have work to do.” You snap, holding up the datapad in your hand. “We have inspections to do and not a lot of time to do them.” 

They all grumble, but they know you’re right. If you can’t get the inspection report to the Admiral in time, you’ll all have hell to pay. 

“You’re awful tense this morning.” Your coworker says as he follows you to the nearest gunship. 

“We have a lot to do before the boys can ship out.” You say. “And you’re sitting around watching porn.” 

“We’re just having fun.” He shrugs. 

“Have fun on shore leave.” You push the datapad into his chest a little too hard. “You’re on duty as soon as you step on this ship.” 

“Obviously not everyone agrees with that.” Another coworker says as he passes by, making everyone laugh. 

You’re fuming. You had thought you could play it cool, but you should have known better. You’re one of the few women on this ship, the others all being medics. Of course they wouldn’t care about some poor girl being broadcast across the GAR for anyone to see, regardless of who it was. 

You should have gone to medical school. 

“Aww man. It’s gone.” Someone complains. 

You step around a gunship out of sight, leaning against the side. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, the tenseness of your shoulders easing. At least Cody had managed that bit. 

“Don’t worry, I downloaded it.” 

The relief is gone.

***

“I know the food’s bad, but I don’t think glaring at it is going to change anything.” 

You nearly jump as a tray is placed next to yours. You look stressed, you know you do. You had barely managed to get through half of the day between your coworkers comments and the video constantly being replayed around you despite it being removed from the server. 

Waxer and Boil seat themselves on either side of you. Two clone troopers you were hoping to avoid. It wasn’t that you didn’t like them. You love Waxer and Boil. They never cease to make you laugh and you consider them your friends. But you know they’re going to want to talk about the video. The last thing you want to do right now is talk about the video. You’re at your limit, and you might do something stupid. 

“The General is calling a meeting later.” Waxer says. “I bet it’s about the video.” 

“I overheard Cody saying all the Legions are holding meetings to talk about it.” Boil says. “Probably gonna come up with some kind of punishment for watching it on duty.” 

Good. You think. At least that way you could avoid it during the work day. Of course, you’ll have to avoid common areas for a while.

“We’ve got a plan, though.” Boil continues. 

Your breath catches in your lungs. Your hand tightens around your fork, the lumps of “food” on your tray looking even less appetizing than they had moments ago. 

“We’re going to figure out who it is.” Waxer says, leaning in close. “We’ve already got some headway in our quest.” 

You take a sip of your drink, wishing it was something much stronger. “Like what?” You ask, cursing the way your voice shakes. 

Boil pulls out a datapad, setting it up right in front of you so all three of you can see. You wish you could be anywhere but here right now he pulls up screenshots of the video. Thankfully they’re zoomed in, any shots of your body, or Cody’s are unrecognizable and blurry. 

Boil flips through screenshot after screenshot. “It’s definitely a commander, whoever it was.” He says. “These are commander's quarters on a starship. And it’s definitely a clone.” He says, flipping through very zoomed in shots of Cody’s lower body. 

“Too bad she’s human. Would have been really easy to figure out who it was if she wasn’t.” Waxer says, wiggling his brows. 

You know what they’re implying. They probably deserve a reprimand for even suggesting it, for speaking about a General and a commander in that way, but you don’t have it in you to scold them. Besides, it’s not exactly a secret that rumors float around about the 327th. 

You can’t say much, you’re fucking a Marshal Commander of the GAR. Well, you were. 

Cody will be lucky if you let him within breathing distance of you ever again. 

“We’re looking at any possible identifying marks on either of them.” Waxer says. “We may be clones, but we do have subtle differences.” 

“Besides, I’m not likely to forget a body like that.” Boil says, whistling lowly as he flips to a screenshot of you on your stomach, the curves of your body very visible from the angle.

You wore your loosest fitting uniform today for that very reason. One less chance of someone staring at you just a little too hard, in the video and in person. 

You just hope Waxer and Boil don’t have that kind of intimate knowledge of Cody’s anatomy. 

“So, what do you say?” Boil asks, pulling you from your thoughts. “You in?” 

You blink at him for a moment. “Oh, uh, I’m kind of busy right now. Inspections and stuff, you know.” You stand, not having touched your food but you haven’t had much of an appetite all day. “But, uh, let me know if you do figure it out?” 

You’d know if they did really figure it out regardless. 

***

You want to cry. You feel like you might as you enter your barracks. The medics are on break, their last moment to get some rest before the guys ship out tomorrow and they begin a long stretch of treating injuries. 

Naturally, they’re all discussing the video. 

Sitting through the meeting with the entirety of the population on The Negotiator had almost been unbearable. You had been squished between Waxer and Boil and their quiet discussion of their investigation hadn’t helped any. They weren’t much closer to figuring out who it was in the video, but they were determined. 

You’re not sure you’ve seen them so determined about anything since the last prank they pulled on Cody. 

You had been able to see Cody from where you were sitting. He had been cool and collected as always, nothing to give any hint at his involvement in the situation. Nothing to hint he was the reason they were having it in the first place. 

You wished you could have that much composure. 

Listening to the General and the Admiral discuss the situation and the video had felt almost demeaning. The shame that had coursed through you was enough to send your head spinning. You had feigned exhaustion, glad it was Boil next to you as you leaned against him for support. 

At least they had banned it from being played on duty or in any common areas. 

The GAR was calling for all datapads to be wiped as well, to remove any downloads or copies of the video that might slip through the cracks. That would have to wait until after the campaign, though. 

You silently thank Cody. As mad as you were at him, he was at least trying to rectify this. You’re not sure you’ll be able to forgive him, or trust him with something like this again, but he was trying. 

“It’s demeaning, just standing around watching things like that.” One of the medics says as you sink down on your thin mattress. It’s far from comfortable, but right now, you’d take anything. 

You’re exhausted from the stress of the day. It feels like it’s been a week, not a few hours since Cody’s mistake. It almost feels surreal now that your homemade sex tape found its way onto the GAR server for anyone to see. For all of the GAR to see. They had seen, even the higher ups. Even the Jedi. 

You lay yourself out, covering your face with the pillow. You wish you could disappear, that some portal might open under your bed and swallow you whole. 

“I can only imagine how your day went.” Your bunk mate says, squeezing your leg. “Alone with all those men in the hangar.” 

“It was nonstop.” You say, lifting the pillow just enough that your words are audible. “All day. Playing it, talking about it.” 

“At least they’re banning it from work spaces.” She says, climbing onto the bunk. “If I have to hear it one more time I’m going to smash all the datapads on this ship.” 

“Whoever she is, she’s one lucky girl.” Someone else says. 

Calls of agreement ring out around the barracks. 

“What I wouldn’t give to bag just one of them, and there’s some lucky lady out there with a commander totally in love with her.” She sighs, dropping dramatically on her bed. 

“How do you know they’re in love?” You ask, removing the pillow from your face. 

“Just by the way they interact.” The girl on the bunk beside yours says. “The way he touches her, the way he moves. He’s down bad for her.” 

You try to keep your cheeks from warming once again. Is Cody in love with you? You had never teased the idea. What you two had was purely physical, good fun and stress release. Nothing more. Or...was it? Even in your roughest, most desperate moments there was a tenderness to Cody when it came to you. You should feel at least a little proud that you made the pinnacle of control that was Marshal Commander Cody so pussy drunk he messed up in the worst way possible, but was there more to it? 

Is Cody in love with you? 

***

You’re half asleep at breakfast. The campaign will begin in a matter of hours. It will be quiet for a while for you at the start before the calls start coming in. Ships coming back for emergency servicing, requests for more ammo, more supplies, more ships, more troops. You’d be in the heat of it in the hangar, and the chances you’d get to rest over the next few weeks were going to be few and far between. 

So were your chances to see Cody. 

You jump as trays hit the table next to you, blinking away the bleariness as you glance between Waxer and Boil. They’re both grinning, mischievous glints in your eyes. You’ve gone the whole two hours you’ve been up without thinking about the video, too tired to put much thought into it, but now...now you’re worried. 

Had they figured it out somehow? 

Waxer sets a datapad in a familiar spot in front of you at the table. He pulls up a screenshot from the video, obviously not deterred by the new rules about having the video in common areas. 

“Look.” Waxer says, pointing to a very blurry, zoomed in screenshot of the side of Cody’s ass. “There’s a mark right there.” 

You squint at the blurry dark spot. You wipe the screen to make sure it’s not something stuck, but it’s not. There is, in fact, a small dark spot on Cody’s ass. You’ve never noticed it before. 

“Okay?” You say, staring at the screen still. 

“I don’t have one of those.” Waxer says. 

“Neither do I. We checked.” Boil continues. “We checked with a few others too. So whoever this is, has a unique spot right on his ass.” 

“And...what do you plan to do with this information?” You ask, looking between them. “Ask every clone commander in the GAR to pull down his pants so you can check for a spot on his ass cheek?” 

Waxer rests his chin on his hand, brows furrowing. “That is going to be a complication.” 

“Besides, how can you be sure it was a commander?” You continue, desperate to get them off the case before either they figured it out, or got in trouble for still having the video and many, many screenshots of it. “How do you know it’s not someone else using the commander’s quarters for more privacy. I wouldn’t want to film in the barracks if it were me.” 

They share a look over your head. “You’re right. This is going to be harder than we thought.” 

You pat their shoulders as you stand, an idea beginning to form in your mind. “Worry about the battle right now. You can do this when you get back.” 

You give them both a smile before you head towards the hangar, your stomach fluttering nervously. You hadn't slept much last night, your thoughts racing, replaying and analyzing every interaction you’ve had with Cody, both private and public. Things you might have overlooked, hidden signs that he harbors more for you than just lust.

You had also come up with a plan, a plan you were determined to enact before he shipped off to the planet where he’d spend what was going to likely be weeks in the heat of battle. He’d be planetside the entire fight, doing his job as commander. 

You nervously rock on your toes as you wait for Cody. You hadn’t warned him you were waiting, hadn’t told him you were going to confront him. He probably had so much to think about, so much to worry about the last thing he needs is an ambush by you, but you have to know. You have to know before you’re stuck worrying for weeks whether or not you’ll ever get to know. 

You all but ram into him, sending him stumbling into a closet as he walks by. It’s nothing but fate that you were alone in the hallway, that no one was walking by or walking with him to prevent this from happening. 

He rights himself as the closet door closes, staring at you with wide eyes. His gaze softens, an almost guilty look crossing his face as he recognizes you. He says your name quietly, the guilt prevalent in his tone. 

“I’m so sorry.” He says, avoiding looking at you. “I should have been more careful. I put us both at risk and then everyone was talking about it all day and I can’t imagine how horrible it was for you to have to listen to that nonstop.” 

“Yeah, it was pretty awful.” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgive me. I wouldn’t blame you if you said you never wanted to see me again. You didn’t deserve this and it’s not fair to you. I know my apologies don’t mean anything, and it can never totally be undone, but I’ve been trying hard to rectify this and-” 

“Shut up.” You cut him off. You kind of liked him groveling a bit and it was reassuring he at least feels bad for it. You knew it wasn’t intentional. You knew he didn’t mean to do it. You know he feels bad, he’ll likely always feel bad about it. He can save the apologies for later. You need to ask him before you lose your nerve. “Shut up and listen.”

He blinks at you in surprise, but he stays quiet. You’d get one hell of a reprimanding if you ever spoke like that to him outside private spaces. 

You take a breath, staring into those dark eyes. “Do you love me?”

His eyes widen just a bit, lips parting as he takes in your words. It’s bold, asking so directly, but you don’t have a lot of time. He’s shipping out in less than an hour. You could save the fluffy words for when he comes back. 

“Some of the girls in the barracks last night were talking about the video and they said they could tell they love each other just by the way they move. The way you touch me.” You step up closer to him, close enough to touch. “I never noticed it, I never really bothered to. I didn’t think...it was just supposed to be for pleasure, right? But...someone who’s supposed to be just a casual fling isn’t supposed to look at me like that.” 

He gulps, his hand slowly lifting to your arm. His gloved fingers are warm, even through the thick material of your uniform. You know what they feel like against your bare skin. You know how dangerous those hands can be, but you also know how soft they can be. How gentle. 

How loving. 

“It’s a risk.” He finally says, breaking eye contact. “Fraternization of any kind could lead to decommission, even a court-martial. If anyone found out...both of us would get in trouble. It would be an abuse of authority, we could both face consequences...” 

Your stomach starts to sink. He’d never voiced his concerns to you. You knew it was a risk getting involved with him, you knew what would happen if anyone found out. He had never shown any concern for the rules. Perhaps, though, with his mistake, his mind had changed.

“I never cared.” He continues, his fingers trailing up to your shoulder. “It was worth the risk, you were worth the risk. It was supposed to be casual. Nothing more than some stress release. Plenty of others do it.” His hand continues to your neck, cupping the back of it. “It wasn’t supposed to become love.” 

His words take a moment to process in your mind. He loves you. He loves you. It is true. It wasn’t just your mind playing tricks on you, hoping for something more in those glances, in those touches. 

Cody loves you. 

“Cody,” You whisper as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t know how. I wasn’t sure it was what you wanted.” His breath is warm across your face. You’ve been this close before, you’ve been closer before, but none of it had felt like this. “I would happily suffer in silence if it meant I got to keep you forever.” 

You laugh, lifting your hands to cup his face. “You idiot.” Your thumbs rub his cheeks. “I love you too.” 

He closes the distance between you two, kissing you softly. It’s different from the other kisses you’ve shared. The passionate ones, the heated ones in the throes of lust. This one is soft, emotional, full of the unspoken love you both share. 

You hate having to pull away from him as his comm beeps. You hate that you’ve waited this long to notice, this long to say anything. He’s going away to war where the chances of him dying are high, and you’ll be stuck here, helpless to listen to the comms and hope his name doesn’t come up, or his body isn’t delivered on a gunship. 

“Say it.” You whisper, holding him close to you just for a moment longer. 

“I love you.” He says it with such conviction it almost knocks you off your feet. 

A smile tugs at your lips as you release him, letting him adjust himself before you sneak out of the closet. The halls are thankfully empty as everyone is gathering to prepare for shipping out. You wish you could hold his hand as you walk, but it’s too risky. Even if you managed to brush it off as nothing but emotional support for the rapidly approaching campaign, there’s too much going on right now. 

The last thing you need is someone else investigating you two and finding out Cody does, in fact, have a mark on his ass cheek that matches the one in the video. 

“Commander Cody.” 

A voice at the other end of the hall has you both freezing. Your heart drops into your stomach, and your stomach drops through the floors under you and out the bottom of the ship. You both turn, your face probably a painting of guilt and terror as you face General Kenobi. 

“Sir.” Cody salutes him.

You manage a stiff salute as well. 

“We’re deploying in ten minutes.” General Kenobi says. “It’s time for a final gear check.” 

“Yes, sir.” Cody nods, gripping his helmet just a little tighter. 

“Also,” Your hope for a quick retreat is squashed as the General eyes you both. “I would suggest a little more care is used when saving your...personal files.” 

You think you might die on the spot, a nervous sweat breaking out across your entire body. He knows. He knows and you’re about to get fired, or worse, court-martialed. It’s over. It’s over before it even got a chance to start. 

“I will see you in the hangar in eight minutes.” He says before walking past you to the lifts. 

You stare after him in shock. The General knew. He knew it was at least Cody in the video. He hadn’t seemed like he was going to report you, in fact he hadn’t seemed bothered at all. 

You turn to look at Cody wide eyed. “He knows.” 

Cody nods. “Yes. He does.” 

Your gaze moves back to the lifts, your heart pounding rapidly in your chest. You’re not sure you’re going to last with all the stress, and there’s still an entire campaign to get through. 

“Wait-” You hold your hand out before Cody can walk away. “How exactly did he know it was you?” 

Cody’s lips lift in a smirk, his shoulder lifting in a shrug. “No idea. Must be a Jedi thing.” 

You squint your eyes at his back as he makes his way to the lifts. “Yeah, a ‘Jedi thing.’” 

***

Everyone is exhausted. You can feel it in the air without even having to look at anyone. Even those of you that hadn’t seen any combat were feeling it, your own feet dragging as you move through the mess line. You need a long sleep and a few stiff drinks before you’ll even begin to feel back to normal. Everyone is moving slowly, bodies slumped over trays at tables, some having even fallen asleep sitting up. 

You drag yourself to the table Cody is sitting at, taking the seat across from him. You stare down at the “food” on your tray, none of it appetizing but you are hungry. 

You also haven’t heard mention of the video in weeks. 

It’s been a nice break, everyone too focused on staying alive and keeping others alive to make any mention of it. Things have settled and before long some other controversy will start and most of them will forget it ever happened. 

Two trays hit the table on either side of you, making you jump. You glance to both sides as Waxer and Boil take their seats next to you. They both look tired, but they also look disappointed. 

“What happened to you two?” You ask, looking between the two pouting clones. 

“Someone deleted all our research.” Boil says. “Every last screenshot and file is gone.” 

You pout in sympathy, patting his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know you put a lot of work into that.” 

He nods. “We were so close. Now it was all for nothing.” 

You glance across at Cody’s raised eyebrow, giving him a sly wink before you go back to comforting the two dejected clones. 

Taglist:

@kaminocasey, @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @sinfulsalutations

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Red Eyes (Angst)

All Foot!Turtles x reader

A/N: Really wanted to add the Foot Turtles onto my masterlist, so I quickly wrote this for ya’ll🖤

Warnings: Assault? (Not AS)

As you walked down the street, you kept looking at your phone with your brows frowning. He was supposed to have texted you by now. It had been several hours, but he still hadn't texted you like he usually would. Whenever your turtle boyfriend and his brothers returned from their trip into hyperspace, in the search for their father, he would usually text you, letting you know that he was back, safe and in a full piece. But so far, he hasn't texted you. It was getting late, and even as you were returning home from your closing shift, you still haven’t heard a word from him.

You couldn’t help but get worried, fearing that something might have happened in hyperspace. But not being one wanting to jump to conclusions, you texted him, asking if he was okay, before making your way from your workplace to the subway. But when he still hasn't texted you as you reached your station, you could not stop from texting April. Maybe she knew something?

As you walked from the station and down the nearest street, making a shortcut to your come, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You pulled it out, hoping to see the name of your boyfriend illuminate your screen. But instead it was April, with a text you did not expect to see from her.

Where are you?

You stopped in your tracks, looking at your phone in confusion. Your fingers tapping away on the keyboard as you answered her.

On my way home. Why?

You clicked send, hoping to get an answer from April as soon as possible. But before that could happen, you heard a loud cumpotion not far from you, resulting in a guy behind thrown across the street. You yelped as he landed in front of you, looking down at him as he groaned out in pain on the ground. You froze at the sight. It was a Purple Dragon.

You looked up in the direction he came from, finding a figure standing not far away with their back to you. Even though they were dressed in black, you recognized the familiar outline, bringing you some comfort, your shoulders coming down from their tense position, letting out a sigh of relief.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you”, you said, practically stepping over the Purple Dragon as if he wasn't there. “I was so worried that something had happened to you”, you continued, not noticing how he hadn’t even turned to face you yet, even with you just a few feet away. “But really babe, don’t scare me like that. I even texted April…” You halted when you finally noticed that your boyfriend still hadn't turned. The tails of his black bandana flowing in the middle wind… hold on… black bandana?

“Babe, why are you wearing black?”, you asked. But you were met with silence. “Babe”, you said a little more sternly, reaching out to touch him on the shoulder. But then, with a sudden movement he turned and grabbed your hand, before you would reach him. You gasped out loud when he looked at you, the red eyes of his black mask staring you down. The red Foot marks standing out on his shoulders, as if they were turning on like a light.

There was no expression in his face, no recognition. He just stared at you, not a word spoken. But he did tighten his grip around your wrist, lifting your arm up as he pulled you closer. It was not an affectionate action, but a threatening one. He was threatening you. Moving slow before the attack. The calm before the storm. You started moving against his grip, looking for a way out. Whoever this was, that was not the boyfriend that you loved so dearly. Whatever had happened to him, it was not the man standing before you right now.

“(Y/N)!”, you heard a familiar voice call out behind you. You looked over your shoulder, hearing the sound of a motorcycle coming closer and closer by the second. It was Casey, with his hockey mask down over his face, driving towards you and your strange acting boyfriend.

With a twist of his hand, Casey sped up his motorcycle, heading directly towards the two of you. This caused the hand around your wrist to loosen, before the mutant turtle jumped out of the way, just in time before Casey’s motorcycle could hit him.

Quickly stopping by your side, Casey turned to you, moving his mask up over his head. “Jump on! Hurry! I will explain later!”

You did as Casey told you to, quickly jumping on the back of his motorcycle, before he quickly drove down the street, leaving the mutant standing behind, staring after the two of you, causing a sting in your heart. But those red eyes. Something was very, very wrong. Something bad had happened to your boyfriend, and you fully intended to figure out what as soon as possible.

[lightwise]

Be There - Parts 1 & 2

Note: As I like to do (aka my brain holds me hostage until it is satisfied), I had to fill in a couple of moments that we didn’t get in S3 E4 - A Different Approach. I am approaching Tech and Echo’s absence as each character is aware of it so far—so whether he is dead or simply gone, mentions of Tech are not meant to imply that he is physically present in these scenes. 

Enjoy. 

Read both parts together here on AO3.

SPOILERS for season 3 of TBB ahead.

Part 1: Our mission isn’t over yet. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Wrecker stared unblinking at the yellow transmission light as it lit up for the third time. Hunter had stepped away from the console for a brief minute to rest his eyes. This wasn’t standard procedure. When Echo or Rex or Phee needed to reach them, they usually used their wrist comms or the portable holo. The inbuilt console had been…Tech’s domain. 

“Uh, Hunter…you might wanna see this.”

A gruff sigh came from the pilot’s seat. “See what, Wreck?” 

The last beep finally entered Hunter’s consciousness as he tried to brush off the weariness that threatened to overtake him. So far they were only a third of the way around the sector found in the data from Setron. More time had been lost taking the cadets all the way out to Pabu too (not that he regretted the stop). His mind couldn’t shut off, wouldn’t stop thinking through the next place they could look every time a planet turned up empty, but he could feel his ligaments starting to fray at the edges in protest. 

Wrecker would have pointed out that he had been falling apart at more than the edges for awhile now. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered until they brought her home. He just needed to keep it together until then. 

“I…I don’t remember what the codes mean but…isn’t that…does this…”

Hunter rubbed his eyes wearily, trying to get them to focus enough to read the sharp white letters that had appeared on the dashboard. Two innocuous lines, in an old coding sequence that Tech had set up before…he blinked that thought away. 

OM.P53.NMR.2SR. BT.

Plan 53 (all comms silent for a stealth rendezvous). Nearest moon of Ryloth. 2 standard rotations. Be there. 

But it was the first letters in the sequence that caused his heart to stop in his chest. 

“I shall make it so that the first two letters of each of our names signify who is sending the message. They should always be the first letters in the sequence.” A tilt of the head and a push of the goggles up his nose had accompanied Tech giving a very pointed look in Wrecker’s direction. “That should be easier to remember than full code names, I hope.”

OM. Omega. It couldn’t be. It had to be. Nobody outside of the Batch knew this frequency—or code.

“It’s HER.” 

He gripped the edge of the console in a daze. How?? She had escaped? She had somehow found a way to contact them. She…she was alive.

“But…how do we know for sure?” Wrecker’s eyebrows pinched together in concern. “After all the luck we’ve been having…what if this is a trap, Hunter?”

The words Hunter had said before their failed mission to Eriadu haunted him now, thrown back in his face like a taunt. He knew Wrecker didn’t mean it that way, though.

“I don’t think it’s a trap. I really don’t think so. But either way…we have to try it.” He glanced at the chronometer on the dash and pulled up the coordinates to Ryloth. “Especially this location…only Omega would have picked here, where she met Hera for the first time. She knows it will be off the radar but easy to get to. We can just make it if we get going now.” He had barely swung the pilot’s seat back around before furiously punching in the coordinates. 

The Marauder’s engines picked up from their lull as they launched forward into hyperspace. Wrecker slumped into the seat beside him, staring out the flickering blue around them for a long moment. He had picked up Lula from her perch on Omega’s blanket at some point, and was passing her tenderly back and forth in his hands. 

“I really hope you’re right.”

They cautiously exchanged glances as the shock and adrenaline of the last few minutes wore off. For the first time in a very, very, long time, Hunter felt the faintest flicker of something he could call hope. But he didn’t dare let it burst into full flame. Not yet. 

Wrecker suddenly chuckled and clapped his hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Ya know, we’re a mess. We really should clean up before we get there.” His voice lowered a bit as he added, “no reason making her worry any more than she probably already is at how rough we look.” 

Hunter scowled and pinched his brow. His brother was right. The lack of sleep and hygiene had caught up with them at this point, and they smelled worse than they looked. Omega would be able to see the wear and tear on their armor eventually, but at least they could be presentable to welcome her home. 

“Fine, I’ll go shower,” he huffed, giving Wrecker a strained grin that turned into a groan as he tore his limbs out of the seat. 

The view in the mirror only confirmed his disheveled state, and he groaned again as he tugged the bandana off his forehead and slumped against the fresher wall.

Please, please let this be real. I don’t know if I can bear another false lead.

They had crossed the galaxy five times at this point. He would a hundred more if that’s what it took. They didn’t leave their own behind.

Most of the time. 

His ears began ringing. The unbidden thought that had been slowly poking its way through his subconscious finally breached the surface. What if…what if Omega had been taken to the same facility as Crosshair. What if they had found each other? What if…she wasn’t alone?

Deke’s words had been painfully etching their way deeper and deeper into his heart since the boy had carelessly uttered them.

“At least you’re loyal.” 

If only he knew. Once Hunter had claimed those words proudly. It was the ethos he had lived by. Still wanted to live by. But…he wasn’t sure he deserved that label anymore. Too many mistakes had been made. He had failed too many times. 

Echo had told him once that their unbeatable streak on missions during the war wasn’t necessarily a good thing. And every time Hunter thought he was making the right decision, he ended up proving him right. He wasn’t prepared for the weight of failure. For the ways everything kept slipping through his clenched fists. For watching his brother point a rifle in his face and walk away. For not having the right words to bring him back. For all the ways he had to choose when there was no good choice to be had. For watching his entire world fall away. For picking shattered goggles up off the ground. For the dark and empty gunners mount that had been staring him in the face for five and a half months. 

Silver hair and a toothpick between thin lips suddenly floated in front of his eyes, sneering at him. Every choice you’ve made has been wrong. We’re all lost because of you. And then it shifted, the silver hair morphing into a scarred head and terrified, wide eyes that glistened with tears. Begging, pleading. Why weren’t you weren’t loyal to me?

No, no, no, NO. Hunter dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying desperately to stop the vortex spinning out of control inside his head. A sob escaped his lips as he collapsed onto the floor. He could never repair any of this. He didn’t know how. 

He sucked in a breath as he felt the faint pressure of a hand on his shoulder that couldn’t possibly be there. A clipped voice suddenly echoed through his mind. I have found that repairs, while daunting at first, simply take repeated effort and inclination in order to achieve them. It’s like a puzzle. The pieces are there, you just have to pay attention and take the time to put them back together. Steady hands. No Hunter, try moving it this way. See? I knew you could do it. 

If only he was here. Hunter wiped the traces of tears from his eyes as his hitched breathing slowly evened out. Whatever—whoever was waiting for them on that moon—he would have to face them. Whether it was a waking dream or another nightmare. He had crossed the galaxy five times in as many months. But he still hadn’t been able to outrun the pain. Hadn’t been able to outrun himself.  

It was time to try a different approach.   

Maybe not everything had to be lost. 

-----------

Part 2: You don’t know if they’re still alive.  

“They’ll be there.”

She had cut him off adamantly. The full force of her hope (her naïveté, he had called it just a few hours prior), pushing firmly against his gentle attempt at reason. 

Crosshair knew he wasn’t just trying to prepare Omega for the possibility that Hunter and Wrecker might not be waiting for them. For them? No, they would only be waiting for her. They had stopped waiting for him a long time ago.

No, his words were more an attempt at quelling his own twisted anxiety at the prospect of facing his brothers again. It had been…a year? More? Since he had stayed behind on that blasted platform. It felt like ten lifetimes ago now. So much had changed. He had changed. Or had he? 

 A staccato thud flung them out of hyperspace, the stolen freighter now drifting quietly past the two giant orange moons that guarded Omega’s choice of rendezvous. 

Still standing behind the copilot chair, his trained eye spotted the tiny speck of light coming from the open ramp of the Marauder. So they were alive. Of course. The tiniest twitch spasmed in Crosshair’s chest at the sight. 

That open door was for her, he reminded himself again. Not him. 

The girl stood unmoving as they touched down. Her spine straight, shoulders pulling down and back, and he could see the faintest reflection in the viewport of tears welling up in her eyes. 

The ramp began to lower and she suddenly came to life, arms and legs almost flailing in her haste to reach the ground. Though he could no longer see her face, as she paused at the last step Crosshair could tell that a weight had lifted from her shoulders. The weight of taking care of herself, taking care of him, getting them both to safety. 

She had accomplished her mission. 

He had to admit, he was impressed by her. Maybe he was starting to understand a little of how quickly Hunter’s loyalty had transferred to her, how she must have driven them all crazy at first with her bright-eyed optimism and inability to take no for an answer.

She really was the best of them. 

He sighed as her words echoed in his mind—“I’m not giving up, Crosshair! I won’t let you either.” Her stubbornness was certainly the family trait, and perhaps surpassed his own.  

Those words had somehow burrowed into his chest and wouldn’t leave. But they hadn’t shocked him. He expected her to say them to anyone. They fit perfectly within the love and loyalty she showed everyone around her.     

What had shocked him were the ones she said later, after he had tried every tactic he could think of to get her focus off of him and onto her own safety. He had long since accepted what the rest of his accelerated lifespan might be—serving as a test tube and punching bag for the Empire he had once sought glory from. How fitting, really. It was his penance, for everything he had done. Everything he had failed to do. 

Why should he have a chance to live when...he sighed again and pushed away the memories threatening to engulf him. Long brown hair and a beard blurred white with snow. Round, yellow-tinted lenses blinking pointedly in his direction. The remnants of a skull chalked onto the back wall of a bunk—just enough dust left to stain his fingers. 

“None of us belong here.”

The Empire changed people. For the worse. But after all those months of isolation, all his attempts to drive her away, to keep his distance so she would stay safe—he never expected for those wide eyes to practically beam sunlight at him in that force-forsaken, grey haze of a prison. She had seen him, then. Truly seen him for who he was—and still believed in him. In all of them.  

She had tried to give him the same outstretched hand many times before—during their desperate attempts to flee the sinking facilities of Kamino; on the sun-soaked platform after. In that makeshift holding cell after Kaller, where all of this had started. 

He wasn’t sure what surprised him more—that she had offered it one more time, or that he was finally willing to try and accept it. 

Batcher whined from her corner of the cockpit, tilting her head hesitantly at Crosshair as he remained fixated, unable to move from the viewport. His musings faded as he saw a shift in the light; Wrecker’s large form had suddenly darkened the doorway of the Marauder. 

Crosshair dug his spine into the door frame behind him, waiting. 

He didn’t have Hunter’s hearing, but he didn’t need it. He could imagine just how loud the shout of joy was that Wrecker let out as he ran to meet his little—their little sister. A faint smirk threatened to tilt his lips as the giant of a man lifted Omega high above his head and spun her around, wiping tears unashamedly from his eyes. Crosshair expected nothing less. He was sure there were matching tears streaming down Omega’s face as she clung desperately to her—their brother.

But where was…Crosshair’s eyes narrowed as they caught movement inside the Marauder. Was he truly prepared to see the etched face of his former leader, brother—friend—once again? A now familiar yet terrifyingly unwelcome spasm in his hand told him he was not.  

Hunter emerged from the shadows, stopping before the overhead light could illuminate his face. 

He must have said something, before practically leaping down the Marauder’s ramp as Omega catapulted herself forward again. Crosshair’s eyes softened as he watched his stoic, touch-averse brother cradle the girl in his arms, his eyes closed, his hands shifting over her back as though he would never let her go. 

Could he blame him?

But the atmosphere shifted abruptly as Hunter pulled back, his warm smile and affectionate gaze at Omega turning into a wide-eyed, disbelieving gape as he lifted his eyes toward the freighter behind her. There was no way he could see him through the tint of the cockpit, but his other senses were more than adequate at that distance. Hunter had finally realized that Omega had not escaped alone.

Crosshair felt panic wash over him. His gaze shifted to the pilot’s controls. It would be so easy to take the wheel and disappear, leave them all behind once again. Omega was safe. That was all that mattered, right? He could ditch the ship and find work on some backwater planet, do his best to keep off the Empire’s radar.

Batcher slowly shook herself and stood up from where she had been napping the last few hours, her eyes never leaving his. His lips tightened into a thin line as they stared each other down.  

He finally let out a disgruntled sigh, shaking his head and crouching down until he could rest his hand on the curve of her head. 

“I know, I know.”

She growled a little and then licked his hand, pointedly ignoring the scowl he gave in return. 

“I’m done running. Promise.” 

He achingly stood back to his full height and turned toward the back of the ship. He could almost feel Hunter’s shocked gaze still on him. Whatever message Omega had sent them, they clearly hadn’t been expecting him to walk down that ramp after her. After all the wrong choices—how could this one possibly go any better?

The tremor took over his hand again. But he suddenly, faintly, felt the pressure of a familiar, slender hand on his shoulder. And another, firmer grip cradling his trembling fingers, easing the shattered nerves. A pulse he thought he would never hear again thrummed next to his own for the briefest of seconds. 

He had nothing left to lose. 

It was time to try living again. 

Divider by the lovely @dystopicjumpsuit ✨

[moodymisty]

Hi ! I hope you're having a great day/night and I was wondering if I could place a request of maybe Crosshair wanting to have kids with reader (female reader if possible)/having a slight baby fever after seeing her interact with Omega a lot ? Have a good day/night ! ❤️

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 2

Author's Note: This took a bit of finagling to try and get a scenario that would work timeline wise, I will admit. But then I just said 'fuck it' AU time. So 'Crosshair doesn't leave the batch' AU it is. l I kept this one SFW just cause that's how I read the request, but if you want the spice, you're always welcome to throw in another request sometime ;3

This one got a little fru fruy and poetic, so if you just want the sauce, I can cook some up

Summary: Crosshair sees how good you are with Omega, and thinks of a future that's rare, but not impossible.

Relationships: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Warnings: SFW, Mentions of having kids, tokophobia warning (trying take sure this gets hit by peoples blacklist if they don't like this sort of thing I know it's not everyone's cup of tea), Crosshair longing and thinking of his future with you, Treating Omega as a like pseudo-adopted kid give this kid parental figures lol

Hyperspace might be the perfect time to get things done- but to Crosshair, it's dreadfully boring.

The ship sails through the stars with a monotonous hum, putting anyone of a less overactive mind to sleep a long time ago. Wrecker is snoring away, a forearm over his eyes. Hunter isn't asleep, but he's relaxing, as is Tech. Which means more so that he's tinkering on a personal project, instead of needed repairs. Echo is resting his eyes- Crosshair can tell by the rhythm of his chest he isn't asleep.

You're nowhere to be seen however, though it's obvious where you are, as he looks to his right towards the cockpit.

He can see the top of your head in the co-pilot's seat, as your head is clearly leaned onto your left shoulder. You must've fallen asleep, as you don't move at all in the few seconds he looks. Getting up off the storage crate he was relaxing on, crosshair makes his way closer until he steps between the seats, and looks down on you.

And Omega, as he quickly notices.

She's sitting sideways in your lap, and you have her loosely supported with one arm over her knees and the other behind her back. Her cheek is smushed against your arm, and the both of you are completely asleep.

It's... Endearing. Crosshair hasn't really seen you this relaxed in, well, he can't exactly remember. Life hasn't been easy, since everything. The two of you have seemed to go with the flow perfectly so far, even after everything that's been thrown at everyone so far. Especially you; As while they were all used to the chaos, you weren't.

He slowly lowers himself into the pilot's seat, trying not to make a sound. But just as he finally settles, he notices your head shift. Not long after, you open your eyes. They almost instantly settle on him, looking over his body as he sits ankle over thigh in the seat. You swallow your mouth dry, blurry sight focusing.

"How long was I asleep?" He glances to you out of the corner of his eyes.

"Don't worry about it." He hears you softly exhale. "I wasn't asking because I wanted to get up."

Omega remains asleep even through your quiet talking, establishing that she's clearly a heavier sleeper than you. But even if Crosshair still doesn't speak up again for awhile, watching the stars streak by the viewport. When he glances back over to the two of you, he notices the way you're brushing a piece of Omega's hair out of her face.

The two of you have been stuck like glue since first meeting, and even someone far denser than Crosshair wouldn't have much trouble seeing it. He can't really put a word to how the sight makes him feel. It's not bad, not in the slightest. It makes his chest hurt in a similar way it did when he would watch the cities bustle with life while they were locked away for later use in clone bases.

Longing?

"You're good with her." He mumbles, jerking his head your way. You shrug your shoulders.

"Hard not to be. She's a good kid."

He doesn't exactly have much of a gauge of what makes a 'good kid'. All he's even spoken to was clone cadets, neck deep in training.

But you look so, natural with her. Omega seems to be so comfortable with you, and maybe in a way, she sees you as a parent. She seems to think that way about Hunter, Echo too; He kind of wonders how she views him.

She almost always views the two of you as a unit, as even in a small ship you and Crosshair are rarely apart. Does she view him the same as you?

He never even thought he'd get the chance to even think about those sorts of things, until he met you. But even then, he never wanted them. Kriff, if it hadn't messed with the early clone tests brains so much, the Kaminoans would've made sure they'd never have the chance. But would he even be able? He went from test tube to battlefield, how can that raise a kid?

But for all of his rough and gruff, he wouldn't mind giving it a shot with you. You'd help him in the spots that need work. He'd help with yours, even if he doesn't think there is any. If Omega is any indicator, you'd be the perfect parent.

How'd he get so stupidly lucky? This all feels like a dream sometimes. He feels like having a child with you would be like rolling the dice yet again and risking losing every good thing he's manage to win. But gods, does he want it.

"Crosshair?" He looks up, and sees you staring at him. Your eyebrows are raised, almost suspicious.

"You good? You look lost." He doesn't respond, instead looking away from a moment. He's trying to think of a way to word his thoughts, but Omega stirs before he has the chance. He probably wouldn't be able to word them in any way that made sense, anyhow.

"Hmm?" She rubs her one eye, looking up at you before turning awkwardly to see Crosshair. He wasn't there when she'd fallen asleep.

"How long was I asleep?" You respond as Crosshair moves to stand. "Not that long. I just woke up too."

Standing right beside your seat he lays an arm on the headrest, leaning downward. He can see all the little imperfections on your face, as you look at up at him and habitually smile. He'll never get over how it seems like the sight of him makes you happier. He feels the same, even if he doesn't show it in the same way.

"Should get out of that seat before you ruin your back." It's true; The way you've been tucked in is horribly uncomfortable, but you aren't going to abandon it right at this moment.

After talking Crosshair leans down just a bit farther, enough to steal a kiss. His lips are nice and warm against yours; Soft, gentle pressure as his nose brushes against your cheek. Afterwards he plops a hand on Omega's head, ruffling her hair before running it down her face and squishing it as she lets out an irritated noise, slapping it away.

He hears the two of you quietly snicker as he walks out of the cockpit, moving to sit on his bunk and take off his boots. The two of you are mumbling about something, and he hears his name mentioned once or twice. He can't help but take another glance and see what the two of you are up to, and while he won't join, he'll enjoy the sound.

Maybe once this is all over, Crosshair can finally enjoy the pitter patter of small feet he always heard the holo-dramas talk about himself.

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[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡His Addiction｡⋆.

Kylo Ren x plus size reader

His Choice Masterlist

The crash was destined to come but it shouldn't have been this bad

Chapter Warnings: dubcon turned slight noncon, smut, size kink, d/s dynamics, blood, rough sex, getting hurt during sex, anger, angst, fear, no safewords, this is a really intense chapter so please heed the warnings, no foreplay or preparation, needles, kidnapping

WC: 1.3k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was lonely in those chambers she was confined to. The black and deep red decorations made her feel out of place dressed in a sheer white nighty, a silver collar hanging from her neck, reflecting the dim light of the stars they passed. The bedroom she was trapped in always seemed cold, especially with the thick metal chain keeping her tied to the bed, constantly touching the naked skin of her back and arms.

She had no doubt it was one of the more beautiful places on the ship but she still detested being alone here. It was always far too quiet and against her better judgement, she was craving her master’s presence. In her mind, he was so large that he took up most of the space, drowning out the darkness of isolation with the light of his haunting yellow eyes.

Sighing, she lay back against the bed and fished the holopad he had given her out from under her pillow. It was highly censored and monitored but she could read and watch small nature documentaries, so she didn’t complain. It had been days since she had last seen the sith, according to the stormtrooper who brought her meals every third day, something big was brewing. There were rumours that a Jedi had been captured by the First Order.

If that was true, then Kylo would be away for a lot longer than just a couple days and she would have to get used to being alone. 

Just as she settled into yet another documentary about Hoth, the lights in the room went red as a siren blared. The ground rumbled beneath her and the stars shifted. Y/N grabbed at her chain and braced herself as the gravity around her shifted and she was thrown back against the headboard. 

She winced as the cold chain pushed into her spine. It was a few seconds before her body adjusted and she was able to sit up properly again. It wasn’t right, this Star Destroyer shouldn’t be in hyperspace unless an attack had occurred. 

Y/N slipped from the bed, getting a better angle on the window. The chain pulled tight as she stretched, waiting for the ship to stop. Soon enough, they did stop and dread filled her veins.

Debris floated past the window, huge chunks of it. Whatever had been destroyed had been much larger than any Star Destroyer she had ever seen and may well have been larger than the Death Star if the stories she had been told in her youth were true. There were bodies as well, stormtroopers and admirals alike, all being given to the vast expanse of space.

Her eyes squeezed shut and she turned away, unwilling to look at the carnage anymore. Alarms still blared overhead, signalling that they were still at battle stations, TIE fighters and Star Cruisers streak by but then suddenly, everything stops.

The alarms shut off but the lights remain a terrifying red. Y/N’s breathing began to pick up, something was wrong. Fear settled into her bones, causing her skin to erupt with goosebumps. Thundering footsteps came from just outside the door. She snapped her head forward, curling her body into itself, shrinking down into the sheets as if it would provide ample protection.

The doors slammed open, revealing Kylo. He had no mask on, his clothes were damp and most shockingly, a scar. It ran from the side of his neck all the way across his face, ending just beneath his eye. It was huge and red with infection, just barely being held together by a mesh-like bandage beneath his pale skin.

“On your hands and knees.” He barked but she didn’t move, still too shaken to comprehend what was happening. “Now!” She yelped as the room exploded with power and turned over onto her front. Her arms shook as she braced herself against the silk sheets.

There was no preparation, no warning, only the lifting her dress over her back and his gloved hands clamping down on her hips and then he was inside of her. Pain radiated through her body. He felt far too big like this, like his cock was ripping her in half. Kylo grunted and began to move. His thrusts quickly became violent, the air around them heating with his rage.

Y/N buried her face in the pillow, muffling her sobs as best she could, even sneaking a hand between her legs to her small bundle of nerves to lessen the blow. Instead she received a growl from the sith as one hand grabbed the back of her neck and pinned her to the bed. “Fucking rebel! Ruined everything!” His hips slammed harshly into her ass. He had no steady rhythm, he was not searching for a release, he was just fucking out his frustration.

“I will find her.” He snarled and for some reason, the thought that he was using her as a punching bag in place of another woman, that caused Y/N to snap.

“Stop!” She cried, thrashing as hard as she could below him but it did nothing more than make him even angrier. 

“Stop disobeying me!” There was a whoosh of air and then all she could feel was pain. The scream she let out immediately pulled him from the haze of rage that had settled over his mind. He flinched as he finally saw what he had done.

There was blood everywhere, rolling from several large gashes across her back, staining her untainted skin. He could hear her crying and see where she had ripped the sheets with her fingernails, how bruised he had left her. But most of all, he could feel the betrayal and the sadness rolling off of her in huge waves. He had done this, he had hurt her because he was so blinded by his own failures, he had used the force to hurt her.

Kylo said nothing as he pulled out of her and turned away, unwilling to see the consequences of his actions. Her sobs rang in his ears as he ran.

Y/N lay alone, her tears long-since dried but the pain was still just as raw as it was hours ago. This, this was what she should have expected. Kylo Ren was still just a man, a man who had bought her so she could be his toy. That’s what hurt most, not the slashes across her back but the fact that she had so easily fallen into the delusion that he had actually cared for her.

She felt like a stupid child.

She watched as debris floated by, slowly lessening as the hours wore on. She could not even gather the strength to pull her dress back down over her naked body, nor move from the now rough sheets. She just watched as the universe passed her by.

Darkness was beginning to grow at the edge of her vision when voices floated through the empty halls. She attempted to sit up but her back screamed when she moved even slightly so she just turned her head to watch the doors, half-expecting and half-dreading that it would be her master who opened them.

But instead she was treated with a small group of people, not dressed like anyone in the First Order. “That’s her.” One whispered to another before a shorter one in the group retorted- “We need to move now, before he comes back.”

Her eyes went wide with panic as two of them moved forward towards her. She tried to lift herself from the bed to run but her injuries were too great and she remained paralysed, only able to watch as they came closer. “If you kill me, he’ll hunt you down.” She hissed, desperately trying to believe her own lie.

“That’s what we’re counting on.” One of them spoke and before she could scream, a needle was jammed into her neck and unconsciousness consumed her.

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His Choice

@the-queen-of-sorrows

[totallyunidentified]

Spoilers for Ep 12 ig

I am sorry.

Pretty much the Hunter one but...Omega

tw: Main character death

In the end she knew something like this would happen. Hunter had found her again and he'd gotten her back. They are almost free. Then she sees Hemlock standing at the end of the hangar with a squadron of stormtroopers.There’s no way they are all making it out.

Omega looks at Hunter. Watching his face. It’s unchanging, as always. She can almost see the gears in his head turning. She grabs his hand. His almost engulfing hers. She looks at her brother. 

Her Dad,

She studies his face, almost trying to memorize it. Then she looks at Hemlock who is still monologuing about how incredibly simple the clones are. How they are property. How Omega is property.

 One more glance at Hunter and she sees his face turned towards her. She looks at him and tries to look brave. Like him. 

Her time at Tantiss had been anything but a vacation. Despite everything she had been through, her eyes still held the sparkle that she had had when they first took her into hyperspace all those years ago. This helped him stay calm. 

 Hemlock lifts his hand signaling to the stormtroopers to aim, “Last chance. Give up now or you will all perish.”

Omega squeezes Hunter's hand once before standing tall and looking Hemlock in the eye, “Haven’t you heard? We aren’t big on following orders.”

A shot rings out. Hemlock falls. “Took him long enough” Omega mutters to Hunter. Looking behind her at Crosshair up in the hangar control room.

They turn to the stormtroopers and fight them together. Father and daughter. For the last time.

They both hear a click. The sound of a thermal grenade being primed. He turns to Omega several feet away from him. Both realizing what’s about to happen at the same time. They look at each other. Hunter can see the fear of realization on Omega’s face.Omega can see the horror on his. His heart breaks at the thought of something happening to her. Her heart breaks at the thought of what losing him would do to the Batch. They see the detonator get thrown.

Hunter leaps as the stormtrooper throws the grenade. His body is parallel to the ground. His fingertips just barely touch it as it goes by flying behind him and Omega.

There’s an explosion. Their bodies go flying in different directions.

Hunter is the first to get up. Omega…can’t. 

She sees him stumbling towards her. 

She gets up. Her hand is on her side where the pain is the worst. She limps towards Hunter. 

He reaches her first, wrapping his arms around her. Holding her steady.

“You ok?” He asks her terrified of how she will answer.

“Yeah I-I’m fine.” She answers. Lying.

“We need to get moving,” Hunter says, starting to walk away. 

He turns back when he doesn't hear her footsteps following him.

“Yeah yeah we do, I just…just need to sit down for a second,” Omega says, her legs buckling underneath her.

He catches her trying to figure out what's wrong. 

He lays her down propping her up on some degree and reaches to tuck her hair behind her ear. 

When his hand enters his eyesight. It's glistening with something red. He looks at it. His mind started to race. He screams into his com begging the others to get to them and get to them fast. 

Omega looks up at Hunter, her breath starting to falter. 

She watches as he starts to panic, putting his hands on her wounds trying to stop the bleeding. 

She watches her father, who she knew before he knew her.

She remembers the first time Nala Sei brought the Bad Batch to her special lab. 

She remembers watching them float in their tubes as Nala enhanced them.

She remembers the day that Nala took them to join the other recruits sobbing as she said goodbye.

She remembers asking Nala Sei for an update only to be told it was none of her concern. 

She remembers going years without knowing anything until they showed up one day out of the blue. 

She remembers how it felt the first time they entered hyperspace. 

How Tech would tell her everything she wanted to know about anything.

How Echo helped her train with her bow.

How Wrecker shared Lula with her and how he gave the best hugs.

How Crosshair still helped her escape the first time even though he was adamant he wouldn't. 

How Hunter was steadfast and strong and never gave up. 

How he knelt to her level when they hugged after she and Crosshair escaped. 

She watches him try to stop the bleeding before grabbing his hand. 

“Buir…” Hunter hears her say and his head snaps up to look into her eyes.

“Its ok. You’re gonna be ok.” She says smiling at him. 

Hunter shakes his head trying and failing to say anything. 

He holds her in his arms as she stops shaking. As she touches his cheek with the tattoo. 

As that hand goes limp. 

He puts his forehead to hers, his mind racing. 

All that time. All the hardships. Everything they had been through. Was for nothing. 

[agoldengalaxy]

who’s the winner of the idgaf war?

whatever you were thinking, WRONG. it’s tech

in season 1 episode 3, the ship gets thrown out of hyperspace and when hunter panics, tech just goes “it’s not affecting life support, we’re fine”

[corrieguards]

Cody x reader Summary: Cody's in a sour mood, injured both in pride and flesh. So when a cute medic comes to check up on him, they are faced with one grumpy Cody. Word Count: 1,9k T/W: none, just Cody being a little shit

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3

Today had not been a good day for Cody.

His first misfortune of the day happened when General Kenobi was transferred over to reinforce another battalion, right in the middle of his own raging battle. Not only that but he also took both his medics along with him, leaving Cody as the sole commander of 600 men, some of them seriously injured.

To make matters worse, when he sent a request for backup, the Council replied by dispatching the only other available battalion. And when the gun ships arrived, a relieved Cody rushing to meet them as they landed, who did he see stroll out of them?

Anakin fucking Skywalker. 

Hopes crushed, he reluctantly began to brief the general on the current situation and offer up some of his own opinions on counter attacks only for Anakin to dismiss them. Plans he has spent all kriffing night making replaced with another one of Skywalkers idiotic ideas that was probably going to get them killed.

Then, to add salt to the wound, half way through the battle he got caught in the crossfire of a thermal detonator that some shiny had accidentally thrown too close to him. Not only did he get thrown across the room, but a piece of shrapnel hit him in just the right spot between his armour platings, getting firmly and painfully lodged into his side.

So here he now sat, safely in hyperspace on the way back to the capital. His dignity wounded not only by the fact that Anakins' stupid plan had actually worked, but also because he, Marshal Commander Cody, had got wounded in battle. And not by a clanker or a seppie, no. By a fucking shiny.

All he wanted to do now was take a weeks long nap, but instead he was stuck in the med-bay of the Resolute waiting impatiently for a medic to show up. But apparently even the medics of the 501st were horribly unorganized.

Scowling at the time display on his wrist comm, he scoffed, already itching to get up and leave. Maker, how much longer was this going to take?

He didn’t even need to be here for kriff sake, he was fine. He still had piles of reports to sign off and injured men to check up on. But Rex had made him promise that he would at least let one of his medics take a look at him and Cody was nothing if not a man of his word.

Sensing a movement out the corner of his eye he turned lazily towards the door a bored look on his face.

“Hi, I’m here to be your medic” you smiled as you made your way over to your patient.

“Fucking finally” he muttered under his breath. Your head shot up from your datapad, raising an eyebrow at the trooper in front of you. What was his problem?

Brushing the comment off you plastered on another smile, admittedly less genuine that the first one.

“Ok then, let’s get started shall we?”, you introduced yourself to him, telling him your name and finishing it off by offering him a handshake.

He glanced down at your outstretched hand then back up at you face, eyebrows raising before slowly accepting your offer. His hand engulfed your own as he gave it a small shake, pulling back almost as soon as your hands had touched.

A couple beats of silence passed as you looked at him expectantly. His frown deepened “We gonna get this over with or what?

Your eyes widened, taken aback by his bluntness. Seriously, what was this guy's problem?

“I was waiting for your name...” you said, but this only made him look even more confused.

“Y’know, I tell you my name, you tell me yours…” you explained hesitantly “at least that’s how introductions usually work.”

“I know how they work” he scoffed “I just assumed you already knew who I was. Most people do.”

“Oh. Well I’m kinda new around here. I haven’t even really worked with other battalions outside of the 501st yet”

“Clearly.” he grumbled “The name’s Cody. Marshal Commander Cody.”

Ok so he was definitely wayy to full of himself.

You flashed him an awkward smile “Ok then Cody, how about you lay down for me and we can get started?”

Turning, you started rummaging through ypu med pack when he scoffed, making you look up abruptly only to find him still sitting on the edge of the bed with a bored look on his face.

"How long is this going to take?" he asked harshly.

"Well, that really depends on how bad your injuries are commander, I-"

"Great" he cut you off "then I believe we're finished here” He jumped of the bed, wincing slightly and clutching his side but quickly recovering and playing it off

You caught the movement and opened your mouth, beginning to protest “But commander, you're obviously injured-“

“I’m perfectly fine” he said, pointedly cutting you off yet again “Now if you’d just sign me off I’ll be on my way.”

He held his hand out expectantly, already looking down at his comm as he waited for you to hand him the med report card.

This guy was getting on your last kriffing nerve.

When you didn’t react he slowly looked up at your face “I said-“

“I know what you said” this time you cut him off. He raised an eyebrow at you before straightening up to his whole height and taking a step closer to you.

“Good, then how about you follow orders and hand me that report card, medic”

Oh so this is how this was gonna go. Ok then, two can play that game Cody.

Matching him you took a step closer, now almost chest to chest “I don’t care if you’re Marshal Commander or the fucking Chancellor, when it comes to medical care I outrank you”

He looked taken aback by your outburst but maintained his firm gaze nonetheless. Refusing to back down you glared straight back up at him. Eventually he scoffed “Fine, but make it quick.”

“It will take as long as it needs to take Commander," you replied snarkily “Now please if you would be so kind as to lay down.”

He let out a small huff of disbelief, but settled back down onto the bed anyway. You had balls he’d give you that.

“Not many people talk to me like that y’know” he said as he watched you set up your supplies.

“Yeah? Well maybe they should” you scoffed, making him narrow his eyes at you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You seem like you could be taken down a couple notches is all." You shrugged, gentle hand begining to detach the armour plating covering his chest and stomach. Then as an after thought you added “No offense.”

“How the hell is that not offensive?”

You smirked, an odd satisfaction at getting under his skin.

He sucked in a sharp breath as you carefully peeled up his blacks, your own breath hitching as it revealed the wound hidden underneath.

“And you said you were fine?”

“I am fine” he replied through his teeth. “Minor wounds are an occupational hazard. I’ll live.”

“Cody. This isn’t a ‘minor injury’. This is an open wound that, if not treated correctly will get worse”

“S’nothing I haven’t dealt with before”

“I don’t care if you’ve dealt with it before, right now it’s my job to take care of you and you’ve got to let me do it”

He shot you an annoyed look but settled down nonetheless “Fine”

You nodded satisfied and walked over to the sink, Cody’s eyes following your every move as you picked up a cloth, letting it soak completly under the tap before carefully wringing it out.

Turning around, you jumped slightly upon seeing the commanders gaze watching you intently. You cleared your throat, walking back over to him and taking a seat on the stool next to the bed. Gently, you pressed the cloth to his skin but quickly pulled it back when he hissed. 

“Sorry” you mumbled “Is it too hot? Too cold?”

“No, no it’s fine, just stings a little”

Nodding you carried on rubbing of the dried blood and dirt spread around his wound, making a conscious effort to be as soft as you could. Once you were satisfied you lent in, taking a closer look at the now clean wound. You hummed and began rummaging in your med pack as he watched you closely.

“What? What is it?” he asked almost as if he was... nervous? No, it couldn’t be.

“It’s just gonna need a couple stitches that’s all, nothing to worry about”

He swallowed as you carefully threaded your needle and lined it up near the start of his cut. Taking one last glance up at him to make sure he was ok you found him clenching his fists tightly by his side, eyes firmly shut and chest rising and falling quickly. 

Who knew he would be so nervous about a tiny needle. You shook your head smiling softly at his nervousness before slowly pushing the needle in. Immediately he flinched, sucking in a breath and clenching his jaw. 

You stilled, glancing up at him again “Hold still for me please.”

“I’m trying” he muttered angrily, “but you’re fucking stabbing me”

You chuckled, focusing back on your work “On come on now, I thought you were ‘big tough Marshal Commander Cody’. People won’t find you nearly as intimidating when they find out you can’t handle a little needle and threat”

“I can handle it.” he growled. 

“Sure doesn’t seem like it” you smirked finishing up the last stitch and tying a careful knot. “But no need to worry Cody, I wouldn’t dare tarnish your reputation like that”.

Taking out a bacta patch you ripped the wrapping off.

“It can be our little secret” you teased, sending him a wink. He rolled his eyes at you, only making you smirk wider when you saw him trying to hide a smile. Huh, maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

You lined the bacta patch up, before giving him a warning “This is gonna sting a little”

He grunted, squeezing his eyes shut as you pushed it down, looking up at him apologetically and muttering a quiet “Sorry”

Finally you straightened up, dusting off your hands “Okay the Cody, you’re as good as new” 

He groaned as he sat up, watching you fill out the report card before finally signing it off and handing it to him. He took it from you muttering out a quiet “Thanks”

Smirking, you put a hand behind your ear teasingly  “Sorry? I didn’t quite catch that”

He rolled his eyes at you, ghost of a smile gracing his lips “I said” he enunciated each word carefully “Thank you”

“My pleasure Marshal Commander” you grinned, giving him an exaggerated bow. He let out a small huff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh before re-attaching his armour and heading towards the exit.

“Oh and Commander” you shouted when he was half way out the door. He hummed, turning to look at you.

“I’ll see you around Cody” you winked playfully. He shook his head, rolling his eyes but not trying to hide the smile rising on his face.

“Sure, I'll see you around” he replied, winking back before slipping out the door.

You stood, staring dumbly at the empty space where he’d just been standing, feeling a blush slowly creep up to your cheeks.

Did- did he just wink at you?

---

Pt.2 here

A/N: I can't shake the feeling that I didn't get Cody quite right in this? Idk something just feels off. So please feel free to send me some constructive criticism. Key word being constructive. I will most definitely cry if you are mean to me lmao

Anywho, hope y'all enjoyed it anyways ❤️ :D

my masterlist

[sergeantgoggles]

Hello! For the kiss prompts, can I ask for Howzer/Rex with 💖?

This definitely grew legs, but I felt it was important to really set up the scene for the emotions.

Enjoy, friend!

.

Several emotions and thoughts circled through Howzer’s mind as he and several other clone prisoners were bound and escorted onto a transport ship, destination unknown. The name “Tantiss” had been thrown around, but it wasn’t a planet he’d ever heard of. He thought about his men, how so many of them had died at the hands of the Empire defending what they believed in, and he thought about his time on Ryloth, about Cham and Eleni, and of Hera.

He thought about Crosshair, oddly enough, and hoped that one day he would wake up and realize that the Empire wasn’t what he thought it was. They didn’t care about clones, and they were going to discard him the way the rest of them had been. Howzer hoped that he was able to find his way back to his squad.

As the door to the transport closed and his fate seemed sealed, he took solace in knowing that someone would be waiting for him, so they could march on together.

Howzer let himself stare at seemingly nothing, but behind his eyes were images of Rex, his contagious smile, his warm eyes. If he closed his eyes and blocked out the noise around him, he could feel Rex’s lips, hear his laughter, his voice in his ear making promises after the war. Dangerous thing, those promises, and a shame that he never got to keep them, because he would have. Rex had always been a man of his word.

At least, Howzer figured, Rex would be there on the other side, and he wouldn’t have to wonder anymore how he was supposed to keep fighting when the one he was fighting for had gone on ahead.

Commotion outside the door drew him from his thoughts, and he readied himself to fight. He owed it to Rex to at least try to live on, even if his situation looked more dire with each passing day. When the door hissed open, his eyes widened, and his veins were filled with something he dare didn’t call hope.

“Fireball?”

“Good to see you, Sir,” the trooper greeted and motioned for them, Howzer and the other clones with him, to follow.

Once they were to safety, Howzer confronted the other clone he’d recognized, the one from Crosshair’s old squad. “Quite the operation you’ve got going on here.”

The trooper, no, this one was an ARC, if the tan kama were any indication. He gave Howzer a charming smile and put a hand on his hip. “We’ve been at this for a little while, but once we saw your name on the manifest, your rescue became our top priority.”

Howzer blinked in surprise. “We’ve met, but I doubt I left that kind of impression on you…”

“Echo,” the ARC supplied, “and it wasn’t my decision, but I’ll always fight to save a brother who stood up for what was right.”

“Then whose decision was it?” Howzer questioned, brow raised, and arms crossed.

Echo laughed a little and turned back to the console to look out over the stars as they flew through hyperspace. “You’ll see soon enough. Once we’re back on Coruscant it’ll all be explained.”

Howzer wasn’t happy with that answer, but it was clear that was the only one that he was going to get for now. He sighed and took a seat. Might as well wait. At least he was with brothers and not in the hands of the Empire.

Upon landing on Coruscant, he was greeted by several other troopers that had taken refuge there, along with the Senator from Pantora, who he’d heard was taking a stand for clone rights. They chatted for a little while, and Howzer offered her any information that he could. Anything to help the cause.

He’d caught Echo as he was about to leave, off to find someone to hack into the data he’d managed to extract from the ship before they had to leave. “Say, Echo, you were in Crosshair’s squad, right? Did he…ever make it back to you?”

Echo paused, then shook his head. “It’s complicated, but no, he didn’t.”

“I see,” Howzer frowned, “but, where are the rest of them? Why are you here without them?”

“I…chose a different path,” Echo answered vaguely. “Clone Force 99 took me in after I was rescued from Skako Minor, but they want to keep a low profile. When I heard my former Captain was organizing a rebellion, well, I couldn’t just sit back and let him have all the fun, right?”

They shared a laugh, then Howzer asked, “Who was your old Captain? Anyone I know?”

A mischievous glint glittered in Echo’s eyes then, but before he could answer, another voice joined the conversation. “You might know him.”

Howzer froze. He knew that voice better than he knew his own, and Echo’s knowing smirk told him that if he turned around, his suspicions would be right, but he didn’t dare move.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Echo dismissed himself and boarded his ship, leaving him alone with the ghost approaching his back.

“Howzer—"

“You’re dead,” Howzer whispered. “It was all over the comm channels. Your name was among the ones that perished with the 332nd when they crashed into that moon.”

He could feel breath on the back of his neck, hands timidly settling at his hips, could smell the same aftershave that Rex insisted on using because the GAR issued one didn’t smell right. Howzer gasped as lips brushed his ear, and he slammed his eyes shut to will the hot sting of tears away.

“Howzer, look at me.”

Slowly, Howzer turned, eyes downcast, terrified that he would see someone else. Strong fingers cupped his chin and drew his gaze up, and Howzer felt the air leave his lungs.

“Rex—”

“I saw your name on that manifest, and you became my top priority,” Rex explained softly, “I told you if you ever needed me that I would come for you, Howzer. I’m…sorry that it took so—”

Howzer surged forward, slotting their lips together and wrapping his arms around Rex’s neck. Rex was alive, he was here, flesh and bone and breathing, and his lips still tasted sweet like a fine wine. Once Rex’s brain caught up, his arms moved around Howzer, pulling him impossibly close, hands roaming his sides, then into his hair, deepening the kiss. Before Howzer knew it they were moving, Rex guiding him backwards on the platform until his back hit the wall. The soft groan that rolled from his tongue gave Rex the opportunity to to enter, licking the inside of his mouth, reminding Howzer of that equisite taste that he could never get enough of during the war.

“I’m sorry,” Rex murmured hotly between increasingly feverish kisses, “I should have found you sooner.”

“Don’t,” Howzer gasped, giving in to Rex trailing hot, open mouth kisses across his cheek then down along his jaw, then his neck. Everything was too hot, too much. Rex was alive and kissing him breathless and Howzer had half a mind to question if he had died on that transport because this was too perfect to be real. “Rex…”

“I missed you,” Rex breathed, coming up for air for only a moment before diving in to kiss his lips again. “I missed you so much.”

Howzer moaned, even as his emotions overwhelmed him and tears tracked down his cheeks. He needed more, needed Rex to make him believe this was real.

“I need to feel you, Rex,” he exhaled, “Please—”

“I have all night,” Rex replied with a promise and another searing kiss. “I’m not going anywhere, not without you, not anymore.”

Howzer’s hands slid into short blonde hair as their foreheads came to rest against the other’s, and Rex’s thumbs wiped away the tears that were staining Howzer’s cheeks. From batchmates to lovers, Howzer had never expected that even when the galaxy was against them that Rex would still be right here, holding him up and pushing him to be the best he could be.

“Rex?”

“Yeah?”

Howzer smiled, really smiled for the first time in what felt like centuries. He found Rex’s hands, still on his hips, and laced their fingers together. “I missed you, too.”

[x-0ophelia0-x]

two separated souls, reunited.

Pairings: Ezra Bridger x F!Reader Warnings: Ahsoka S1 Spoiler!, it’s my first fic too, please have mercy, it’s also not proof read, supposed to wake up for school in 4h :D

word count: 1,4k

summary: you and Ezra were in a relationship. After his disappearance back in Lothals big fight, you promise to yourself to find him, no matter the cost.

authors note: as I mentioned before this is my first story, well in english at least. I’ll correct the mistakes tomorrow, just wanted to post this already due of the lack of Ezra content here :´D

I hope you like it! <3

„I couldn’t have wished for a better family…can’t wait to come home“

Those lines were stuck in her head.

10 years had already passed since that eventful day. 

10 long years of not knowing what to do.

Her nightmares where plagued by her memories.

The horrific sight of Thrawns flagship being held by purrgils, ready to jump into hyperspace. Knowing that he was still in there. 

Not being able to see him one last time before their ways parted for who knows how long. 

Only hearing his voice through her comm link.

And just like that he was gone. 

Gone somewhere far away from them.

y/n didn’t want to give up.

Ezra meant the world to her and that day just broke her. 

And as the years passed by she started to lose hope.

What if he didn’t survive the hyperjump? What if he lost his memories?

What if-

What if he died?

She didn’t want to think about that, she’d feel it if something would’ve happened to him, right? Their bond was strong, there’d be some sign trough the force if he really was dead. 

But just as she started to accept the fact that finding him would be impossible, Ahsoka had found a map that may have Ezra’s location on it. And with Ezra’s of corse Thrawn‘s too. Her discovery didn’t go unnoticed though. 

Morgan Elsbeth who was currently working on to get Thrawn back found out about Ahsoka finding the map, sending the ex Jedi Baylan Skoll and his apprentice Shin Hati after her.

That was kind of the start of how everything started to go downhill after that. 

Sabine managed to unlock the map but the joy didn’t last long. 

Droids attacked her, followed by Shin. They managed to steal the map, leaving Sabine wounded. 

Those days where filled with quite the action, leading them to this point. 

Ahsoka, Sabine and y/n tracked the hyperspace ring.

They then hid themselves somewhere on that planet.

Shin and the Inquisitor Marrok found them, attacking them to eliminate the threads to Thrawns return. 

A lot happened, leading to the situation of Ahsoka being thrown off a cliff, Sabine lying knocked out on the cold unforgiving ground and y/n having to make an decision. 

Whether to give them the map and follow them as their prisoner, having the chance to finally find Ezra. Or destroy the map and with that the last chance to find her lover.

It was a tough decision but deep down she knew what she had to do.

If there was a chance that Ezra was still alive, she’d have to try her best to find him, to bring him home.

And just like that she handed the map over to Baylan. 

And her journey began. 

-

She was now riding on a howler, recalling everything that had happened. 

Thrawn was alive. And he had an army. 

There were more Nightsisters, helping Thrawn.

But the strangest thing?

They just let her go, even gave her some Proviant and a Howler.

y/n already got attacked by some smugglers or hunters… 

honestly, whatever they where, they wouldn’t stop her from finding him.

Not when she was so close. 

The attack destroyed some kind of device though, showing her Ezra’s last known location. y/n Just hoped to find him by some miracle. 

At some point the howler seemed to have found something. 

It went to a dried out river she assumed, sniffling on some rocks. 

„damn.. I think you’ve lost it.. those are just rocks“

She chuckled, stroking the howlers back.

But it didn’t stop and just when it’s sniffling intensified, the rock moved.

„karabast..“

She whispered.

That rock just moved. 

The howler ran closer to that.. thing?

„Hey.. we’re not going to harm you.. and you don’t have to hide anymore

since we kind of already know about your camouflage“

It took some seconds but the creature in front of them revealed itself. 

It was some kind of an walking crab thing, looking innocent. 

„There you go.. so…“

y/n was at a loss of words. She didn’t even knew if that creature understood her, well most likely not considering that she was from another Galaxy. 

But then something caught her attention. 

That crab creature wore some kind of necklace, with a sign on it. 

It was Sabines firebird. 

Her eyes widened at the realization. 

„E-Ezra Bridger..“

She looked deep into it’s eyes, hoping that it’d understand her.

„Do you know Ezra Bridger?“

It seemed to be confused at first, but it also seemed to recognize the name.

„Ezra Bridger?“

It asked with a high voice. 

y/n nodded.

„Yes.. I’m his friend! Do you know where he is now?“

The creature seemed to think about something, it then called

for his friends, leading to some ‚rocks’ start to move and reveal themselves as crab creatures. 

They then gestured her to follow them, leading her to a small village. 

Their houses were small, looking like they would only be temporary there. 

Crab people where walking around, doing their daily chores or just relax, sitting, sleeping or playing while the others looked at their new guest. 

They then stopped, leaving her alone.

She looked around, capturing the sight in front of her. 

Never in her life would’ve she expected herself to be standing in the middle of a village, somewhere in another Galaxy on a planet called Perridea. 

Just as she was looking at some things of the village, she heard a voice.

„I knew I could count on you… y/n“

She felt like as if her heart skipped a beat. 

She’d recognize his voice everywhere.

The voice of the one person whose made the ultimate sacrifice to keep his new family, his planet and his Galaxy safe from Thrawns games.

Ezras voice

She slowly turned around, her eyes fixating on the man in front of her. 

He was leaning against the wall of one of those houses, his arms crossed. A smile, so warm, kind and loving placed on his face.

He had grown, which was to be expected after 10 years of corse.

His hair had grown longer, his curly waves being a stark contrast to the buzz cut he had when she last saw him. 

He even had a beard now.

Her eyes then shifted to his, locking gazes with him. 

They were still the same vibrant blue as the day she lost him. 

Still so beautiful that she got lost in them for some seconds.

„Ezra..?“

She then asked, giving her everything to hold back tears.

„It sure took you long enough to find me..“

He chuckled, but his voice gave away that he also was holding his tears back.

Her legs then started to move on their own, running to him, not wanting to waste any more second. 

Ezra still stood there, opening his arms to catch her, to pull her into a tight embrace. And so he did. 

She clung to him as if he was her lifeline, not daring to let go, scared that he’d disappear again if she’d loosened her grip on him.

„I missed you.. so much..!“

She couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. 

They now streamed freely down her face.

„I missed you too..“

He said, holding her as close as he could.

Both of them had so many questions that didn’t seem to matter right now.

Everything they needed was this one embrace, ensuring them that they found each other again. 

When they pulled apart, they were again looking into each others eyes.

Ezra then wiped away y/s‘s tears, placing his hand on her left cheek while trying to find the right words.

„Thank you… thank you for finding me“

She then placed her hand over his hand, holding it gently.

„Don’t thank me for that… I love you, I’d do anything for you, even if it means to fly into another Galaxy to find you“

She said, laughing at the last part. And he too chuckled while hearing it.

„I love you too.. and I can’t wait to come home“