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vodika-vibes · 3 months

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Hello Vod'ika, congrats for your followers!!

If possible (in advance sorry for my English) I wanted to ask you a Crosshair x Jedi!Reader (angst with happy ending from Cross view?) in a soulmate au (you can't hurt your soulmate kind of au) where chipped!Crosshair supposelly killed reader (then much much later he founds her again, maybe fallen-scarred or something but not heartshoted dead) (they where crushing each other but tightliped/proud/nothing officially stated)

Noble Maiden Fair

Summary: She was his. And He was hers. They were both just too proud to admit it, even to each other. When the order came out, Crosshair shot her. A blaster blot between her eyes. She fell. She died. Crosshair handled the guilt by staying on the move, by not thinking about it, about her. And then he murders an Imperial Officer and his only option is to run, not to his brothers, who abandoned him, but somewhere else.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x Reader

Word Count: 1849

Prompt: Soulmate AU - Soulmates can't hurt each other

Warnings: Some angst

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Thanks! And thank you for your request! I've been bouncing between ideas on this one, and I finally had one that I liked, so I hope you like it too!

“Welcome!” Crosshair frowns at the large Trandoshan man standing just off the landing bay, “It’s been quite some time since we’ve gotten a visitor! Are you the person bringing the seed delivery?”

“Aa, that’s me,” Crosshair replies as he straightens from where he’s checking that his cargo is still in one piece. Honestly, the demotion from soldier to delivery boy annoys him to no end, but it’s better than the alternative. “You’d be the mayor then?”

“Oh, no. Not me.” The Trandoshan says with a laugh, “We’re a bit too small of a community for someone like that. I’m Grrog.”

“I…see.” He doesn’t, not really. But NatBorns have always been weird, “Anyway, where do you want the stuff?”

Grrog gestures to a flat cart near the door, “We’re going to have to make a couple of trips! I hope you’re not on a time crunch.”

Crosshair sighs, “You don’t have any droids?”

“Oh no! Awful things, droids.”

“Of course.” He rips off his work gloves and throws them inside the ship, “I guess we’d better get to work then.”

The Trandoshan looks thrilled and almost bounces over one of the massive pallets of seeds. “Look at it all! Ooh, the farmers will be thrilled!”

“I don’t just have crop seeds. There are also some seedlings for fruit trees. They’re still inside since they’re a bit more delicate.” Crosshair replies as he walks over to the cart and moves it closer to the pallet.

“Perfect! There’s always room for more seedlings!”

“You really are all about this life, aren’t you?” He asks.

“Oh, yeah. Most of my people are hunters, but, well,” Grrog gestures to himself, and his wide girth, “I’m not made for hunting.” He jokes, “Fruits and Veggies don’t run away at least.”

“Well, there is that.”

“We have a population of a couple hundred people, from all walks of life. We don’t get many new people, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. People don’t want to be farmers, y’know.” Grrog hoists a couple of bags over to the cart, and then straightens with a groan, “The AgriCorps used to run everything here, but they were wiped out to the last.”

“That right?”

“They were Jedi, you know.” He shakes his head, “Could work miracles with dying planets. Such a shame.”

Crosshair doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing to say.

But, for half a second, he sees her. He sees her smile and the way her eyes crinkle when she’s happy. He hears her laugh; loud and bright and unashamed.

His jaw clenches, and he roughly shoves the memory of her away. He doesn’t want to remember her…or the look of confused disbelief when he shot her. Or the way his name fell from her lips as she fell into the ravine.

Still, even though he doesn’t want to remember, it doesn’t make the ache in his chest go away. Or the guilt that threatens to strangle him.

“You alright?”

Crosshair is ripped from his guilt at the concern in Grrog’s voice, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He nods, “Sometimes when I think about the Jedi, the grief threatens to overwhelm me too.” He confides, “You’re not alone there, friend.”

“I’m fine.” Crosshair repeats, “Where am I taking this cart?”

Grrog gazes at him thoughtfully, “It took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that it’s okay to not be okay, friend.”

Crosshair sighs, “You are incredibly nosy.”

“My wife says that it’s my best feature.”

“I don’t like talking about it. Where am I bringing the cart?” Crosshair bites out.

“Alright, alright. There’s a general store. It’s called General Store.” Grrog says, “The employees there know what to do when you deliver it.”

Crosshair stares at him blankly.

“Ah, right! You’ll go through the spaceport, follow the road until you reach the fountain, and then turn left. The General Store is the first shop on the right. If you see the greenhouses, you’ve gone too far.”

“Alright.” Crosshair pushes the cart through the spaceport, easily side-stepping people. Not that there are many people for him to side-step. Honestly, he’s surprised that this place is big enough to have a spaceport.

But, then again, they probably sell the excess fruit and vegetables to other planets.

He pushes the carts through the open doors and stops.

The planet is very green. He should have expected it, it is a farming planet after all. But, for some reason, he wasn’t expecting it to be this green.

For a moment, time slips, and he can hear his kitten’s voice.

“I think, after the war, I’d like to retire.” His kitten says as she absently braids a strand of her hair, her voice soft and thoughtful, little more than a murmur to not wake his brothers.

“Retire?” Crosshair asks, his voice just as quiet, “And what does a Jedi do when they retire?”

She laughs, dropping her braid and resting her chin on the palm of her hand, her eyes glitter with an emotion that Crosshair doesn’t dare name, because naming it would mean that he has to acknowledge it.

“Maybe I’ll become a farmer, move someplace green and alive.”

“You’ll be bored in a week.”

“I think we deserve a little boredom, don’t you?” Her smile is warm and soft, and Crosshair thinks, for a moment, that he would burn the galaxy if it meant that she’d never stop looking at him like that.

With great difficulty, he pushes the memory away.

As much as he’d give anything to go back to that night, with her smiling at him like he hung the stars in the sky for her and her alone. He can’t.

His kitten is dead.

He killed her.

And the Galaxy is a much darker, and lonelier, place for her absence.

Crosshair heaves out a sigh and grabs the cart again. He’s not going to stay here. He can’t stay here. All he has to do is deliver the seeds and seedlings, and then he can go somewhere else.

Maybe he’ll move to a desert planet. No green at all.

Not that it’ll help. After all, it won’t change anything.

He still killed his soulmate.

There’s no coming back from that.

Several hours later, all of the seeds and seedlings are off of his ship, and Crosshair is filling out the last of the paperwork with Grrog. Not to mention, adding some additional fees since he had to unload the ship on his own.

“You sure you don’t want to stay? This place is a lot more welcoming than the rest of the Galaxy.” Grrog offers with a grin.

“I’m sure.”

“You might like farming.”

“I can just about promise you that I won’t.” Crosshair fills the last bit of information on the datapad and then hands it to Grrog, “This looks right?”

“Hm…yep. All of the information is here.” Grrog replies as he scrolls down the information, “Though some of the counts are off, I think. Let me get a count.”

Crosshair rolls his eyes and leans back in the chair, “As you like.”

There’s the sound of a bell behind him as the door to the General Store opens. Grrog beams at the person who just entered, “There you are! We go the seedling shipment in!”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

A voice, soft and female, and so achingly familiar that Crosshair drops the toothpick he’s about to put in his mouth. His head snaps around and he stares, stunned, at the woman standing in the door.

It’s her.

Her hair is longer, braided over her shoulder, and she’s wearing more casual clothes than he’s ever seen her wearing before.

But it’s still her, his Kitten.

She turns her head slightly and catches sight of him. Her eyes widen, likely just as surprised as he is. Though she doesn’t look afraid, she mostly just looks confused to see him there.

With seeds.

Which, okay, that’s valid.

Grrog vanishes into the back of the shop, and she hesitates, before she turns and walks over to him.

“Crosshair,” Her voice is soft, and her eyes scan his face. “This is new,” Her fingers, still slightly calloused from years of lightsaber use, brush against the scar on his temple.

He stands and he lightly grips her chin to tilt her head back, “I shot you.” He breathes out.

She meets his gaze evenly, “Yes.”

“You don’t even have a scar.”

She hesitates for a moment, “I figured out what our soul bond is.” She finally says.

Crosshair is silent for a moment, “We can’t hurt each other.”

“No, we can’t.”

He releases her chin, “That’s convenient for us, I suppose.”

“I…” She pauses and then reaches up and presses both of her hands against his cheeks, “We didn’t talk about it. About us. And I know it’s because you were ashamed or—”

“Proud. Not ashamed.” Crosshair corrects, “I was too proud to admit what everyone else already knew. Proud and…a little afraid.”

“Why would you be afraid, Cross?”

“Because. You were so good, Kitten.” He brings his hands to cup her face, “You’re so good and I know you deserve better than me. You always have. Someone as good as you are.”

“I don’t think that’s your choice to make.” She says slowly, thoughtfully. “Not when I’ve been choosing you since the first time we met.”

Crosshair sighs, “You should hate me. I tried to kill you.”

“You didn’t, though.”

Slowly he leans in and bumps his forehead against hers. Crosshair can feel her breath against his face, warm and alive in a way that he never thought that he would feel again.

“I’m sorry.” He says, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please—”

“There is nothing to forgive.” Her voice is soft, yet there’s steel underlying her words, “You did nothing wrong. You and your brothers are as much victims of this war as we were.”

“They made us as weapons,” Crosshair says, his voice thick with grief that he’s never had the chance to put into words, “They made us to be weapons against the Jedi.”

“That’s not your fault.” She whispers, “It’s not your fault, and I can’t think of a single Jedi who would blame you for it. Not when they learned the truth.”

Crosshair shudders, and his forehead falls to her shoulder.

Gentle arms slide around him and brush through his hair. “Come home with me, Crosshair.” Her offer is soft and warm and so, very, tempting.

Nothing would make him happier than following her home and making her home. But he can’t put her in danger. He can’t.

“The Empire—”

“—will hunt me whether you’re here or not.” She interrupts, “Don’t leave me again, Crosshair. Please?”

Crosshair melts on the spot, “You don’t play fair, Kitten.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t reply. There’s nothing for him to say. So, instead, he pulls her into a kiss. A kiss that’s been a long time coming. It feels like a missing piece of his soul snaps into place, and his arms slide protectively around her.

He’s never going to let her go again. Ever.

#star wars #tbb #star wars au #vodika-vibes 650 event #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks #soulmate au

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wizardofrozz · 9 months

Text

TBB Hunter x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: Just straight fluff 🥰

A/N: This is my gift for @isaidonyourknees for the Life Day gift exchange hosted by @cloneficgiftexchange 💙

I used the prompt "Midnight snack run" and I hope you enjoy it @isaidonyourknees!! 🤍🩵

The Marauder was quiet...well quiet if you ignored Wrecker’s muffled snoring a few feet away where he was lying face down on the floor. You turned your head, looking over the side of the bunk, smiling to yourself as you watched him before turning your attention to the body crammed into the bunk beside you. Hunter’s mouth was open, much softer snores filling the air, his bandana pulled down over his eyes. You envied the brothers and their ability to sleep just about anywhere, especially on nights like this one where sleep was just out of reach. Forcing your eyes closed, you tried to will yourself to sleep but what felt like only seconds passed before your eyes popped open again.

You glanced at Hunter one last time before blowing out a long sigh. Moving quietly had become second nature around Hunter, especially during the time he managed to fall into a deep sleep. You were silent as you climbed down, Wrecker’s snoring covering up the soft hiss that whistled through your teeth when your feet met frigid durasteel. Your eyes dropped down to the bottom bunk, a small smile lifting the corner of your mouth as you pulled the blanket up over Echo’s shoulders. You knew he hated the cold.

The ship was a mess but you’d spent long enough navigating it that tiptoeing around the items strewn across the floor took no thought. You absently glanced at the bunk again as you grabbed your boots, smiling softly when you noticed Hunter had rolled on his side, curling in on himself. The insoles were stiff from the cold, muffled slightly by the thick socks you grabbed. You double-checked that the small pouch of credits was still in the pocket of your coat before grabbing your gloves and heading for the ramp, glancing into the cockpit.

Faint lights danced across the ceiling and you stifled a giggle when you caught a glimpse of the top of Tech’s head peaking out from the side of the chair. You rolled your eyes, knowing his neck would be sore in the morning but waking him wouldn’t do any good.

The ramp lowering was silent but you held your breath, anxiously watching the siblings you could see. Echo shivered at the rush of cold air but no one made any sudden movements. Snow crunched under your boots as you hurried out of the ship, shutting the ramp as quickly as possible. Once it sealed with a quiet hiss you let out a long breath and huddled down into your coat.

The snow glistened in the moonlight like thousands of little gems scattered across the ground. The rush of cold air wasn’t the only thing making your chest feel tight as you looked out over the pristine white blanket. You almost felt bad disrupting the beauty of it as you slowly started toward the path leading to the small town.

It wasn’t Wrecker’s snoring that woke him; Hunter had learned to ignore his brother over the years. No, it was the absence of one specific sound. It was useless to open his eyes with the bandana covering them so Hunter blindly swiped his hand over the warm bedding. With a soft groan, he pushed the piece of fabric onto his forehead, blinking a few times to clear the fog from his eyes. Hunter couldn’t hear the unique pitter-patter of your heartbeat anywhere on the ship and his brows pulled together.

Silently, Hunter slid off the bunk, searching for the civilian clothing he'd been wearing the day before. Without removing his blacks, he slid the thicker pants and thermal shirt on, unceremoniously shoving his feet into his boots. Hunter fixed his bandana before grabbing the heavy coat you had insisted each of them get and made for the ramp. Silence fell over the ship and Hunter strained to hear Omega’s even breathing; it helped calm his racing heart slightly. Tech’s breathing hitched when the ramp groaned quietly but it quickly evened out again.

Your footprints were the first thing Hunter noticed, and he hopped off the side of the ramp, absently hitting the control panel. He followed the path you had taken only to freeze when he lifted his head. You were a few yards ahead of him, stopped under the bare trees lining the path that led toward the town, your head tilted back admiring the snow-covered branches. A small, admittedly relieved, smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he carefully moved closer.

The crunch of snow under his boots made your heart skip and he stopped, biting back a smile when you spun around, looking ready for a fight; Hunter couldn’t deny that he was proud.

“Hunter! You scared me half to death,” you scolded, resting a hand on your chest. The gentle yet icy breeze blew a few strands of your hand around your face and if you didn’t look ready to throw snow at him, he’d tell you how beautiful you looked.

“Sorry, cyar’ika,” he chuckled, moving closer. “Could say the same about you.” Your expression shifted, a sheepish smile spreading across your face.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you explained, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself. “Thought I’d see about a midnight snack. Care to join me?”

“‘Course,” Hunter replied with a smile and offered his arm. You looped your arm with his, beaming up at him and Hunter leaned over, kissing your temple.

Flurries drifted down from the trees overhead, dotting your hair and cheeks, bringing a smile to your face that nearly stole Hunter's breath. The silence was pleasant and before he knew it, the lights of the small town came into view, dotting the snow with splashes of color.

The single all-night shop was pleasantly warm, making you sigh softly at the sudden temperature change. The young man behind the counter didn’t spare you a glance as you wandered through the store, Hunter on your heels. Your intrigued hum caught his attention and he looked over your shoulder, resting a hand on your side. The prepackaged fruit-filled pastry didn’t look like anything special but apparently, it has caught your attention.

“Tech was telling me about the fruit native to this planet,” you explained, tapping the name before turning your head to look at him. “Do you wanna try one too?”

“I’ll try yours.” You rolled your eyes but there was a hint of a smile on your face. “Better get Wrecker and Omega one too.”

‘Well, of course,” you giggled, kissing his cheek. After another few minutes and a couple of other treats, you led Hunter back into the cold night air, already pulling one of the pastries out of the bag. He took the bag without prompting, watching you hesitantly take a bite of the fluffy dough.

“Good I take it,” he commented when your brows lifted.

“Here try,” you mumbled around a mouthful, holding the treat toward him. Hunter could smell the sweetness already but it was surprisingly subtle. The fruit filling was unusually tart and he hummed, finding that he actually didn’t mind it.

“Not as sweet as I was expecting,” he said once he swallowed. The expression on your face was far too smug and Hunter rolled his eyes, hooking his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. Your laughter was bright and carefree, a rarity for them recently and Hunter cherished it.

“As I was saying earlier, Tech and I were talking about it earlier. Specifically how you’d probably like it, seeing that anything too sweet bothers you.”

“You’re sweet but I keep you around,” Hunter teases, kissing your forehead.

“Smooth, sarge,” you laughed, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I thought so,” he mumbled, hiding his smile against your hair.

The Marauder came into view suddenly and Hunter’s stiff fingers were grateful. Glancing down at you he concluded the cold was starting to get to you too and pulled you a little closer.

“Think you can sleep now?”

“I hope so,” you huffed, shoving your hands under your arms. “But above all else, I want to get warm again.”

“You did this to yourself,” Hunter mumbled, smirking when you smacked his stomach, a quiet laugh bubbling past his lips.

Tech hadn’t moved, not that Hunter had expected him to, and he herded you toward the bunks again, waiting for the hatch to close. You quickly hid the treats with your things, winking at him when he stepped out of the cockpit. Quickly shedding your extra layers you climbed back into bed as Hunter stripped to his blacks again. Echo shifted, the whites of his eyes standing out in the otherwise dark ship.

“Wha?” Echo mumbled, blinking up at Hunter.

“Go back to bed,” Hunter whispered, reaching down to lightly rub Echo’s arm before climbing up to join you. You had your back against the wall, holding the blanket up for him. He barely got settled before you curled into his chest, pressing your ice-cold nose against his collarbone.

“Sorry for waking you,” you mumbled, draping your arm over his waist. Hunter smiled, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, and pressing his lips against the top of your head.

“Don’t be. I liked our little adventure,” he replied quietly, rubbing between your shoulders.

“Love you,” you slurred, your breathing already slowing. Hunter kissed your hair, letting his eyes drift shut as he listened to the thump of your heartbeat.

“Love you too, cyar’ika.” Sleep was precious to them...but in a galaxy filled with sorrow, it was the little adventures that made it worth living.

#tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #hunter tbb x reader #clone fic gift exchange #life day gift exchange #the bad batch hunter x reader #the bad batch #star wars

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sadiecoocoo · 3 months

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The trooper shook his head harshly, like a wild cat digging her teeth further into her prey. Echo let out a rough yelp as he felt rather than heard the metal of his scomp crunch. His head was swimming with pain and sickness, he felt helpless and pathetic. He knew he was getting weaker, he could feel it with almost every breath. Each time he had had a coughing fit, luckily only twice now, it felt like something was creeping into his head. It made him feel enraged, with the thought that something else was there that shouldn’t be. He was used to invasive code, to the occasional virus that he would pick up when trying to hack into separatist systems, but this felt organic. This wasn’t something messing with his cybernetics, with the pieces of him that didn’t feel like him. This was attacking the few human bits he had left. It was attacking, and it was winning. It made him angry, it made him think things about these sick troopers that he only ever thought about the Techno Union. Shoot them repeatedly, jam your scomp into their throats, stomp on their skulls until it was mush staining the floor. He didn’t want to think that. Sick or not, these were vode. He tried to imagine one of the Batch being applied to these disgusting thoughts, but to his own horror the idea never left. Sometimes he thought it even got louder, more demanding. The trooper pinning him started pulling against his scomp, trying to bite off a chunk of metal. Echo let out another scream as the phantom pains told him he was losing flesh and not replaceable durasteel. He yanked on his scomp, trying to force the trooper back down. Even if he would be pinned, the trooper wouldn’t be able to do anything to hurt him other than claw and grab, unless he let go of Echo’s scomp. Echo brought his hand up to push against the trooper’s face. His wide, bloodshot eyes flashed towards the limb, and he grabbed it before Echo could even reach his face. He dug his fingernails into the skin and made little crescent indents. It wasn’t long before a small trickle of blood leaked down his wrist. He grit his teeth. It was nothing, it wouldn’t last. He didn’t need to worry about himself. He needed to get free, then help Tech. he could see his vod’ika in his peripheral vision, pinned similarly to Echo. he was weakly holding his shaking arms up to keep the trooper’s snapping jaw away from him. Echo looked away as the pressure on his scomp started to lift. His wrist was pulled up as the trooper moved his mouth, open wide to bite, towards his hand. Echo saw his opportunity and took it. Jam your scomp into his throat. The voice screamed. He couldn't help but agree with it, despite himself. He maneuvered his scomp back, then pushed it forward with as much force as his muddled mind could muster. It sank into the trooper’s flesh with a squelch. Blood trickled down his scomp and pooled in the crook of his elbow until it dripped off onto Echo’s chest. The two made eye contact. Both held a sickening fear in their wide eyes. Echo’s lip trembled slightly as he spun his scomp, tearing the trooper’s flesh to shreds. The blood started to splatter violently against Echo’s face. He tore out his scomp through the side, almost completely decapitating the trooper. The trooper lilted to the side as he fell off of Echo.

more of the zombie tbb fic I'm working on! I have a lot written (15k words somehow) and have divided some of it up into different chapters. I want to tease more but I really don't want to spoil a lot of things lol

NPTs: @squad-724 @arctrooper69 @weyrwolfen @clownery-and-fuckery @charlieisannoying @greyangelpain

#tbb #tbb echo #star wars #tbb fanfiction #zombie #zombies #zombie fic

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casp1an-sea · 5 months

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I love TCW and TBB but the white washing still pisses me off

All clones are meant to look like their live action counter pasts which are portrayed by Temuera Morrison

Temuera Morrison IS NOT WHITE

HE IS Māori

I’ve literally heard people say “He’s not POC because he’s light skinned” or “He’s not POC because he’s got Scottish ancestry”

That’s just fucking stupid and racist you’re disgusting!

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This is a picture of Temuera Morrison around the time Attack of the clones was being filmed and also him portraying Jango Fett in that movie:

As you can see he is not super pale and his hair is VERY CLEARLY CURRLY!

Now here is a picture of Rex with the normal clone skin tone next to my poor boy Tech :(

LIKE WTF??????

After the release of the original trailer for season one of TBB they actually had to go back in and darken the clones skin tone due to all the back lash they got, but Tech still looks like this and Crosshair is also paler then the other clones aside from Tech.

Then there’s the clones with longer hair like Howzer, Obviously Hunter, and now Emerie too. WHERE’S THE CURL????? I highly doubt every clone straightens their hair every day!

It’s also the child clones too!

Omega always looks like she has pin straight hair

here’s some more examples

I will give them a partial pass because Daniel Logan who portrayed young Boba Fett in live action does not have the same hair texture as Temuera but still I feel like it should be based more on the adults then the children and the adults aren’t even accurate! Plus the kids are kinda pale too.

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AND I DON’T WANT TO HERE ANYONE SAYING THAT IT WAS A STYLISTIC CHOICE OR THRY COUND’T MANAGE IT. THEY’VE DRAWN MULTIPLE HAIR TEXTURES BEFORE! and that’s also just not an excuse in general. If an art style can’t accurately represent certain hair textures there is a problem with that art style.

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Also I gotta say it I am not a fan of the cyborg Echo design

Like come on now give my boy back his melanin

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It’s season three Of TBB with new episodes coming out every Wednesday and there’s been seven seasons of TCW. Why has Disney not adressed these issues and fixed them if it’s something the fans have been mad about for a long time? Star Wars loves taking advice from their fans until they critique it on their harmful design choices.

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I know this is a Star Wars thing, but I think it’s important for everyone to see

@xen-blank @thehollowwriter @ferris-the-wheel @fizzydreamz @hyperfixation-or-death

@ravenwing0110 @keii-starz @distant-velleity

@krenenbaker @elenauaurs @the-banana-0verlord @edith-is-a-cat @dove-da-birb

@cimonim-crunch @theosb0rnway @fryofthefrench

@sunshinechildskywalker @xentari94

#Star Wars #tbb #tcw #white washing

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chopper-base · 1 year

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TBB Reverse!AU

Chapter one is finished!!! Still haven't figured out a name for this series, so I'll take any suggestions yall have!!

Summary: Crosshair and Echo watch the rest of their team succumb to the chip's control.

Warnings: Character death, canon character death, violence, canon divergence, alternate universe

WC: 2591

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Crosshair didn’t know what to think when he turned to see the regs firing at their Jedi General. Over the sound of blaster fire, he could hear her voice screaming at her padawan to run. Her terror-filled voice sent shivers down the sniper's spine. The Padawan was running in their direction but skidded to a stop when he noticed them in front of him. The Padawan looked at the Bad Batch in fear, taking a shaky step back before turning and disappearing into the snowy woods.

Crosshair looked between the regs running toward the batch and the woods where the kid disappeared, trying to figure out what had caused the regs’ sudden turn.

The realization that Tech was reading something off his datapad had Crosshair snapping his attention back to his brother. Tech explained that General Grievous had been defeated, marking the end of the war. “The com channels are repeating one directive.” Tech’s demeanor changed as he read the next line, “Execute Order 66.”

The moment the words left Tech’s mouth, Crosshair knew something was wrong. He watched as everyone but Echo stiffened. Hunter’s sharp eyes growing eerily distant.

“We need to go after the kid,” Echo broke the strange silence, pointing to where the padawan had disappeared, “He’s gonna get himself killed out there alone!”

Hunter glared at Echo, causing the Corporal to take a step back. “The kid is a jedi. The order includes him,”

“The order??” Echo’s eyes were wide with shock, “Hunter! He’s a kid! We don’t even know what the ‘order’ is!”

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

A pause. Echo’s confused and pleading eyes stared back at Hunter’s distant ones before the Sergeant turned towards where the kid had vanished. “...what?”

Following the trail of small footsteps through the snow, Hunter ignored the ARC. Not another word was uttered as Tech and Wrecker followed behind him, holding their weapons at ready. Echo watched them go, turning towards Crosshair, who hesitantly followed the others.

Before Crosshair could go any further, Echo grabbed his arm desperately. “Crosshair, I know you guys don’t work with the Jedi almost ever, but come on! It’s a kid!!”

Crosshair nodded. “Believe me, I know. Something’s… off. Hunter would never-“

Blaster fire echoed through the mountain range. Crosshair whipped his head around, looking down towards the woods before back up at Echo. Not a word was exchanged as both immediately took off down the snowy slope after their brothers.

The blaster fire stopped as they got closer. Crosshair’s breath caught in his throat as they spotted the rest of the batch. At Hunter’s feet lay the motionless body of the padawan, four blaster burns decorating the young boy’s chest. His eyes were open, but their light was long gone. His round, childish features were frozen in an expression of permanent fear.

The Padawan’s lightsaber was clenched in Hunter’s fist, helmet concealing all emotions on his face. Crosshair could see in the Sergeant’s body language, there was not an ounce of guilt or regret.

Everything about his brothers was wrong. Wrecker was silent, not a single joke or quip escaping his lips. Through the clear visor of Tech’s helmet, Crosshair could see how distant his eyes were, fixed on his datapad, not sparing a glance at the small body at his feet.

The regs were getting closer. Crosshair could hear their boots crunching in the snow behind him, but his eyes refused to leave the boy, smoke still rising from his wounds. His brothers had just murdered a child and the only one who seemed to care at all was Echo.

“We’ve been ordered back to Kamino.”

Crosshair tore his eyes away from the child to glare at Tech. There was no emotion behind his words, no Tech explanation, just orders. Hunter barely acknowledged Tech before walking back up the slope, ignoring Crosshair and Echo all together as he passed. Tech and Wrecker were quick to follow, their steps oddly in sync as they followed their Sergeant.

Crosshair spared a glance back at the young padawan, now being moved by the regs, before nodding at Echo to follow him. Staying further back from the other three, Crosshair and Echo fell into step beside each other.

“Something is seriously wrong with them, Cross,” Echo whispered harshly.

Crosshair studied his brothers as they walked, their movements seemingly not their own. “I know. It’s all wrong,” Very, very wrong.

They continued to follow Hunter at a distance throughout the trek back to the Marauder. Crosshair could feel the uneasy feeling radiating from the ARC that was still in step with the sniper.

When they reached the Marauder, Crosshair climbed the ramp behind Echo, his feet barely hitting the top step before Tech started to raise them. On any other day, Crosshair would have made some snarky comment about waiting for him to be inside before shutting the ramp, or even just an annoyed huff and a glare. Today? Crosshair didn’t even bother to look in Tech’s direction, making his way directly to his bunk. He sat down, keeping his Firepuncher in his hands and ignoring the helmet still on his head. He didn’t want his brothers to see the concern that he was sure was all over his face. He knew his brothers; he knew them better than they knew themselves. Whoever was sitting in the cockpit, were not his brothers.

Not even two weeks ago, Crosshair had watched Hunter almost get himself killed trying to protect a kid. He refused to believe that he had just witnessed that same brother murder a child for treason of all things.

That kid couldn’t have been older than thirteen. Why was he even on a battlefield to begin with?

Crosshair could understand a few Jedi committing treason. They had heard of the massacre on Umbara, a Jedi General who pulled just the right strings to trick two battalions to fire upon each other. Hundreds of regs had been murdered for no other reason than Krell finding power hungry satisfaction in their deaths. Apparently Captain Rex had asked the ex-general why he did it and his answer had simply been ‘because I can’.

Crosshair never cared for the regs, but reading that report had his stomach churning. They weren’t even supposed to have access to those reports, but Tech had gotten curious, hacking in and retrieving the reports in a matter of minutes. They had made sure to delete them when Echo had joined, not needing the ARC knowing the horror his late twin had gone through without him.

Crosshair honestly wouldn’t have batted an eye if they had just gone after the Jedi Council. He could count on one hand how many times they had worked with a Jedi, Skywalker being the only one that Crosshair tolerated, but for them to be ordered to murder the padawans? Something extremely screwed up was happening and whatever it was, was coming directly from the top of command.

Crosshair felt as the ship dropped out of hyperspace, leaving him to assume they had arrived back on Kamino. He sighed, forcing himself to stand before making his way to the cockpit. The room was eerily silent as Tech piloted the Marauder towards Tipoca City, his normal fast maneuvers nowhere to be seen. Crosshair hated the way the ship barely rocked as they landed, all Tech’s movements almost droid like.

Echo sat in the co-pilot’s seat, his helmet still secure on his head. Hunter and Wrecker also still wore their helmets, and for once, Crosshair missed the ruckus that was supposed to be their normal.

Hunter exited the Marauder, Wrecker and Tech falling in step as they made their way down the ramp. Crosshair stopped beside the door, waiting for Echo to exit before he followed. Crosshair was the first to notice the hover gurney, a sheet pulled over what was clearly a body being guided across the hanger. He watched as a lightsaber rolled off the gurney, clanging against the metal floor, rolling to a stop at the feet of a reg.

The colors of the surrounding armor caught the sniper’s attention, confusion overtaking him as he spotted the scarlet red of the Corrie Guard. The other companies made sense being here, but seeing the Guard on Kamino made the pit in Crosshair’s stomach sink deeper.

Wordlessly, he continued to follow his brothers through the white halls of Tipoca city; the corridors filled with more troopers than Crosshair had ever seen on Kamino at once.

The batch came to an abrupt stop as Hunter held up his fist. “We’ve got company,” he stated almost coldly. He turned around, the rest of the batch doing the same, quickly spotting their tail.

A small girl stood behind them, waving at the batch, a smile decorating her face. “Hi! I’m Omega!”

Crosshair glanced at Hunter, gauging his reaction as the child introduced herself, his face giving nothing but annoyance. The Sergeant didn’t bother replying to the child, signaling the batch to follow as he began to walk away. The look that came over the girl’s face as Hunter turned away from her had the sniper sneering at the Sergeant.

Echo looked at her with a look of sympathy, offering her a forced smile, “Sorry, kid. We’ve had a rough day. Just… don’t take it personally,”

The girl returned his smile. The look of betrayal on her face stabbed the sniper. He didn’t know who this kid was, but it was evident this child had been excited to meet them, and Hunter barely gave the poor girl a glance.

Echo turned and began to follow the rest, but Crosshair couldn’t help but stare at the girl a little longer. She met his gaze, something in her eyes sending a wave of calm over him. He couldn’t bring himself to return her smile, but he nodded to her, “Stay out of trouble, kid,”

That seemed enough for her, her smile growing just a bit brighter. She waved to him as he turned to catch up with the rest of his brothers.

Something about her was familiar, like he knew, but he couldn’t place it. Her smile burned into his mind, her look of innocence as she introduced herself, the look of betrayal as his brothers cast her off as nothing. He couldn’t get her out of his head, he knew he would likely run into her again, and for a reason Crosshair couldn’t place, he looked forward to it.

—-----------

The Empire. That’s what the republic had now become. A galaxy wide empire with one man sitting at the top, in charge of it all. The thought of a single man being the voice of reason and law didn’t sit well with the sniper. The war was finally finished, yet somehow, Crosshair knew the fight was far from over.

Crosshair began to notice the difference in the regs’ behavior as well, seeming almost as though their minds weren’t their own. Regs never got along with the batch. Insults being thrown their way was just the way of life with the batch when they were on Kamino, but the regs acted as though the batch didn’t exist.

Crosshair eventually found himself in the mess hall, his brothers silently eating around him. He absently stared at the food on his tray, his appetite practically nonexistent. The sniper hadn’t expected much to happen during their meal, seeing as the regs had been weirdly ignoring, but the last thing he expected was a small body sitting to his right. Crosshair looked to see the girl again, smiling up at him as she set her tray beside his. She looked around at the rest of the batch waving, her bright smile still plastered on her face. The only one who paid her any mind was Echo, offering the girls a small smile, and a slightly confused sounding ‘hello’. She looked back at the sniper, her smile now slightly saddened.

“You are aware, sitting with us might attract some unwanted attention?”

The girl’s smile didn’t waver. “But I want to sit with you so I don’t care what they think,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Crosshair tried and failed to hide the small smile that flashed across his lips. “What are you doing on Kamino, anyway?”

The girl shrugged, “I’ve been here all my life,”

Crosshair looked at her in confusion, “All your-?” The voice of a reg behind him had him stopping mid sentence.

“Oh look. The defect squad got themselves a new recruit!”

Crosshair turned to see a small group of regs walking by, a smug look on every one of their faces. Omega shrunk slightly in the seat next to him, which just pissed the sniper off more. Crosshair wasn’t one to start fights with other regs, especially when they were on Kamino, but it was taking everything in him not to launch himself at the smug bastard.

Another reg laughed, “One more member for the sad batch,”

The only thing stopping the sniper now was a small hand that came to rest on his arm, the girl’s face offering him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Crosshair. They’re not worth it,”

The regs walked away, laughing and throwing insults over their shoulder. Omega turned back to the table, offering the sniper a reassuring smile, before starting to eat. Crosshair watched the young girl in fascination, wondering why the child had grown up on Tipoca, of all places. Across the table, Echo was watching her as well, glancing at Crosshair with a look of confusion.

“You said you grew up here on Kamino?” Echo questioned, leaning forward and resting his scomp on the table.

Omega nodded, “I work with Nala Se as her medical assistant.”

Crosshair’s confusion continued to grow as the girl smiled at Echo. “...You’re just a kid? Why would they bring you to Kamino-“

“Crosshair,” Hunter’s voice cut him off. The sniper turned to the Sergeant, meeting his gaze, “Tell the girl to get lost. We are about to leave.”

Crosshair just stared at him as he stood up, quickly followed by Wrecker and Tech. Crosshair turned back to Echo and then to Omega, who looked as though she was holding back tears. He looked back at Echo, holding down the anger that was starting to boil. “If he snaps at me one time, I’m gonna hit him.”

Echo rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, because assaulting your superior officer is a great idea when he’s acting insane.”

“...it’s not his fault.” Omega cut in, her voice barely above a whisper, “He doesn’t have a choice.”

“Doesn’t have-...? The hell does that mean?” Crosshair questioned, a bit more harshly than he wanted, “We’re not droids, kid.”

Omega seemed to shrink into herself, but still looked up to meet the sniper’s eyes. “It’s their inhibitor chip. It’s making them act this way. It’s not their fault!”

“Inhibitor- what?” Echo stared at the kid, as she seemed to shrink even farther.

Before Omega could respond, a voice was calling his name from across the mess hall. He turned to see Hunter standing by the door, his bucket on his head. “Admiral Tarkin has requested for us to run a battle simulation. Let’s go. Both of you.” He barked before turning and disappearing through the door.

Crosshair turned back to Echo, clearly pissed. “...I’m gonna hit him.”

“Cross, no.”

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@idoubleswearimawriter @rain-on-kamino @staycalmandhugaclone @rndmpeep @nekotaetae @arkainea @kalykat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius

#im been fighting with Tumblr for 2 fuckim hours trying to get this posted #star wars #star wars bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb reverse au #star wars fan fic #crosshair tbb #tech tbb #hunter tbb #wrecker tbb #omega tbb #imperial hunter #imperial tech #imperial wrecker #character death #canon death #canon character death

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toska-writes · 1 year

Text

“Surprise!”

Summary: 6 members of the bad batch decided to through a party for the last member

Paring: TBB x GN padawan reader (ITS PLATONIC FOR EVERY MEMBER)

Warning: none just fluff!

Word count: 1377 (Not proof read)

Notes: it’s my birthday tomorrow! The 23rd!! So it felt appropriate how self indulgent is this 🤷‍♀️

In their defense it was sensible not to tell Wrecker or Omega until the day off. They even thought of keeping it from Tech with his blabbering mouth.

Hunter Echo, and Crosshair need the perfect planning though so that was out the window.

"Why didn't you tell me!" Omega tugged at the arm of Hunter for what seemed the millionth time as they walked through the small shops.

Hunter sighed before saying. "Sorry kid, but we couldn't risk it. We can't really surprise them."

Omega didn't seem satisfied with the answer yet until Hunter took her by the shoulder before whispering. "It was Echos idea anyway."

She smiled up at him before trying to lead Hunter to the next little shop. He was going to get an ear full from Echo if he found out Hunter threw him under the bus.

Omegas giggles filled the air snapping Hunter back to his young sister- She claimed that unlike the others she would find the gift you would like the very best for your birthday.

Satisfied she held her hands out in a grabbing motion for Hunter to drop a few credits in.

•✩•

Wrecker swatted Tech's hand away for the millionth time in the last rotation.

"Would ya just let me finish this in peace?" Wrecker was balancing with one foot trying desperately to hang that last banner from the roof of the Marauder.

"If you would hang it sufficiently." Tech muttered to himself finishing blowing up the rest of the balloons.

"Hey!" Wreck whipped his head around, for a moment his entire life flashed before his eyes before Wreckers hand slapped the wall and he fell flat on his back.

The banner now had one end hung neatly from the ceiling and the other completely lowered hung on the wall.

Wrecker only laughed trying to return the breath back to his lungs. "Well Tech hope your happy with that, I'm not gettin' back up there again."

Echos laughed filled the right space, quickly he walked over with a hand outstretched.

Tech only scoffed before throwing a ballon at the head of his brother as he stood. "That is quite alright Wreck, we don't have that much time anyways."

Perfectly on time with his words the hatch to the ship open and in rushed Omega pushing past their legs and up into her loft.

"Well whatcha get 'Mega." Echo called after her.

She didn't poke her head out until the sound of paper crunching filled the room.

"It's a surprise! I gotta wrap it."

Hunter walked over and took a seat momentarily looking around the now brightly colored ship. A small smile appeared on his face.

"Food is all prepared Hunter." Tech spoke over his shoulder, he quickly checked something off of his data pad.

"I'm comming Cross then." Echo took a seat next to the sergeant. "You better finished wrapping." He now directed at the younger girl.

Omega flew from her loft and place the small package next to the small assortment of food and gifts. "Ready." She jumped up to high-5 wrecker.

•✩•

You didn't think Cross was one for nature walks, or sight seeing before as that is what the story he came to you with.

Confusion flew out the window however we Crosshair starting giving you lesson in sharpshooting.

As he talked you didn't dare not to pay attention knowing that this was a privilege to even be breathing near his precious sniper.

Laying down Crosshair snug the blaster into your shoulder and positioning your hands the right way.

"You need to keep steady both internally and externally." He spoke quietly to you lining up your shot.

Breathing in once, the out again you pulled the trigger. The shot wasn’t far from the mark, but with the expert sniper breathing down your next you felt differently.

Crosshair took the time to adjust what seemed to be wrong and let you have a few more shot.

The last 3 neared closer and closer to the center mark of a tree you both decided on. Your focus was all on the center-

That was until Crosshair’s comm beeped sending a rouge shot up through the trees.

“That’ll wrap it up for today then.” He held his hand out waiting for you to return the blaster.

“That last shot was hardly my fault.” You tried to defend yourself getting to your feet quickly.

“Good snipers will tune that out, I thought that’s what the Jedi taught you.” A dastardly smirk edged onto his face.

“Yeah well they did, but I wouldn’t say I was the best at it.” The duo started the small walk back as the twin suns just started retreating over the horizon.

Breaking the comfortable silence you said. “Any reason you wanted to go shooting today?” With this being one of the days the group had nothing planned that was dangerous it was refreshing.

“Doing something nice.” He shrugged pulling a toothpick out its case and putting it right into his mouth.

“Yeah right.” You snorted, quickly bumping shoulders into the man. “Because you were so nice when you first met me.”

“You were weird kid.” He barley spared you a glance before continuing. “And you still are.”

Coming up on the ship now the hatch door wasn’t opened which was odd for a nice cool night. Glancing at the other man quickly, clearly he didn’t think nothing strange so you shrugged it off and opened the door.

Squinting your eyes into the darkness you barley could make out a few figures before the lights flashed on.

“SURPRISE!” A chorus of people yelled. Looking around all the bad batch members had their eyes on you as Omega flew into for a hug.

“You like it?” She asked with a giddy laugh.

“You guys it’s wonderful!” The siths themselves couldn’t have wiped the tooth eating grin from your face. “I barely remembered, how did you know.”

“Your records has all the information needed.” Tech stepped forward wrapping an arm of his own around your shoulder and giving a quick squeeze.

You laughed for saying. “Yeah we’re gonna talk about that later.”

“After food of course!” Wrecker shouted point to a table filled with many delicious treats.

Crosshair planted a hand on your shoulder flashing you a smirk before joining Wrecker with a plate.

You looked around once more, the streamers were magical hanging from the ceiling and the banner… well it definitely made you laugh.

To the side stood Hunter and Echo with their own grins in their faces. Rushing over quickly you gave no warning flinging your self and trapping both of their necks in your arms.

“Thank you too.” You whisper at both of them. “I can’t remember the last time I celebrated something like this.”

“Any time kid.” Hunters warm voice filled your ears.

“Now would you go eat? Some of us trekked along forever looking for it.” Echo playful taped your shoulder.

“Why of course.” You turned, Omega had a plate already stretched out for you and the pair quickly found a comfortable place together on the floor.

Even Gonky got into the spirit with his own party hat on.

Omega rambled on for a minute or two before she finally recalled. “Oh I got you something! It’s way better than the others so you should open it first.”

With your laugh echoing around she jumped up and quickly grabbed the gift off the table.

“You guys didn’t have to get me something.” You said as the package was handed carefully to you.

“The least we could do.” Wrecker boomed from behind you. “Now open it up so I can see what it is.”

With Omega’a and the rest of the Batches eyes on you you peeled the paper away.

Inside was a trooper doll that matched Omega’s, this however seemed to be a tad bigger and had more colors on it.

“Look now we match!” She said delighted. Pointing to the shirt, which seemed to be homemade, Omega said. “It even matches your lightsaber!”

Tears welled in your eyes now. “Oh Omega it’s perfect.” Scooping the girl into your arms you came her a tight cuddle.

This is how you wanted to spend all your birthdays, happily surrounded by your family.

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook

#star wars #star wars clone wars #the clone wars #the clone boys #clone wars #my writing #toska-writes #clone boys #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb echo #tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb x reader #tbb wrecker #the bad batch x reader #platonic #star wars x platonic!reader #reader insert

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seaofsunberries · 2 months

Text

"Flock Together"

Chapter 1

"Theft"

Warnings: hints and references of homelessness, abuse, prison, clowns, violence, theft, jaded views of life, deception, financial struggle, struggle to obtain necessities, angst

A/N: Welcome to my Bad Batch fic! This fic will be a long, multi-parter fic featuring the batch pre-Echo and an OC of mine. This story will run before TCW season 7 and into TBB season 3. The main pairing is a surprise that will be revealed later, but will have bits of TechPhee in it too (which will come in much later ^^;). I hope you all will enjoy!

Chapter 2 (coming soon!)

Before she had even reached double digits in age, she learned that there are five key components to survival: looks, charisma, intelligence, trickery, and selfishness. The former two give a boost in chances, the latter three are essential – especially selfishness. If you didn’t have that, your life might as well be forfeit from the beginning. She was lucky enough to possess all five components. If she hadn’t, she probably would have died long before she reached her teenage years, let alone be in her twenties.

It probably helped that her name changed at least once a week: Robin, Raven, Canary, Crow, Wren. “Sparrow” was her current one as she wandered through Naboo, but between the looks of familiarity of the denizens of the planet and the fact that she was starting to know her way around, it was time to shed that name and move off world. It was easy to do, with money or a ship.

Sparrow had neither.

She hummed against her smile, eyes scanning for her best bet. People passed by her, oblivious to her twitching hands that she had to hold back from darting into certain pockets, and none the wiser when they actually did. They continued on their merry way as she felt the credits in her hands and pockets. She felt against each one, mind crunching numbers as her fingers separated and ran across the metal. Her smile didn’t falter at the answer she reached. Not enough. Not enough for a shuttle, not enough for a bribe, not enough time to get what she needed, not enough ways to travel around the planet within one day to hit as many people to get what she needed, and if she didn’t figure it out, there wouldn’t be enough luck in the world to unscrew her from the mess she’d be in.

That’s when she saw it: a military ship.

Her smile grew wider as her heart thudded harder and faster, her legs carrying her closer to it. It was definitely a republic ship, more reason to keep up her pace. Her brain ran through several thoughts and played back memories of the ships she had stolen once, but none of them had a remotely similar shape to her target’s. Granted, it was a military ship and even if it wasn’t, any event where she piloted a ship with a gun is no longer in any spot of her head.

She paused. This is a military ship.

Stealing from the military wasn’t the worst thing she has done, but it is the most reluctant task she has brought upon herself by far. Between conditioning that soldiers go through and their dedication to their cause, twirling her hair and batting her eyes would be the same as dawning white face paint, a rainbow wig, and a bright red nose.

She’s a homeless, fugitive Pantoran – not a clown.

Even if she were to try the big, honking shoes, searching for memories of laughter yield dust and stale air. You’re already socially dead just by being several children’s nightmares posing as comedy, but being a clown with no gun and still attempting to steal from the military? If she wanted to be shot, she would have had it done in a way where she didn’t go out a fool. Digressing from that, Sparrow is not begging for anyone to put a gun to her head yet. She likes having a heartbeat, thank you very much.

With that aside, it’s still a military ship and the galaxy is still in a war. Morality is nonexistent in the law of survival – mostly – but she probably should have some forms of standards. Who was she to possibly jeopardize a military operation? How many people would she doom by doing this? Maybe she could just ask to be dropped off somewhere in exchange for something. What would military soldiers want anyways? If they’re clones, they would probably want money. She might as well turn herself in if she was coming across a Jedi. Anyone else-

The gray coloring of the ship is interrupted by colorful nose art of Senator Amidala. Her thoughts stop briefly, and she revitalizes her brisk walk.

These soldiers are creeps. They’re probably messing around and getting drunk all the time. These types of men are the type to catcall and leer women, expecting interest and affection just for existing. She’s seen it all before. This is no longer a theft, this is saving a military ship from the grubby hands of perverted, imbecilic people. In order to succeed, she can’t be a homeless, fugitive Pantoran. She smiles brightly, adding a skip to her step as she zips herself up into a new skin. She is now a peppy, friendly denizen of Naboo, ready to greet newcomers with a big smile.

She sees them before they see her, but her steps almost falter as she takes them in. She expected clones, but they’re not. One of them – the shortest – wore a red bandana with long brown hair. The other man to his left wore goggles and probably had scoliosis. The soldier on the right was huge, taller than any of them. The last one had a crosshair tattoo on his right eye and silver hair that she isn’t sure if it was natural or this soldier was succumbing to the weight of the war. Maybe he was actually old and the only thing that gave away his true age was his hair. Their armor was adorned with the colors red, gray, and white. Most – if not all – Republic soldiers were clones. Maybe they were exceptions, which would probably explain the nose art: clones were supposed to have some class and respect.

Soldiers or not, Sparrow already had confirmed they were creeps, so stealing their ship was not going to weigh on her already questionable conscience. If she steals it, they get reprimanded and retrained. She could return it to some clone soldiers later, so the Republic still gets its ship back. She gets offworld, slimy men get chastised and disciplined, and the Republic doesn’t lose any ships. Everyone wins in the long run.

She inhales deeply, taking off one of her wristbands to tie around her long, purple hair. She pats down the pink dress she ripped off a clothingline and smoothes out any wrinkles. She exhales and broadens her smile, taking jolly steps forward as she calls out a greeting with a wave. The men turn to her, no hint of suspicion or aggression – just surprise.

“I’ve never seen you guys here before,” She grins, tilting her head in the manner of a confused, naive person. “Are you guys new?”

“Not really,” the one with the bandana chuckles, turning his body to face her directly. “We’ve been here before, but we’re not planning on staying for long. We’re just finishing a few repairs before we head offworld.”

“The repairs are finished,” the soldier with goggles looked back down at his datapad, “we will need to restock on parts as we head back.”

“Why not just restock now?” Sparrow tilts her head, letting purple locks of hair shift slightly. “I work at a shop that has a lot of ship parts. I think our sale for Republic fighters is still going on.”

“That includes clones?” The one with silver hair speaks up, his voice much scratchier than she expected. Additionally, it confirmed these men were clones, just . . . abnormal ones.

“Why not?” She smiles, never skipping a beat, “clones or not, you’re all risking your lives out there for us. If you ask me, it’s the least we can do.”

The other clones open their mouth, but it’s cut off by the big guy’s celebratory shout.

***

Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair – those are their names. To the boys, her name is Dove, because if she ever has to come back here and has to fall back into an old role, it’s best that Sparrow has some sanctity to her name.

“I do not see any offers for sales to Republic soldiers,” Tech pipes up.

“We’re a small business,” Dove waves him off with her hand, “even if you looked us up, you probably wouldn’t find us. The boss is big on growing his business “the proper way” and tends to use outdated tactics to advertise.”

“And he expects his business to grow that way?” Hunter’s incredulous voice screams disbelief.

“He’s a stubborn guy,” she shrugs, “just a warning, he gets irate when you question him, so don’t ask him about it . . . or look into it, really. He has a sixth sense for people investigating his past or business, and he’ll probably force you to leave and fire me on the spot.”

“Charming,” Crosshair scoffs.

She spins around, stopping them in their tracks with narrowed eyes, ��I mean it: I’d rather be able to pay my bills, so no funny business.”

After a “yes ma’am” and a smile from Dove, their trip is finished with comfortable silence as she leads them through the doors of the store. It’s empty, like it usually would be at this time of day, considering it’s the employees break time. The boss is likely still in the back, eating by now, which gives her at most an hour before they’re alerted that something else is up.

“Feel free to wander around the store,” she points to the back, “I have to let my boss know that we have some customers during our break and that I’ll be ringing you guys up.”

Hunter frowns, “you brought us here on your break? Does your boss even allow this?”

“It’s lunch break and I don't normally work today,” she shrugs again, “but I know the systems, so it should be fine. You guys need to restock, and I thought it would be safer for you guys to just have the parts you need now in case something happened. You never know in war,” she hums thoughtfully, “but you’re right. I should check with him. Don’t wait for me – the most that will happen is that he refuses to pay me for these five minutes – and five minutes extra won’t kill me.”

She waves them off again before they can get another word in, heading into the back and locking it behind her. Her feet carry her to the backdoor with barely disguised haste. The second she’s out, before the door even closes behind her, she sprints. She doesn’t stop even when her legs beg her to and she refuses to waste a single second on tripping over herself. When their ship comes into view, she runs faster, tumbling into the door they left open and making her way to the cockpit. She gazes over the buttons and dashboard, lost before her hands start touching everything. Suddenly, the ship rises, and she’s steering and speeding it into the sky. Another button closes the door, and she fumbles with the hyperdrive. There’s another button that’s beeping and blinking – that one she decidedly ignores – and another button has her thrown back into the chair as the stars blur around her. The familiar beauty of hyperspace greets her eyes once she opens them.

She relaxes, back sliding against the chair as she melts into the floor. Her heartbeat slowly calms from its rapid speed induced by her panicked escape.

Her escape will probably have her on a wanted list very soon. “Dove” is a name that will have to be retired immediately, and she’ll need to find money to make a new bribe. This was all for nothing if she got stuck somewhere and got caught. Prison is not a place she would survive. She knows her short stature might as well be a neon sign screaming “beat me! I’m vulnerable!”

She had a taste of that already – she’s not going back.

She pulls herself off the ground, resting her hand on the back of the chair to balance herself while she takes in her surroundings. Wires and projects are everywhere, weapons are on the floor, dirt and dust and dirty laundry are scattered all over the place, and the smell-

She scrunches up her nose, closes her eyes, and exhales deeply. When the smell infiltrates her nose again, she immediately tells herself that it’s not and she actually doesn’t smell anything at all. She forces her thoughts on the weapons, tools, and explosives. She pulls out each one, examining and doing the mental math in her head.

It’ll be enough, enough to last her a while.

Within a few hours, she has one pile and one mountain set up. The mountain is loaded to the top with valuables that she’ll trade for means of getting hair dye, makeup, new clothes, food, and water. The pile is made up of smoke grenades, a blaster, some scrap metal, rations, and two clean, black shirts. She spreads out the smaller one, ripping, tearing, and cutting into the fabric until it can no longer be recognized as a shirt. Carefully, she places the rest of the pile on top of it, and then ties the former article of clothing into a bag.

She leans back against the wall, ignoring the honking of a strange droid that she was sure those clones could probably track to wherever she landed. She knows a place where she could quickly sell everything and leave – all she needed to do was plug in the coordinates and toss it over to the man running the market. Worries of how to get food and water and how much she should get in a day won’t plague her head for what she hopes to be a while. Stability is rare, but she’ll cherish it while it lasts. She could possibly gain more if she sold the ship too, but that would be too risky. It might not sell for much anyways, with its worn down appearance. The Senator Amidala nose art isn’t doing the poor thing any favors either. Wherever the ship ends up after she leaves it, the art piece of the senator won’t be on there. Maybe a pink smiling face would do better instead. The man who runs the market has a daughter, she would probably like that.

She sighs, pulling herself from the wall and making one last round of the ship. Her eyes double checking shadows and narrowing in on other items. She lifts the items she deemed worthless to her eyes and scrutinizes them, her mind going over the possible value over and over again. When she turns to go back to the cockpit, confirming that she got everything she could, her foot brushes up something soft and smooth. Blinking, she kneels down and gently lifts a black and red object from the ground.

It’s a tooka toy, she realizes as she absently runs her fingers across it. She can see the wear in it, but any tears that existed have been sown back into shape. She has to narrow her eyes and lean forward to see the stitch marks. It’s clean, only having tiny hints of the stench that plagues the entire ship. It’s soft – so soft – with little, red, round eyes and downwards mouth. Gravity has its limbs and heads flopping back innocently, at least in the way she’s holding it. If she were to move it around, she could probably pretend it talks in a high pitch voice.

Something inside her feels soft, and there’s pressure and burning in her eyes that she didn’t feel before. An inhale becomes a sniffle, and she wraps her body around the doll, shielding it from something she can’t see. A small whisper tells her that the doll should be shielded from her, and she doesn’t think she can disagree. An inner knife stabs her when she doesn’t let it go.

***

The ship reaches its destination several hours later, early into the next day. The owner of the market tosses her some paint and tells her to cover up the nose art before his daughter wakes up, and then he’ll pay. She doesn’t know what to make, so she dumps some purple paint over it and watches it all drip to the floor. She stares at the splatter for a few minutes, before she paints a few strawberries and a teddy bear on it. It’s when she finishes the last eye of the toy that the owner calls her.

“Here, Finch,” he pushes a bag into her hands, “for everything you sold me. I dunno what I’ll do with the ship, but I’ll figure it out long before the Republic finds it.”

She gives him the same smile that is always on her face with a nod, feeling the weight of the bag in her hands. She places a few of the credits inside into her pockets before storing the rest into the makeshift bag she made yesterday. The fact that it’s weight makes the pouch sag a little more makes her smile widen. It’s enough.

“How much for the toy?”

She turns her head quickly to the owner, bringing the Tooka doll closer to her chest. Her smile never fades, but her tone becomes sharp and firm.

“Not for sale.”

***

Hunter likes to believe he is a patient, rational man, but he might have to pass that title over to Tech.

Granted, Tech is frozen into a rigid statue, so maybe he isn’t keeping his composure either. He had given one “this is not ideal” before falling silent. His disbelief and anger are probably manifesting in a way that none of the brothers have ever seen before. Tech has always been one to be ruled by logic and facts, not emotions.

But this? This takes the cake and eats it too.

The Marauder has almost been stripped clean on the inside, the only remains of what had been were a few wires, some clothes, the smell, and the parts of the ship you just couldn’t move in general – like the bunks and seats. Gonky waddles past them, tracking purple paint back into the ship. By the fourth step, Hunter hears Crosshair’s toothpick snap in half between his teeth – never a good sign.

Hunter turns around, just in time to see his brother fail to put another toothpick in his mouth because he snapped it in between his fingers before he could even get it close to his mouth, “Did we manage to get anything back? Anything about that woman?”

“Not enough,” Crosshair growls, managing to get the third toothpick into his mouth and rolling it. “All he said was that her name was “Finch,” and Wrecker can’t find-”

“She took my Lula!”

The sound of Wrecker’s devastation causes Crosshair to snap his third toothpick while Tech breaks free from his statue to turn towards them. Hunter inhales deeply – he’s the leader. He is a rational man.

He looks inside the Marauder, purple paint spreading everywhere. He looks outside their ship, the nose covered in the same paint with strawberries, sparkles and a large teddy bear on top. He looks at Wrecker’s tearful face, Crosshair’s pinched expression, and Tech’s tight grip on his datapad.

“We,” Hunter growls, “are going to track her down.”

Of course, they couldn’t devote the time needed to track the Pantoran woman down, but her actions made the batch declare her as their personal public enemy number one.

#the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb oc #tbb fanfiction #Flock Together fanfic

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neyswxrld · 9 months

Text

touching souls

Echo x reader (gn)

summary: Taking a walk in the winter wonderland with Echo!

warnings: just some kisses

word count: ~740

advent calendar masterlist

a/n: this is the twenty-first fic for my advent calendar! i think this might be the one i like the most, lol. and, if you wanna see a tbb era echo as a winter prince in a winter wonderland, you should look at this edit by @isthereanechoinhere96!

You breathe in the fresh air of the snowy white afternoon. White snowflakes make their way toward the earth, almost like feathers. Peaceful and quiet.

It is cold, and your breath comes out in small, white clouds. You are clothed in your warmest clothes, hiding your ears beneath a beanie and your face in a huge scarf.

Nevertheless, the weather is refreshing and stimulating, forming a contrast to your warm and cozy home.

You take another deep breath, looking at the pine woods. Green and black patches shine through the white coat, and your steps crunch as you slowly walk through the snow. In the distance, you can hear some burbling of a restless stream, trying to fight the freezing temperatures.

You come to a halt and almost relieved, you exhale again, following your breath with your eyes. All the stress fades away and a weight you didn't know of, seems to be lifted off your shoulders.

Suddenly, you feel how strong arms wrap around your body from behind. A warm body presses against your back and a head settles on your shoulders.

Happily, you sigh and lean back into Echo's arms.

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly, breaking the silence of the nature, but not in a disturbing way.

"Yeah," you nod, closing your gloved hands above his. "Thanks for bringing me out here, Echo. I didn't notice how much I needed that," you almost whisper, turning your head a little. He is already looking at you. His brown eyes look into yours and for a short moment, you feel like he's touching your soul with his.

There builds a sweet tension between you, and while you're looking at each other, you feel like you're frozen in the moment, but find yourself not wanting to break it.

Nonetheless, you pull your scarf down and give him a small thankful kiss on his lips. Echo smiles and kisses you back lovingly. He always knows what you need the most, and a small trip to the woods on a snowy day is more than you could have ever imagined.

"You're very welcome. I'd do anything to make you feel happy and relaxed," he tells you after you separate again, a look of pure love in his eyes. Your heart stutters for a second.

"Everything?" you ask, teasing.

"Everything," he hums, rearranging his body, so he is standing next to you. He drapes an arm across your shoulders and together, you start walking again. Wanting more of his closeness, you throw your arm around his waist and pull him close, so there isn't any space left between you.

"Even bringing me that delicious cherry pie from Mrs. Brown?" you want to know. Your neighbor and Echo absolutely disliked each other. It started when he first came to your apartment. You don't even know the reasons for their heated relationship because every time you ask Echo, he just shrugs it off, not wanting to talk about it.

"When it makes you happy," he nods. "She likes you. Wouldn't be that bad if I said it's for you. Besides, you would have to give me a piece of cake, too."

You start to giggle quietly and nod before continuing with your ridiculous questions about what he'd do for you.

Together, you straggle across the path, swaying from left to right, smiling and laughing, pulling small promises from each other's lips.

"Hm... So you would also go and buy me a dog?" you ask, smiling, asking another silly question of what he'll do for you, to see how far he would take it, hypothetically. Echo chuckled lightly and shook his head.

"We first would have to have a talk about that a little bit more, and then I would take you with me to buy a dog," he murmurs, shaking his head. "But I wouldn't be disappointed if that won't happen in the next year or two," he adds.

"What? You would wait that long before getting a dog with me?" you ask, looking at him curiously.

"Well, it's a huge responsibility," he explains to you, looking back. You think about it a little bit before shrugging.

"I guess you're right. Besides, you didn't say no, so that counts. And I will remember that for the next two years," you agree, grinning at him mischievously.

Echo shakes his head, smiling.

He didn't lie. He'd do anything to make you happy.

TAGLIST:

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

#star wars #the clone wars #sweet echo #arc trooper echo x reader #arc trooper echo #echo fic #clone trooper echo #clone wars echo #star wars the clone wars #star wars advent calendar #the clone wars advent calendar

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swift-creates · 1 year

Text

@tbb-appreciation-week DAY 2: ECHO (09/04) — No Order 66 AU | Touching Foreheads | "This wasn't supposed to happen."

characters and relationships: Fives, Echo, (dream) mentions of Krell, Rex and Jesse

warnings: Umbara is its own warning, mentions of violence, death and PTSD, one real-world swear word

Notes: I've wanted to write a TBB!Fives AU for a while now, and now i finally did hehe. can you tell i love (hurting) these two

read on AO3

Grabbing tentacles, thick shadows, blue-gray fog, and screams. Fives had seen this in his mind’s eye far too many times.

They could only guess at where Krell would appear next, where he would leap out of the shadows and add to the 501st’s list of casualties with his quartet of lightsabers, four-armed strikes powerful even without using the Force. Fives pushed through the jungle, the terrain that would be difficult to navigate even if they hadn’t been shrouded in darkness. He remained on Rex’s heels even as blasterfire sounded in the distance, a wailing chorus of death overlapping with the repeated audio over the comms. His helmet’s display zoomed through the dark, narrowed in on Krell’s flashing blades slicing through flesh and plastoid. “He’s coming.” He fought down the dread, the nausea that still crept up his throat no matter how much he tried to train himself out of it, and knelt in front of Jesse, blaster at the ready.

Krell was there faster than he thought, his symphony of slaughter following with a sickening crunch of breaking bones, stealing his brothers’ lives with his bare hands, throwing them into unforgiving tree trunks, slamming them into the ground. Fives’ breath caught as he flung Tup by the head, and the younger trooper went falling somewhere past Fives’ line of sight. There was nothing he could do but force the sick feeling down, keep firing.

Fives blinked and Krell was in front of him. No. No, this isn’t how it went- Panic shot through his thoughts as he was picked up in one monstrous hand, and another raised a blue-bladed lightsaber. No, no no no nonononononononono- Krell brought it down in a sweeping blow, and-

“Fives.” Rex was shaking him awake, but his voice was pitched wrong, like something from a dream, so familiar yet so foreign.

“Fives, ya snoozin’ bantha, wake up.”

That was definitely not Rex. He opened his eyes to see Echo staring down at him, the worry ridge between his eyes furrowed despite his light-hearted words. “You okay, vod? You were doing your sleep-wriggling thing again, but you looked… scared.”

Fives sat up and drew his hands over his face, delaying his response for just a few seconds as he struggled to pack the memories of Umbara back away in their little boxes in his mind. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m… fine. Just a bad dream.”

Studying his face carefully for a moment, Echo turned so his back was to Hunter and sat on the bed by Fives’ leg. “We both know your bad dreams are bad, Fives. What was it this time?” He leaned in closer, lowered his voice. “Was it Lola Sayu again?”

“No-”

“Rishi?”

“No.” Fives looked away, folded his blanket with shaking hands, hoping Echo wouldn’t notice. But of course, he did. He reached over and took it from Fives, folded it neatly in half, quarters, eighths. Set it aside in one of the Marauder’s storage compartments and put his hand over his twin’s.

“You know you’re shit at lying to me.”

“Language.” Rex would have said it, but Rex wasn’t here, so Fives said it, and it made Echo laugh.

“Calm down there, buir. Omega’s still asleep.” He leaned back against the wall, looking at Fives, waiting for him to go on.

“Umbara.” That made Echo’s eyes widen, and he scooted closer.

“Oh. Force. You okay?” he asked, softer. “I know you said it was rough.”

Fives huffed dryly. “Rough is one word for it.” He paused, and Echo waited. It took a moment, but he found the story making its way slowly out. Echo didn’t say anything when he was done, just sat close to him, leaned in and pressed his forehead to Fives’.

“I’m sorry.”

Fives closed his eyes, leaned into his brother’s warm comfort. “It’s not your fault.” “I wasn’t there,” Echo said simply.

“And I don’t wish you were. You’re better off without those memories, trust me.”

Pulling back, Echo was quiet for a moment. “I know. But I wish I’d been with you. Even so.”

“Yeah, well. We’ll never know what would have happened, so. No point dwelling on it.” Fives got up and stretched, then squeezed Echo’s shoulder before heading to the ‘fresher. “I’m fine, Echo. Really.” He didn’t look totally convinced, but nodded anyway.

They went around their day as usual, and occasionally Fives would catch his brother giving him a concerned look. He rolled his eyes. For Force’s sake, he’d said he was fine.

(But that didn’t stop him from crawling into Echo’s bunk later that night and snuggling as close to him as humanly possible.)

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