#tech x oc x crosshair

[clonesuperiority]

Have a Ventress doodle while I'm working on more clone content 👀

[queenofspades6]

I need more seasons of The Bad Batch! I can’t believe this amazing series is almost over… what am I supposed to do after? Just live my life like nothing had happened? These characters are part of me, and I don’t want their story to end.

What do you think?

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

A glorious idea has spawned in my brain

Hunter x Criminal!reader where they have a Batman/Catwoman relationship, however this time Omega meets the reader and absolutely adores her so the reader decides to stick around a bit (despite Hunter's protests). During this time, the reader and Omega form a mother/daughter and Hunter secretly loves it and falls for the reader everytime he sees her with Omega

Hello my lovely anon,

Thank you for such a fantastic request. I hope I did your request justice. The setting is Season 1 of Bad Batch, so hopefully you don't mind too much. I wrote with f!Criminal!reader, hope that's okay. Reader has a nickname.

Enjoy.

Also, since this isn't part of the Fic Roulette request, it'll be filed under the One Shots Master List. It's a little longer almost at 2400 words.

Love oo,

Not Ready

Warnings: Slight thieving, Omega in danger, dangling from a tower, banter, angst, fluff, shooting, dangerous driving, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

Part Two

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“Give it back, and we can just both walk away.”

You twirled the rather large knife in your hand, “Hmmm, no.”

Hunter clenched his fists, “I said, hand it over.”

“And I said no.” You smirked underneath your mask, the only thing visible on your face were your eyes. Eyes so full of cockiness, determination and experience. “I gotta ask though, why so long?” You chuckled, “Compensating for something?” You flipped it back and forth in your hand, twirling it around your palm and the back of your hand. “Has good weight.” You smirked as you arched your brow, “If you know what I mean.”

“I don’t have time for your nonsense!” Hunter looked behind, sensing the Imperial troopers closing in, he let out a sigh, and before you even realized what was happening he tried to stun you. 

Unfortunately, he missed thanks to your ability to sense when danger was imminent. Without even thinking your body back-handspringed away from the blue stun blast. “That was rude.”

“Listen, I need to get to my sister, and I don’t have time to mess around!” Hunter could hear Tech on his comms as he described Omega hanging from the tower. 

“Your sister’s in trouble?” All teasing and flirting died on your lips as soon as you heard that.

“Yes!”

You nodded and tossed the knife back to the chiseled red-bandana wearing man in front of you, “Let me help.”

“No. You’ve helped enough.” His tone full of annoyance and frustration. He grabbed the knife and took off running towards Omega, ignoring the pang of regret from his tone. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know he was running to help Omega. Yet, the frustration from having to waste even a minute on you was more than enough to make him worry about Omega’s safety and that’s all that mattered. 

His feet came to a sudden halt when you appeared in front of him with a speeder bike, “Hop on!”

“What?”

“Just … I feel bad, ok! Now shut up, and get on!”

He didn’t delay, jumping on the back of the speeder holding on to your waist tightly as you weaved through traffic.

“Where is she?” You shouted over the noise of the air rushing past your ears. 

Hunter didn’t respond and simply pointed to the person dangling from the tower, as another helmeted person neared her position. 

You sped up the speeder, you’d know Fennec’s helmet anywhere. You weaved and dodged against the oncoming traffic, almost as though you could see where and when the next vehicle was going to be turning or shifting. Your heart nearly dropped as you saw the tiny person slip, driving faster and more dangerous to catch her in time. 

Hunter reached out his hand and grabbed a hold of Omega’s in midair, tossing her onto his lap, pinning her between the two of you. “You okay, back there?” You shouted to make sure everyone was safe as you saw Fennec jump down and commandeer a vehicle of her own chasing after the three of you. 

“We’re fine. Get us out of here!” He shouted as he quickly checked over Omega to make sure she was uninjured and safe. He couldn’t see much from how she was clutching to his chest plate, but it didn’t seem like she was in pain either. 

“You got this?”

“What?” 

“I’m asking if you know how to drive a speeder?”

“Yeah! Why?” He didn’t clue in to what you were preparing to do until you flipped over him and landed on Fennec’s vehicle.

“Hey gorgeous!” You smirked as you looked at her.

“Ugh! Should’ve known you’d be here.” Fennec answered, rolling her eyes as she tried to keep her eyes on her target.

“Wasn’t supposed but I sort of owed him one. Back off.” You stood aiming your blaster into the hood.

“No can do, little Butterfly.”

Force you hated that nickname, somehow it had stuck among the bounty hunters and assassins, simply because you were quick and light on your feet. Dazzling them with your antics and before they even realized you slipped out of their sight, blending into the crowds more often than not. 

“Fennec, I like you, but you need to back off!”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Nothing.”

“I’ll split the reward with you, if you help me capture the little girl.”

You tried to stay balanced as Fennec tilted the vehicle side to side, “You disappoint me, going after a child.”

“Jobs a job, honey.”

You shook your head, “I warned you,” you shot your blaster into her engine, jumping off onto a nearby transport, watching as her engine began to sputter. She jumped to safety standing on the closest terrace she could find, as she watched you and her target move further away. You jumped down, finding your way back to the ground, hoping from one transport to the next. 

Once you touched solid ground, you looked back up to see Fennec turn and walk away. ‘Until next time, gorgeous.’ You mumbled as you headed back to the marketplace, before you even got five feet away, you felt your body jerk forward as tiny hands wrapped around your waist. You looked down to see the blonde girl, the rather striking man had rescued, his sister. 

“Uh… thanks, kid. I think…” you giggled as you pulled her arms away from you. 

“You saved me!” She beamed with a brilliant smile as she looked at you.

“I think your brother did that. I just drove.” You subtly shook your head, subtly moving away from the overwhelming bundle of joy.

“She has a point,” Hunter offered, “if you didn’t show up with a speeder when you did …” you could tell on his face he didn’t want to think about what might’ve happened.

“Listen, Fennec would’ve come up with something. She’s a bounty hunter, but she’s a fairly decent one. Anyway I’m glad you’re safe,” you patted the little girl’s head, “take care of yourself and your brother. Seems like he gets into trouble easily.” You turned to walk away when she gripped your fingers.

“Come with us.” She pleaded looking at you with big eyes that were asking for more than you were prepared to give, or have given to anyone since you could actually remember. It was nice to feel needed, but it was too much. 

Hunter wanted to grab Omega and pull her away from this woman who showed up, and was constantly surprising and making him feel uneasy at every turn. “Omega, we don’t know her circumstances. She’s probably already committed to something else, right?” Hunter narrowed his eyes on the helmeted woman in front of him, not wanting her to take the invitation Omega offered.

You’ve seen that look a thousand times before. It said everything that really mattered, you weren’t welcome, and he wanted you to leave as soon as possible. 

“Don’t worry,” you started keeping your eyes locked on the man standing behind Omega, “your brother is right, I’m … currently … occupied with other matters.” You smiled as you turned your attention to Omega, and kneeled before her, “Omega, right?”

She nodded, not letting your fingers go. 

You smiled and pulled out a collapsable vibroblade, “This is Vala,” you flicked your wrist and opened the vibroblade, “my father gave me this when I was about your age, he told me ‘this galaxy is full of good and bad people. Sometimes the good outweighs the bad, and sometimes there are too many bad, you won’t be able to find a good one. Vala, will always be there to protect you.’” You turned her hand palm-up and placed the vibroblade in her tiny hand. “It will protect you. Ask your brother to train you on how to use it. Never rely on someone else to save you, in this galaxy, sometimes the only person you can count on is yourself. Take care, Omega.” You ruffled her hair one more time, before standing up and walking away without looking back. 

It felt strangely comforting to be wanted, even if it was for a brief second. 

“Wait!” Hunter shouted, causing you to turn around, “We left your speeder that way” he pointed over his shoulder, you couldn’t help laughing.

“Don’t worry about it, handsome, it’s not mine.” You smiled and walked away.

Omega turned to Hunter, a saddened smile on her face, “Why couldn’t she come with us?”

“Omega,” Hunter kneeled, “we don’t know who she is. Whether she can even be trusted? It’s best if she goes her way and we meet up with Wrecker, Echo and Tech.”

“But…”

“Omega, I know you have a good heart, but you’re too trusting. It’s best if we keep a low profile and avoid entangling ourselves with people we don’t know. Come on, we gotta meet back up with the others.”

He guided her back to the hangar trying to avoid the Pantoran police force and the troopers that seemed to be searching for someone. 

Omega kept watching as one Pantoran guard held up a picture to a passerby, it was a picture of you. She pulled on Hunter’s sleeve and pointed to the Pantoran’s datapad. 

“They’re looking for her.”

“We should go…” Hunter tightened his grip on her hand, but she refused to move.

“We have to help her.”

“We don’t know why they’re looking for her. She could be a wanted criminal or a murderer, a thief.”

“Hunter, please. She saved me, it’s the least we can do.”

He looked at the picture and commed Wrecker, “Wrecker, where are you?”

“Just entering the marketplace right now, why?” 

“I need you to take Omega back to the ship, I …” he turned his head to look at Omega, “I have to repay someone who helped us get Omega back.”

Wrecker walked through the crowd faster than the others as people naturally moved out of his way, he stood in front of the both of them, tilting his head. “Who, you helping?”

“Don’t worry about it, just get Omega back to the ship and tell Tech we need to take off the minute I get back. Make sure Echo makes it back to the ship too. We may have to get out of here faster than expected.”

“Copy that” Wrecker picked up Omega and had her sitting on his shoulder as he headed back to the hangar with her. 

Hunter could hear the comm chatter between Wrecker, Tech and Echo. He let out a huff and shook his head, this was just asking for trouble. He ran back, heading the way you were walking. It wasn’t long before he found you sitting at a cafe sipping on something warm. 

“Came back to tell me you love me?” You teased him.

“Came back to tell you, you’re in danger.”

“Shocker.” You didn’t react or flinch, as you kept your eyes locked on the man’s eyes. 

“I need to know, are you a murderer?”

“No.”

“Do you have a bounty on your head with some crime boss or something?”

“No.”

“Then get up” he grabbed your arm and forced you to stand, grabbing your helmet as he pulled you along, running behind him. 

“Wait… hey!” You stopped in your tracks and pulled your arm out of his hold, “Who the hell do you think you are, pulling me like that? You know I have the right …” he put a hand over your mouth and pushed you into a darkened alley, hiding you with his body as a Pantoran patrol passed the two of you.

“They’re searching for you, and not just the police. The Imperial troopers are looking for you too.” He stepped away and handed you your helmet, “Listen, I don’t care what happens to you, but Omega was worried, and I’m not going to disappoint her. You’re warned. So you can either go back out there and try and avoid whatever trouble you got yourself into or…” he let out a sigh regretting the words that were about to come out of his mouth, “You can come with us and we can drop you off somewhere.”

“Us?”

“My brothers, Omega and myself.”

“Why are you helping?”

“Like I said, I don’t want to disappoint Omega. So what’s it going to be?”

You looked at him and then at the increased patrols you hadn’t realized were slowly filling up the streets, they all seemed to be looking for you. You closed your eyes and tapped your helmeted head against the wall, “Alright. I’ll trust you. Lead the way.”

He stepped closer to you, “I’m taking a chance on you, you put any of us in danger, and you and I are going to go another round, understood?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fine. What do I call you anyway? Because I don’t think ‘stuck up jackass’ would work.”

“It’s Hunter, and what do I call you? Because I don’t think ‘crazy tooka’ works.”

You smirked as you looked at him, “You can just call me Butterfly. Hunter.”

“Fine. Now let’s go. Butterfly.”

“You know I’m not as bad as you think.”

“And hell is just a sauna, shut up and follow me.”

As much as you tried to fight the urge to smile, you couldn’t help but enjoy the banter you two had. You also couldn’t help but examine his physique as you followed behind him, moving around the crowd, ducking and avoiding capture until you made it to his ship. 

Omega ran to you and hugged you again, “I knew he’d find you, come on. Let me show you inside.” 

She gripped your hand and dragged you along. You weren’t looking for family, but … as you moved closer to the ship, there was a strange sense of belonging that came from meeting the rest of her brothers. For the first time in a long time, you felt at home. 

Hunter watched you and the way Omega gripped your hand, as you introduced yourself to Wrecker, Tech and Echo. He had to admit, you were attractive, when he saw you without your helmet, he almost felt his tongue getting all tied up. Not to mention, the outfit you wore also drew attention to your physique which didn’t help. He didn’t know why but he had a feeling this could either be a really horrible idea, or it would be a very pleasant surprise. 

Next

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[mythical-illustrator]

For @staycalmandhugaclone the final drawing

From their story Docs Adventures, Found Footage Chapter (go check it out, it's a bad batch x reader)

the Doc and her boys cuddle for the night after a stressful evening out

I was really nervous about this one because it's a larger more detailed piece than I've done before or really in a while. But I'm happy with it 😀

Art master list

This is not cl0necest, just emotional support for someone special.

* The bed is based on star wars hotel rooms.

*I had to screen shot the paragraph I pulled this from to get everything perfectly. Hopefully I got it all 🙃 so many limbs 😩

[oceansssblue]

~[INDEPENDENT ONE-SHOTS]

[THE BAD BATCH]– "ONE HUG AWAY"

HUNTER/F READER 💖💔

TRAVELLING WITH THE BATCH FOR QUITE SOME TIME NOW, HUNTER AND YOU HAVE GROWN TO BE THE BEST OF FRIENDS. BUT FRIENDS DON'T FEEL LIKE YOU DO AFTER JUST ONE –OR MAYBE TOO MANY– HUGS, RIGHT?

I JUST WANTED AN EXCUSE TO HUG HUNTER OKAY?

WARNINGS: PTSD–EXPLICIT WAR NIGHTMARES (BLOOD&FAMILY LOSS) IN THE FIRST PART 💔 (CAN SKIP IF YOU WANNA), OTHERWISE PURE FLUFF 💖.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You have a recurring nightmare. Sometimes it's just the smell; smoke and ashes, and the rotting skin of the deceased bodies that pile around you being burnt. Your nose scrunches in your sleep and you turn to your side, trying to get rid of the stench of blood and death. It doesn't usually work; and it doesn't this time, either.

Sometimes it progresses to images. Flashes of endless battalions of droids and endless battalions of clones; mixed with your own people in between, the numbers of the three groups reducing drastically each day the war drags on. It used to be beautiful, your planet, with it's peculiar blue grass and vibrant flowers; tall delicate trees and a fascinating wildlife. Now everything is mutted to orange, grey and black; fire and the shattered debris of the capital left behind.

The images turn real with sounds. It's a slow transition. It starts as a distant distorted echo, as if you were listening to something underwater. Then it blasts; roaring in increasing intensity until your ears ring and you shake unconsciously in your sleep, trashing around in your bunk.

Screams. Orders. Cries. Begging for help. Tears in your eyes. Smoke. Fire. Blood, dripping from the open gash of your shoulder and the shot wound on your side. Where are they? You can't see them. Are they safe? Are they...?

You shout their names. The tears keep streaming down your face, wetting your cheeks in real life too. You whimper in your sleep, your body shaking in place.

You can't see them again. You beg not to. But the "you" in your nightmare turns around, slowly, almost recreatively; and then...

"No!" You wake up crying, no restraint whatsoever in how you do.

You weren't even aware of it; of the way your body replicated the same emotions of that damned day of your past while sleeping in your bunk in the Marauder, surrounded by your boys, the family you have now.

You take a deep breath –a weak, stuttering thing–. Your hands quickly find their way to the collar of your t-shirt, tugging it down harshly to expose the scar on your shoulder. Your eyes flicker over every inch.

Another

deep

breath.

Your heartbeat hammers in your chest. Your trembling hands slowly pull up the end of the shirt to reveal your side as well; another scar etched in place.

You touch them. You breathe. You're safe. That had been the past; and while your loss had been heartbreaking and terrible, you were not alone in your present. You had the Batch; you were not back there.

Your breathing pattern starts to slow; your heartbeat still protesting madly in your chest. You let your shirt drop back to place and sigh, still sitting in the middle of your bunk. You take a glance around. You hope you haven't woken up any of them; Maker knows they need the sleep, after last night. You specially hope you haven't startled...

Hunter. He's laying on his bunk with his torso propped up on his elbows; gaze stady and intent on your shape. You can barely see him in the darkness of the room; just his siluete and the weight of his heavy stare. He knows. He can hear your heartbeat, your breathing. He could hear your quiet whimpers and cries, before, maybe even smell your tears. Hell, he can probably guess what the dream was all about. After all, he had been the one to help her escape the wrath of the Separatists. He had seen the destruction of her planet, too.

A powerful need to go to him wrecks you. Your fingers tremble, and a choked sound threatens to pour out of your lips. You hesitate for just a second. Hunter and you have never really been that close before –fellowship, fondness and polite respect, sure, but not that level of raw affection–; and you don't want to bother him. Or make him feel weird. Or like he has to take care of you out of duty as the good human being he is but not really wanting to do so. But you need him. You do.

You cross the small space between both of your bunks as noiseless as posible, wavering on your tip-toes. He tracks every one of your movements; chin tilting up slightly to look up at you when you finally stand in front of him. You play with your own hands for a moment; feeling uncertain and restless in the expectant silence. You can see him a tiny bit better now; long hair –a bit of a mess without his bandana on–, sharp profile and impossibly magnetic eyes. He's always being so good to you...

You feel yourself starting to shake again –your emotions swirling inside your mind–; but it all stops with Hunter's movement as he pulls the covers back with one hand in a clear invitation to share his bed for the night. You make a small needy uncontrolable sound with your throat; and scramble to crawl in his bunk besides him without much thought.

Hunter's body is incredibly firm and warm. You move for a few seconds while trying to find the best position against him; quickly setting for your cheek pressing into his chest and your nose hiding in his neck, one arm wrapped around him and both legs respectfully on top of the thin matress inches away from his. Hunter make's a deep humming sound of his own and his right hand slowly presses against the middle of your back; just a reassuring presence that without words messages "i'm here". You know. He always is.

You take in his comforting familiar scent and sigh. You're too tired to give much thought to the fact that you're actually hugging Hunter; and dark memories replaced in his safe embrace, you take no time in drifting back again into unconsciousness.

Hunter stays awake for a while; making sure your nightmares don't return before going back to sleep as well, getting used to the strange feeling of being this close to you. It's new; and nicer than he'd like to admit to himself.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The second time you hug him is a relief-driven action that holds no pre-planed thought at all. You had been waiting for news of the Batch for weeks now, having to stay back on Pabu after breaking your arm in the last mission; forced to watch them go on their own. It hadn't gone right for them either –the Empire smelling their trace and making their trip twice as long and with no coms available, even with Tech's security measures–. You had nearly picked your nails off; and a somehow un-nervous Phee standing next to you and chuckling to herself for whatever mysterious reason you couldn't care to find out had definitely not helped.

You're running towards them the moment the Marauder touches the ground. Wrecker's the first to walk the ramp; and though you care for him dearly, it's not him you jump towards.

Hunter has no other option than to hold you tightly against his chest in surprise when you crash into him. The force of your desperate hug makes him stumble –definetly not expecting that kind of welcome from you–; but he quickly gains his footing and carefully and almost hesitantly hugs you back.

"You should be more carefull with that arm" he points out, voice deep and roughned up by the tiredness and dehydratation close to your ear. "A cast doesn't give you inmunity".

You chuckle, tightening your one-arm hug against him once before taking a deep relieved breath in and stepping back. You tilt your head to look up into Hunter's dark chocolate eyes. He looks exhausted, but still holds a firm and gentle aura. He's always the composed soldier; and you admire him for that.

"No, and that's why I've mastered the one-side tackle" you joke, eying quickly the rest of the Batch and softening your glance. "I'm glad you're back and safe, Hunter".

His eyes fill with warmth and affection at your sweet, sincere tone. A fleeting thought passes through your head, noticing the difference between amicable fondness and this newfound emotion shining in his gaze. His hand briefly squeezes your un-injured shoulder once, close enough to your old scar that it somehow makes it burn. You wouldn't have been able to take your eyes of him even if you tried to.

Hunter pulls his hand back and offers a tiny tired smile.

"I'm glad to be back too".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The physical contact with Hunter continues to grow in the following month; until it becomes a natural expected thing, a helping hand or a brush of arms here and there.

Hunter's the one to actually give you the third hug. It's one night when you all say your goodbyes to each other and prepare to get to your respective apartments for the night that happens. The people in Pabu had been kind enough to offer a twin set for you lot; having divided yourself in boys and girls. Hunter bends down to give Omega a hug; turning right after to you and enveloping your figure in his arms as well.

You freeze momentarily –though not in disgust–; your heartbeat speeding up slightly at the surprising –and unusal– gesture. Yeah, you've hugged Hunter yourself twice now; but he has never been one to initiate contact himself, maybe too polite for that.

It's him who realises what he's done, stepping back with a confused expression on his face and pushing his long hair back in a shy selfconscious tick.

"Oh, um... I don't know why I did that. My bad" he shrugs it off, offering a sheepish smile, and you chuckle at his reaction.

Not so composed this time.

"That's alright, Hunter. I don't mind. You're a good hugger" you point out.

His expresion turns into amusement, and he shows his signature side smirk. He crosses his arms in front of his chest. He's one of a motherfucker atractive man. Future girlfriend will be ecstatic to have him.

"Am I, now?"

You both laugh softly, and he decides it's time to leave you so you can have some time to rest. They're going on a mission tomorrow, and he needs you bright and early.

"Good night, mesh'la" he tells you, voice soft feeling like a caress, and you study him in curiosity at the new Mando'a.

You've heard them say some words here and there –mostly insults or surprised expressions–; but never that one.

Before you're able to ask the meaning of it, Hunter offers a last smile and turns around, quietly walking away to their own apartment straight across from yours. Your eyes never leave his retrearing figure; while Omega's switches curiously between you both.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You lose count after the fourth one. Hugs start to form part of your usual rutine; sometimes a quick way of saying "hello" or "goodbye" and sometimes a simple show of affection, until it reaches the point where they're not unexpected anymore –though equally pleasant–. You also start to hug the rest of the Batch as well; not Echo, of course –he isn't comfortable with you like that just yet, though he admits small pats and squeezes on the shoulder as a substitute–, but Omega, Tech and Wrecker. Each hug with them feels different than rest; Hunter's keeps being the best.

It's not just physical contact that grows over the two of you; but mental as well. You often find yourself sitting with him in the cockpit –when you're on a mission– or strolling through Pabu –sometimes with Omega on your tail, sometimes not– when you're on a break. Your relationship with him deepens. He even opens up enough to talk about Crosshair; something you know it hurts him and has never been mentioned around you before. Other times he shares his worries about Omega and her on-the-run childhood; his fears for what the future beholds. You take special care of those quiet, heartfelt moments, listening carefully and giving your thoughtfull opinion that is neither naive nor too depressing; just the right amount of truth. You must be doing something right; because Hunter keeps coming back for more.

Somewhere along the way, two months in since that day of your nightmare, he casually opens his arms wide for you –not as a hello or a goodbye, not because it has been too long since you last saw each other, just a spontaneous gesture because he wants to– and you can't help but smile and cuddle straight into his arms. He sighs, body curving slightly to drap himself closer around you; and you feel the luckiest person in the world.

You take that as a license to hug him whenever you want. Sometimes he's in the middle of a conversation with his brothers when you walk towards them and slide your arms around him, pressing softly against his side; Hunter quickly growing into it and wrapping an arm around you as well without stopping the talk. Other times it's him who does it; like when you're watching Omega play with other teens on the beach, and Hunter come's around and hugs you to him while resting his chin on your shoulder, observing her.

People in Pabu start gossipping about you; rumours spreading that you might have started dating. You almost laugh when you hear it for the first time. Yeah, Hunter and you hug a lot, now, and it's undeniable that you've grown much closer; but don't friends hug too?

You start being more aware of your own actions from there on; and conclude that maybe not like that. And maybe hugs between friends aren't supposed to make you feel this way either; the way Hunter's does.

It's like that how you realise you're falling in love with him. You've always respected and admired him so much; but your feelings for him run deeper than that.

The hugs become even more frecuent as time passes by. You start to play with his hair too; Hunter even proping his head on your lap when you're resting on your bunk to demand some. You do it each time with a small chuckle and a rush of warmth and love that makes your eyes shine. You wonder if he's able to read the differences on your reactions, now.

You gather your courage, and when one of those times he relaxes on your lap again, enjoying the soft caresses of your fingers on his hair and scalp, you bend forward to kiss his forehead. Before you do, his breath hitches; his senses detecting some kind of movement above him. When your lips finally press softly against his skin, Hunter relaxes and lets out a small content hum. His right hand travels up to close around your leg, squeezing gently; and you restart your little massage.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••��••••

You're honestly surprised with how quiet the rest of the batch has been around you; not a word of your unusual closeness with Hunter even after three months of development. Yeah, they steal glances of the two from time to time, as if expecting for something to happen; but there's no out of place comment or impatient complaint.

You're... hesitant about Hunter. About his feelings for you; sometimes so convinced they're as romantic as yours are, and other times swaying towards a strong friendship. Hunter doesn't kiss on the cheek anybody else, or cuddle with any other woman, for that matter; he's a bit reserved. But then again, he has never had a close female friend before, either; so maybe he's just curiously exploring what it means, enjoying the change. A bit of your own insecurities play their part as well. Hunter is such a striking man... And though you don't believe yourself to be unnatractive by any chance, you're not sure you're able to compete on his league. But maybe you don't have to, right? Hunter's not one of your past fleeting flings, not someone who values how you look and how many times you have sex in a week with as your main value. He's a decent person; someone who truly cares for your well-being. You snort at your following thought. Maybe that problem of your last relationship hadn't been you; you're sure you'd never lack the desire to jump in bed with Hunter. And you know he wouldn't pressure you if that weren't the case. That's the best part.

One week later, it's him who finally points out the elephant in the room. You're just entering their small apartment after watching a beautiful sunset in Pabu; deciding to make him some company while the rest of the Batch stays with Omega in the beach. He had stayed back under the need for some quiet and silence. After a whole afternoon to himself, you believe he must have had that covered.

Hunter's attention inmediatly snaps to you as soon as you walk through the open door; turning his body towards you and crossing his arms with an arching brow. He knows what's coming. It's tradition, now. You feel the inmediate need as soon as you're in front of him.

"You know... I'm one hug away from kissing you, cyare" he warns, amused little smile dancing on his lips while he gently stops your hips with his hands. "You're driving me crazy with all that physical contact, mesh'la".

You laugh. Your eyes shine up at him, insides warm and fuzzy with the raw affection he's directing towards you. His thumbs trace slow lazy circles over your hips. You love him. You have enjoyed the unhurried natural progression of your developing relationship; but you can't wait to take the next step, to finally being able to call him yours. You want to be that lucky girl you thought of once.

Oh well. If one more hug is all it takes...

You slowly stand on your tip-toes; and without taking your eyes off of him, your hands slowly skim up his arms til you're enveloping his back and shoulders in a half-hug. Your face is inches from Hunter's now. Your smile is impossibly wide and proud while you grin at him.

Hunter chuckles in amusement, quickly catching onto your logic, the silent question in your gesture; and one of his hands abandon your hips for a gentle hold on the side of your jaw.

"Love you" he mumbles, still smiling while he gives you his first ever kiss, making you giggle while you cling to his shoulders and kiss him back as well.

He deepens the kiss, demanding more of you while tigthening his grasp on your hip and pulling you closer. You make a satisfied happy noise with your throat, fingers slipping into his hair and body melting against him.

"Love you too".

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I JUST THOUGHT OF HOW GOOD A HUG FROM STRONG HANDSOME HUNTER WOULD FEEL AND THIS IS THE RESULT.

HOPE YOU'VE LIKED IT (LET ME KNOW)!

AS ALWAYS, REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APRECIATED.

REMEMBER I'M TAKING REQUESTS/PROMPTS!

Xx,

Sky.

PS. HELPPPP CAN SOMEONE PLS EXPLAIN TO ME HOW CAN I LINK MY ONE-SHOTS IN TUMBLR WITH JUST THE TITLE IN THE CUTE WAY EVERYONE DOES AND NOT LIKE I'M CURRENTLY DOING? TY!

(Back to general masterlist here)

[stars-n-spice]

Khea + TBB Doodles (Pt. 3)

Some doodles of Khea and some of Khea with the Batch :D

They are a menace to society.

They're in love your honor.

Khea + outfits. I'm not great at designing dresses ahaha-

Fun fact! Khea is near sighted and in denial about it. Her visor in her helmet is made so that she can see clearly with it on but without it, things are a little blurry for her.

I'm absolutely loving Omega's little ponytail. I think Hunter should tie his hair into one too.

They are both very cat-like people :3

Phee got them matching shirts that read "I ♡ my badass gf," because they do. A bounty hunter gf and a pirate gf, what could go wrong? It's like the start of a bad joke, as Crosshair would probably say.

💫 Read more about Khea here or here!

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Ode to Artists Pt 1

Part (1) of Ode to Artists, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Am I well past when I was supposed to finish my Bingo sheet? Yup. Am I still counting this one toward the "Bed" prompt? Also yup. I meant for this to just be a one-parter, but I just can't write those... so it'll be 2 or 3 parts of mostly (emphasis on mostly) fluff before we get into the next whump-tastic arcs I have planned. (Also, after my appointment today, the midwives say I could literally go anytime from tomorrow to 5 weeks from now, soooo if I vanish for a bit... well, you'll know why)

Warnings: This arc will mostly be fluffy stuff, but there will be references to past torture here and there. This one has some flashbacks, profanity, and loads of emotions like guilt, fear, anger, and general angst, as well some brief mention of wanting to die (not SI - with relation to ending torture), and I supposed some dependency

WC: 3,405

Rough Mando'a translation:

hut’uunla chakaaryc - coward and a rotten, low-life, (considered worst possible insult)

When we’re children and we first learn that the sky is endless, when we’re told of the countless lives beyond that stunning blue and the thousands of planets that we’ll never visit; when we’re first taught that the impossibly distant stars who’s lights danced in the darkness of night had died and been reborn long before we’d ever glimpsed them, and we discover just how small we are amidst an existence that would live on unchanged in spite of our hopes and dreams and fears, unmoved by our short lives and inevitable deaths; when we’re children and these harsh truths rob us of that innocent sense of invulnerability and infinite potential innate in the brilliance of youth, there is a wound that is dealt in the wake of that revelation regardless if the words are spoken with unapologetic honesty or gentle wonder, and those wounds may scar or they may fester, but they never fully fade.

I remembered when I learned how big the galaxy was. I didn’t feel that loss then. At the time, I’d felt inspired, enamored by the vast stretches of possibilities I’d never before considered and lightened beneath the new sense of freedom granted by those possibilities, but I felt those scars now.

Used bandages lay forgotten in small piles atop the medbay counter as my eyes stared blindly at the still pink bands encircling my wrists, fingertips just whispering over the newly knit skin. The freshly formed nerves shuddered beneath that delicate touch, unaccustomed, yet, to even gentle sensation. I hadn’t seen the damage wrought by how violently I’d thrashed against those restraints, not until after Comet had done his best to clean and sow them back together, and bacta gel had regrown most of what surely still dirtied a floor already coated with too much blood, but I could imagine it. For the scars to still shine so starkly against the unmarried flesh beside it, I didn’t doubt how near I’d come to severing tendon and exposing bone, and the simple fact that I could remember no sense of pain beyond the panic of drowning held its own morbid wonder.

It was as I stared unseeing at those scars, thoughts coming and going absent a moment’s true consideration, that I felt small. I’d never known fear could cut so deeply, that the body was capable of such terror, and yet I’d suffered beneath it for so long as the worlds around me continued in blissful ignorance. Children played as I screamed. New lovers relished the touch of another as I died. Stars were born as I begged for everything to end, and yet I now stood in the same room of the Marauder that I’d lived in for well over a year. The air still held the stale taste of too many rotations through the recyclers. The engines hummed with that same subtle rumble fading into the ambiance of the occasional beep of an alarm, and beyond the door, if I bothered to listen, I was sure I’d hear Wrecker’s boisterous voice or catch a sharp retort from Crosshair.

Even in that haze of wandering memories, my heart still leapt at the thought of him. He’d refused to let me so much as change my own bandages during the week we’d remained on the Negotiator. What arguments I’d tried to offer failed beneath the gentleness of his touch, the way his eyes hardened and his lithe body curled over mine. It didn’t feel possessive. It felt safe, and that was far too precious to refuse. Between those moments, however, I’d rarely seen him.

Only after noting his absence for several days did I learn that he kept vanishing to the training rooms, seeking anyone foolish enough or brave enough to spar and ensuring what minor injuries he sustained had been tended long before returning to my side. I wanted to talk to him about it but found myself unable to force the question past my lips, too worried that I already knew the answer to risk asking, because what could I say if he was fighting as a means of distracting himself from everything I wasn’t yet willing to speak of? If he felt driven to escape a helplessness I knew too well, a helplessness he only felt because of me? It had been something of a relief to get word of our latest assignment if only to break that routine.

With my wounds now all but healed and the lot of us en route to Alderaan, some semblance of normalcy was finally beginning to return. Friendly bickering again flowed between the brothers, free of that tension that had made my heart twist since Devaron, and no one shot away to hide the instant the medbay door opened or purposefully avoided eye contact if we were in the same room. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better. That return to normalcy, however, brought with it a quiet I wished I could appreciate, but the thoughts it granted freedom to were ones that robbed me of breath and left me staggering amidst memories I couldn’t force back.

“Doc?” My attention snapped away from those lingering scars, chest hitching in a small gasp at the suddenness with which that daze fled me. Echo stood barely a handful of steps away, brows draw lightly together above eyes full of the beginnings of worry. I hadn’t noticed the hiss of the door opening or closing, hadn’t heard whatever initial greeting he’d offered as he entered. Had he asked me something? How long had he been speaking before falling silent at the realization that I wasn’t even aware of his presence?

“Sorry, Echo; guess I got a bit lost in thought.” I said softly with a gentle smile that did little to chase the concern from his gaze. “What did you say?” He hesitated a moment, jaw tensing, and I couldn’t help but fear I’d missed something vital in whatever words he’d spoken while my mind had floated absent intent.

“Just… wondered if you’d eaten yet? Figured I’d grab you something since I was headed there anyway.” My heart sank at the offer, certain that had nothing to do with why he’d really come here, but the tentative truce between us was still too delicate to strain beneath blunt questions. I turned my attention back to the counter, using the excuse of gathering the discarded cloth to hide the threat of disappointment from my gaze.

“Probably a good idea.” I sighed despite how unappealing one of those flavorless bars sounded. “I’m finished here, anyway, so I’ll come with you.” A stranger wouldn’t have noticed the tension steal through him, the delay preceding that forced smile. A close friend wouldn’t have hesitated to address them. I noticed and said nothing, caught in the lingering uncertainty of where we stood, terrified that I might push him away again with one poorly chosen word.

“Have you reviewed the mission brief, yet?” He asked, vying for some attempt at nonchalance as we started from the medbay. I nodded, still a bit confused by it. We were making a delivery to the governing body. Given the relatively safe location of the planet, using a squad with the immaculate record Hunter and his brothers boasted made little sense. Echo let out a small chuckle at my expression, and my heart leapt at the sound.

“I think Cody sent us on this one as a bit of a break.” I didn’t fight the look of surprise that drew my attention back to him, though the darkness that followed left me turning away just as quickly. He was babying us because of me… sending us as a glorified delivery service. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful for the reprieve or enraged at how badly I needed just that: a respite from the unending horrors of this nightmare of a war.

“I don’t think he meant it as an insult.” At that, a quick huff escaped me, cheeks warming from how effortlessly he read me.

“I think he meant it as an olive branch more than anything.” I retorted, pleased to glimpse the smirk those words brought to his lips.

“Or an excuse to get Crosshair off his ship as soon as possible.” He mused, voice lowering as he leaned subtly closer to me, and I found myself biting back a string of laughter at his conspiratory tone.

I wasn’t surprised to find Wrecker in the small kitchette as we entered, a few empty wrappers already littering the table with a third already half eaten. His eyes lit up when he saw us.

“Did he tell you?!” The vibrant excitement in his voice was almost enough to make me hesitate, eyes flicking back to Echo for a moment.

“I’m going to guess not yet?” I replied, brow hitching expectantly. The arc didn’t bother even trying to explain before his brother jumped to his feet.

“They got this celebration tomorrow on Alderaan! Tech says they only do it every five years!” He purged the news in a loud, eager rush of glee that I was helpless against, lips instantly drawing up into a broad grin.

“Tomorrow? Are going to make it?” A quiet whisper of fear coiled in my chest, images of too many strange faces milling about overly pretentious floors as music danced through the air, but I refused to grant it purchase in the wake of Wrecker’s delight.

“Yup! Hunter even said we’d have the whole night to see it while the ship gets fueled up!”

“It’s outside,” Echo added softly, and I couldn’t quite meet his gaze despite how my body automatically shifted toward him, too aware of what prompted him to offer the gentle reassurance. “Up in the mountains.” Alderaan’s snowy peaks were renowned for their timeless beauty, and the knowledge that we wouldn’t be confined to some inescapable prison veiled in the guise of splendor and finery proved the perfect balm to the quickening of my heartbeat.

“We’ll have to bundle you up with a couple extra layers.” I didn’t doubt that he heard the gratitude warming my words as I finally found the strength to look at him, and the kindness in those eyes shown untainted by the distance that still haunted us.

“Pretty sure I’ll be thawing out the whole trip back regardless how many sets of blacks I put on.” He grumbled, but there was no heat to the complaint. I offered a sympathetic smile and bumped my shoulder lightly against his chest before treading further into the small room to retrieve some rations for us.

“Did Tech mention what all we might expect at this event?” I knew Wrecker would have seen through the subtleties of how Echo eased that fear from me; knew he’d likely understood the instant my gaze first turned away from him, just as I knew he understood the true reason behind my question, and I loved him for how readily he answered my unspoken plea for a distraction as he raptly described what he remembered of Tech’s earlier explanation: of the group of artists that had lived and died centuries prior, but who’s works of Alderaan’s beauty became so renowned throughout the galaxy as to alter the very fate of the planet, inspiring countless others to seek out those natural landscapes to witness that beauty for themselves. He spoke of the promise of endless venders offering unique food and drink and all manner of goods, and he drew no attention to why I sat so quietly beside him, why I failed to respond with my usual glee to his animated retelling, but he was not silent in the face of my stillness, powerful body shifting ever so subtly about mine, hand gentle in every brief touch that somehow never lasted too long, and I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but relief at his unspoken offer for a comfort that was so soft as to barely be noticeably beyond the unwavering sense of safety it granted me.

It was late. Offensively late. The medbay lay illuminated in the faint glow of a monitor I hadn’t been able to bring myself to turn off, knowing what darkness awaited me the instant I flicked that switch, what terrors lingered in the shadows vying for any excuse to strike. Crosshair had said nothing about it as he shifted atop my bed, groggily holding the blanket open with feigned impatience, but I couldn’t dismiss that flare of shame at yielding to that fear. The instant I settled into him, however, the warmth that enveloped me as he fit himself perfectly around my too tense form and let out that deep, quiet sigh of contentment robbed me of all thought beyond the feeling of his chest dancing with unhurried breaths against my back, the strength of his arms holding me with a covetous need, and I’d found myself drifting into a far kinder sleep that I had any right to hope for.

I loathed the unknown disturbance drawing me from that gentle slumber, jaw tensing beneath an attempt at denial that I might simply ignore whatever it was and slip back into that blessed nothingness. Crosshair lay perfectly limp against me, face tucked into my hair with that precious stillness of sleep. Resigned to a late-night visit to the privy, I reluctantly tried to slip away from him, laughter threatening to bubble past pursed lips at the tiny groan that escaped him as his arms tightened petulantly around me, but he showed no signs of waking as I finally managed to detangle myself from his embrace.

Footsteps as near to silent as I could manage, I tread carefully down the hall, tiptoeing past the bunkroom, though only Wrecker and Echo lay within, both far too lost to their own blissful sleep to note my movements. It wasn’t until I’d nearly reached the privy door that something on the very edge of perception left my blood running cold. I couldn’t say what it was, not yet, but my body seemed drawn toward it, wide eyes locked on the fore of the ship as my legs carried me forward despite the sudden urge to flee.

Even after some recognition began to note the sound of broken gasps amidst free-flowing water, I couldn’t bring myself to stop. There was a haunted sense of familiarity in the way I watched myself move through the ship; in the automated motions I didn’t have the presence of mind to even try to stop.

“…severe forms of torture.” There was a weight to that normally clinical voice; a dread that even he couldn’t fully suppress.

“Tech.” Hunter’s hushed voice barely registered as he turned sharply to face me, but I couldn’t focus on him. I hadn’t even noticed myself climb down the ladder into the cockpit.

“Who ordered the hit?!” I don’t remember when that man’s voice had filled with such anger.

“It’s rare for anyone to endure longer than a couple minutes… what she went through”

“Tech!” Hunter barked, finally ripping his brother’s attention from the audio clip. I didn’t see the look in his eyes as he followed Hunter’s gaze toward me.

“Just tell me who planted the kriffing bomb!”

“I don’t know!” It didn’t sound like my voice. It was enraged and terrified and ruined by hours of screaming. Hunter’s hand flared toward Tech, but he sat frozen – caught – as I approached on strides faltering beneath the tremble just beginning to steal through me.

“That’s krayt spit, and you kriffing know it! Who ordered the hit?!” Part of me wanted to be impressed at how clear the recording was, mind eager to detach from the rush of liquid that followed my every response, the way my lungs panicked and burned with the afterimage of that agony.

“Just kill me, you hut’uunla chakaaryc!” I’d heard Warthog say that once… even Wolffe had been taken aback, and only Sinker would tell me what it meant when I’d asked. That man surely had no idea what I’d called him, but the violent slap that tore from the speakers followed by the seemingly endless flood of water and desperate coughs left no uncertainty that he’d fathomed a guess.

“…Doc.” My hand was reaching out, senses dulled to all but the echoes of my nightmares screaming with such haunting clarity from the speakers, deaf to Hunter’s quiet call.

“Who was behind the attack?!”

“I don’t know!!” That voice was sobbing and screaming and so utterly broken.

My fingertips barely brushed the console before the recording stopped, but I could still hear it… the gush of water… I could feel it’s chill tear the warmth from my flesh; felt it flooding my mouth and nose… and I felt that undeniable, visceral fear of death creeping through me.

Hunter shifted hesitantly toward me, but I merely shook my head. The movement was so slight, I barely felt it, but it instantly left him frozen, shoulders sinking beneath emotions I was still far too raw to try to name.

Without a word, I stepped away from them, away from whatever apologies or questions or murmured reassurances might be festering atop their tongues, my eyes still staring blindly at the endless buttons and switches decorating the console, and when I turned away, when I began to leave in the same silence in which I’d arrived, neither could bring themselves to try calling out again.

Any other night, I would have cringed at the thought of waking him. I would have strained myself to slip back into his embrace as carefully as possible, breath held in my chest until I was sure my intrusion hadn’t robbed him of that empty sleep, but I could spare little thought toward such things. He was warm. And he was safe. And I didn’t bother to even slide beneath the blanket before pressing myself against him.

Crosshair’s torso swelled with a sharp inhale, brows drawing together with some mixture of annoyance and confusion, but then he went still. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, body curling into his as though I might hide from the memories still raging through my mind. He studied me for mere seconds before shifting in careful, unhurried movements, one arm slipping beneath me to wrap around my shoulders while he brought his other hand up to just whisper against my cheek, the unspoken question clear in that tender gesture.

Again, I felt my head give the slightest shake, unable to offer anything more. His thumb trailed the ridge of my cheekbone, touch featherlight, before letting his hand brush gently through my hair to rest against the back of my neck, holding me with just enough force for me to feel his strength, and a shuttered exhale escaped me that left us both clinging just that much harder to each other.

He didn’t speak throughout the night, but the occasional dance of his fingers or touch of his lips in something too gentle to be called a kiss reassured me that he was still awake, still holding me until that tension began to slip away. I don’t know how long we laid there, letting the minutes and hours pass in that perfect quiet, but when I finally heard the steady thrum of his heartbeat over those horrid screams, I wanted to sob. I wanted to shout beneath the disdain I felt toward myself and the apologies I didn’t have the strength to voice. I wanted to tell him that he could leave; that I wouldn’t blame him for needing to separate himself from the mess I’d become, but I couldn’t stop my grasp from tightening around his shirt at the very thought, and when he responded without hesitation, when his arms nearly crushed me against him, I abandoned even the memory of fear that he’d want me to grant him that escape.

In the morning, I’d thank him. In the morning, I’d try to offer some manner of an explanation that he was long past due, but for what few hours still remained in that façade of night that meant nothing in the emptiness of space, I let myself give in to the simple need for his presence and the quiet it granted me. I let myself be weak that I might find solace in his strength, and I let myself love him with every atom of my being for the selflessness of his comfort.

Next Chapter

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[chad-something]

BEHOLD Fic Recs!!!! 18+

Notes: I’m reposting this because it seems to have disappeared completely from my account!! After the week we’ve all had I thought I’d accumulate some of my favs 🥹🥹 I’ll make a list for fluffy fics as well! Big love.

Side note, there is no theme, the theme is chaos fuck you Filoni

Warnings: These all contain 18+ content, minors do not interact - all posts contain individual warnings.

Expensive Tastes: by @eloquentmoon - cad bane x AFAB!reader

• Good lord. Need I say more? I want this shit tattooed on my fucking eyelids.

Rough Day: by @no-droids - mando x F!reader

• Because obviously. Is it too much to call this the Bible for fanfic readers?

Tech Savvy: by @bb-8 - Tech x F!reader

• Pure, unadulterated perfection.

Can I help with that?: by @nahoney22 - Tech x F!reader

• She needs no introduction. All of Honey’s work is PERFECTION!! I’m kicking my feet and blushing thinking about it all.

Handling: by @moodymisty - Tech x F!reader

• Again, she needs no introduction. Incredible writing AND incredible sex, what more could you ask for? I just adore all of her stuff!!

Catch and Release: by @sporadicthingcollection - Cad Bane x F!reader

• This was the first fic I ever read on ao3 after somebody sent it to me and I remember with such clarity being like … wait… this shit can be GOOD good?! I feel like I’m reading a Jane Austen novel rn except it’s pure smut and about a blue space cowboy. I seriously hang off Emberly’s every word - this fic and the whole series is AMAZING

Poise Counterpoise: by @sporadicthingcollection - Tech x F!reader

• Mmm same as above but for tech. I want to inject this into my brain?!

Quick and Dirty: by @eyecandyeoz - Tech x Reader

• Everything. All of Candy’s stuff. But in light of recent events this one has been on my mind!

Multitasking: by @neon-junkie - Tech x GN!reader

• I dare you to find a fic by neonjunkie that I won’t obsess over, this is one of my personal favs

Coriolis Effect: by @uponrightful - Crosshair x reader

• FANTASTIC Crosshair series with excellent writing, pacing, and smut by uponrightful

What Boba thinks about on the throne: by @saradika - Boba x F!reader

• I’m blushing. Every. Single. Fic. Is. Perfection. (And read kinktober 2021 NEEEOOOOOOWW)

These are just some off the top of my head to help ease the pain from the finale!! I’ll be back with more soon I’m sure - and there are so many other fluffy fics I adore that I can’t wait to shout out asap

(Boarders by @saradika)

Em x

[arctrooper69]

Feels Like Durasteel

The former ARC trooper and his Jedi General grieve together.

Warnings: Season 2 finale spoilers. Discussion of death and dying. Mostly hurt with a teeny bit of comfort.

--------------------------------------------------

She couldn't breathe. Her knees hit the durasteel floor with a thud. This couldn't be happening.

No. I refuse. Not again.

The all too familiar agony of loss had lain in ambush, readying itself for her journey to consciousness - then it attacked without mercy.

"Where's Tech!?"

"....General"

It grasped at her as she ran from the room, ripping and tearing into her with it's heavy, piercing claws. It's poison burned through her veins as she stumbled up the ramp into the Marauder.

"When have we ever followed orders."

Her mind spun faster and faster, replaying that moment over and over again until it reached such a speed that she couldn't keep up but it continued regardless. It filled her ears, blurred her vision, and constricted her lungs.

I'm a Jedi. I'm a kriffing Jedi! I could've saved him. I could've done something. Anything. Why didn't I?

The weight on her chest was suffocating. She could no longer feel the clench of her teeth nor the cold bite of durasteel beneath her knees.

"General!?"

Footsteps. Muffled sounds of metal against metal; a cold hand providing no relief to burning skin.

She recognized Echo, though he was as hazy as everything else that was slowly closing in around her.

"Look at me! Breathe."

I can't.

I don't want to.

It's too heavy and I don't have the strength.

Everything she'd been through. Everything she'd lost. Everyone she'd lost. It was all too much.

"Come on, General! Breathe with me."

***

A spider spun a beautiful web across a shelf of datapads. She didn't mean to kill it, but it startled her and she crushed it. Her first introduction to death and one of her first lessons as a youngling.

There is no death, only the Force.

Accept it as a natural part of life and let go.

Mourn them do not. Miss them do not.

For the fear of loss is a path to the Dark Side.

Maybe that's why she felt this way. Maybe she wasn't Jedi enough. Maybe it was somehow her fault. Maybe she could've done more. Made different choices. Chosen different words. Maybe she wasn't the leader they made her out to be.

Maybe she was cursed.

Perhaps the Force could tell that she formed attachments too easily - that she loved too deeply, and expressed herself too passionately.

Maybe that was why they were all dead. Because of her.

Maybe she deserved the horror that was to be left alone again. That was why she couldn't breathe. She was alone.

***

"That's it. There you go. Breathe."

She kept her eyes down, not wanting to meet his pitying gaze.

They sat in silence, the only sounds drifted faintly in from the city outside.

She felt her head tip and almost unconsciously lean against the hard plastoid of his shoulder. Neither of them said a word.

"I..." She spoke, voice barely a whisper. She couldn't make the words come. But he knew what she meant.

"I know...."

There were no tears, there hadn't been yet and there probably weren't going to be for awhile. They both knew how this played out - each in their own ways with the common ground of an all consuming numbness.

It was a feeling that made it easier to keep going until one day you couldn't take it anymore. But that day wasn't today. It never was.

It was a process that she had down pact - allowing just a sliver of grief to slip out, tricking her brain into locking away everything else.

"I miss him too."

***

Echo. Fives. Tup. Hardcase. Just a few names - barely a shadow of the sea of troopers she called friend.

Vivian. Rylah. Sari. Pol. Ben. Her creche-mates. Friends. Casualties of war. Brothers and sisters that she grew up with - fought with, ate with, and trained with.

None of them had seen the end of the war.

The Jedi died as battlefield heroes - faces and names to be memorialized forever in stone. The clones died for the sake of a Republic that only saw them as faceless numbers.

The clones were born to die. Why wasn't she? Things would be a lot easier then.

But they were all gone, leaving her alone again in galaxy too big to understand.

***

"It's too much, Echo..." She could barely hear her own voice.

He didn't answer. He didn't have an answer.

Pick up the pieces, dust yourself off. Move on. That's what he'd always told himself. That's what he'd tell himself this time too. Tech would want them to move on, right? To give meaning to his sacrifice?

He probably could - he'd been trained to do so since he popped out of the tube. But no matter the training, he was, at the end of the day, still human.

Was it the same for his General?

Most likely.

Grief had a way of disregarding the chain of command.

***

She didn't know if she would consider Echo a loss. He had come back to her, but the pain she'd felt was real. He was the first real casualty of war that she could name.

Hardcase was the first clone she'd considered her friend. He was kind. He was funny. He had tricked her into luring his Captain into a paint trap. It caught Kix instead and the medbay had never seen so much color - in both paint and language.

On Umbara, his force signature went out with a bang. Loud and explosive, just like him. He wouldn't have had it any other way.

Tup was young. Fresh-faced. He'd barely worn out the shine on his armor. He didn't deserve the way he went out - an unfortunate victim of a political ploy activated too soon. His force signature had always reminded her of the quiet calm before a storm.

She never got to say goodbye to Fives. The strong, handsome ARC trooper went out doing his duty. He died doing what he thought was right. He died trying to save his brothers. His force signature was full of light. Sometimes it flashed, pulsing like the strobe lights of a club. Sometimes it shone strong and bright with a fierce determination.

And then there was Tech...

***

The former ARC trooper and his General sat silently on the cold metal floor of the Marauder - each one slowly drowning beneath the weight of the galaxy.

"Did you know," she began quietly, "that everyone has their very own force signature?"

Echo was silent. He turned to look at her, blinking in a daze as though her voice had dragged him from the depths of an impossible whirlpool. Hearing her voice made it easier to breathe. It kept his head above the water - just barely, but that was all it took to keep from drowning.

The General's lips twitched in a fleeting, sad smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, oblivious to his silent plea.

Please keep talking. I can't take the silence. I don't want to be alone.

"Even clones," she continued. "You all feel so different."

Echo leaned his head against the wall. "Oh yeah?"

She was silent and for a moment, Echo feared that she hadn't heard him. Then she spoke again.

"Tech's force signature felt a bit like durasteel."

Oh.

"What do you mean?" he shifted so that his shoulder rested against her own.

"Always strong, no matter the situation it's put in. Cold, straight edged. Sometimes sharp."

She took a shakey breath and wiped away tears she hadn't even realized she'd been crying. "But durasteel can be worked with. It's reliable. It's adaptable. With time and warmth, it can be shaped into almost any tool or mechanical part. It holds heat well, making the most bitter cold into someplace comforting. It's just...always there. Without it..."

She stuttered to a stop, afraid that if she kept going, she'd start something that she had no power to stop.

Echo felt her shaking, curling into his chest. He didn't know if she'd meant to or not but it didn't matter to him. He shifted, allowing his flesh arm to rest, wrapping around her shoulders.

She took a breath, "Without it....our ship would be in pieces. It wouldn't fly." Her voice cracked. "It wouldn't be a ship at all."

Echo was silent, once again he didn't know what to say. She was right. It did feel like that. It did feel like their squad - their family - had lost too much to continue.

"I know..." He finally said with a gravelly whisper. "I know. I won't say that we'll be ok because I don't think we will be okay for awhile." He took a breath. "But we have eachother. We have the rest of our family. We have our mission." He paused, squeezing her shoulders, "and we have an Empire to make aware that there's gonna be Hell to pay."

I'm not sure if I like this one or not... I haven't written in third person for awhile... Does third person count as x reader if there's no name mentioned? And I'm not trying to beg for attention or anything, but if you liked this, can you leave a comment please? I feel like I'm kinda losing my touch...

--------------------------------------------------

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[clonesuperiority]

I really only wanted to show my Clone OC's Tattoos, buuut who was ever hurt by shirtless Wolffe, Rex, Cody and Jesse? 👀

I'd kind of love to draw some fanarts of canon Clones ... Which ones would you like to see?

[queenofspades6]

Imagine Omega and the others escaped Tantiss’base, while the boys are trying to go save her 😭😭😭

[523rdrebel]

Chapter 1     -

Summary: AU/Canon Divergent - Set after the rescue of Crosshair, Omega, and Tech from the clutches of Dr. Hemlock. The Batch settles down on Pabu and are, for the moment, able to hide from the Empire. Crosshair, with much grumbling, is convinced to see one of the local doctors to monitor his recovery. Unfortunately for Crosshair, Dr. Isabella Ramót is a ray of sunshine and a breath of fresh air - and totally capable of handling his harsh, rough demeanor.

Rating: T, SFW

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5, Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Crosshair had scowled and huffed but his brothers had insisted that he allow the local medic to take a look at him and monitor his recovery. He was not blind, he could see the dramatic thinness his body had taken, feel the atrophied muscles that once held such strength and discipline. Stopping for frequent rests when he had to walk anywhere more than twenty feet, which left him sweating, clammy, his breathing labored. Then there were the scars, both mental and physical, from his internment and torture at the hands of the Empire. But Crosshair wasn’t ready to open that particular can of worms, preferring instead to force it deep, deep, down.

Crosshair sighed, rolled his eyes, and schooled his face into his most sinister scowl as he stepped over the threshold into the modest medical office. His critical eye scanned the room- it was neat and organized, though obviously well used, and he was surprised to see the warm touches of flowers and paintings on display instead of the harsh white, dark grays, and bright lights he’d come to associate with medical facilities.

A woman with wavy copper hair, currently worn in two tight buns on either side of her head, leaned against the counter across the room, seemingly occupied by some holo-flimsy files. She was wearing a long sleeve black shirt and golden yellow wide-legged pants.

Crosshair stood, or rather hovered, awkwardly in the entrance debating if he should run away before she notices him.

She glances up and locks eyes with him, recognition shining across her face, "Ah, Crosshair!” She pushes off from the counter and approaches him quickly, “I’m Isabella, but my friends call me Izzy." She smiles brightly, hands extended for a handshake, which he ignores. The woman, unfazed, holds both hands up in a disarming motion. It made Crosshair’s lip curl in disgust.

He scoffs, eyes making a denigrating scan of her form, "I'm not your friend." His voice is a low, dangerous rumble.

"Yet." Isabella lifts her chin up answering with a challenging smirk. He simply glares in response, but she takes his sharp attitude in stride. She shrugs, the smirk remaining,  "Well, then don't call me Izzy.” She motions for him to follow her over to the medical bed and pats it softly. He rolls his eyes but sits down regardless. Let's get this over with. She nods and regards him with a teasing glance, “Isabella is fine."

Another derisive snort, "I don’t think so... Bells." His voice is dripping with condescension, an angry venom spit at her face in defiance. Crosshair’s mocking smile falters ever so slightly as he takes in her reaction.

Her eyes twinkle and a little laugh escapes her perfect mouth, “Oh! Bells is so much better than Izzy.” She smiles brightly and begins her checks, gently grabbing his chin to direct his face then moving her handheld scanner slowly while he grumbles.

His mumble is nearly unintelligible, his already intense scowl becoming somehow more intense, “Bells is a stupid name…” Ugh, why is she kriffing smiling about it.

Bells is quick and efficient with her checks, observing his vitals, determining the level of atrophy his muscles had succumbed to, and marking down any points of concern. Her hands are gentle but firm, he watches as her face changes from that insufferably bright expression to focused and confident professionalism. He finds himself relaxing to her touch and soothed by her soft commands- then before he knows it she’s finished.

“Alright, Crosshair… I’m not going to insult your intelligence by telling you what you already know. So instead, I’ll lead with the solutions.” She holds out a datapad and nods at him to take it. “As you can see, I have developed a meal and physical therapy plan that, presuming you follow it, should help you to get back to your former strength and capabilities.”

His eyes roam over the plan with disgusted disinterest, he scoffs, “And if I don’t.”

Her eyes darken slightly, “At best you take significantly longer to recover and I annoy you for an extended amount of time,” She flashes him her most obnoxious smile, “at worst, your condition worsens and you could potentially lose functionality.”

“How about a Bacta tank then?”

She gestures widely, displaying the modest facility,  “Aside from the fact that I don’t exactly have access to that amount of medical grade bacta, let alone access to the bacta tank itself?” Her lips quirk up in an amused smirk and she shakes her head, “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. Bacta is effective for many kinds of fresh wounds and injuries, but it cannot regrow or retrain muscles. You’ll just have to do that the hard way.”

“Wonderful.”

She gestures to the datapad, “-May I continue?”

“Fine.” Crosshair grinds the word with his teeth, and fixes his glare back down at the datapad.

“Follow the meal plan and stay committed to the physical exercises, check-ups every three days for now,-"

“I didn’t take you for a sadist, Bells.” The sardonic comment slips out of its own volition, his glare widens only slightly.

“-Only when the situation calls for it.” Her response is lightning quick and her eyes sparkle but she moves on just as quickly. “Do not mistake me, Crosshair, I take my job very seriously. You are my patient, which means your recovery is my job.” She punctuates her point by pointing her finger towards him, “I assure you, I am not afraid to pester you and annoy you into following my highly informed medical recommendations.” Her face is effectively smug, “If you insist on being a problem, well– I do love a challenge.”

He couldn't resist the stubborn smirk that tugged at his lips. I’d like to see that, the thought struck him unbidden. How irritating.

“I’ve started you off with light activity to help you rebuild your body’s strength and stamina.”

Still shocked that he’d allowed her to see him break so quickly, he simply growls in response, his scowl intensifying further.

She continues, if she noticed his reaction she made no indication, “I expect you to work those physical exercises and stretches into your day, but don’t overwork yourself. Pushing yourself too hard could cause further, more permanent damage. I’ll monitor your progress-”

“Why?” His voice is low and flat.

“-I’m sorry?”

“Why– do you care?” 

“You are my patient, first of all. But you are also a person who’s been put through a lot of pain and trauma. I care because you deserve to have a chance at a life that is free of those things.”

“You think you can fix me then? You think you can make it all better?” His face is scrunched and red and snarls through his words, “Then you’re naive and childish. Stop playing games–”

But Isabella is not unfamiliar with hurts that strike and lash out, so she steels her soft heart with practiced patience. She leans back against her work desk, crossing her arms over her chest, “Ah-Do you believe that I shouldn’t care then?”

Crosshair rolls his eyes and spits out venom with his words, “Why waste your time?”

Isabella shrugs, her voice taking on a slight firmness, “I will do whatever I want with my time, waste it or not.” He scoffs and looks away but she leans forward and reaches out one hand and hovers over his which clutches the bed in a deathly grip. She hesitates, waiting to see if he will pull away. He doesn’t but his scowl darkens and she instead places her hand beside his, a little space between. “Believe it or not, Crosshair. Some people do actually help people simply to–Help.”Her words are earnest, causing Crosshair’s stomach to churn painfully.

He laughs snidely, “Shame… As a Doctor, I would’ve thought you were smarter than that.”

She startles and piques him further by laughing, “Insults won’t work on me.” She places a hand under her chin, thinking, “But I might be willing to accept bribes in the form of caf, candies, or pastries.”

Crosshair is not used to being so quickly and effectively put off balance by someone. He stares back at her in silence, brow furrowed in displeasure for letting this woman affect him. Isabella gathers a few items and hands him a small bag. “What is that?’

“Just a few things to help you out. Herbal teas, an ointment for sore muscles, and some medicinal items to help with sleep.” She sighs and rolls her eyes, “Just take it.”

He does, though reluctantly. Isabella stands back up straight and claps her hands lightly, “Alright, Crosshair, you’re free to go. I will follow up with you in three days.” She gives him a soft little wave as he leaves the medical office.He walks slowly back to the lodging that has been provided to him, his mind burdened with memories of his weakness. No wonder the Empire broke you and threw you away, all it takes is a pretty smile and you lose your nerve. His dark mood is perpetuated by further evidence of his body’s loss of strength when has to take frequent breaks, leaning against the nearest building and taking slow, deep breaths. By the time he’s made it back inside his temporary lodging, he is sweating, shaking, and breathing heavily. Kriff.

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[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Not Ready - Part Three

Summary: Making your way back to the Marauder with Hunter and Omega

A/N: Hello lovelies,

In case you didn't realize, I should probably mention this is all set in the time of Season 1 but I'm sure you guys realized that. Also had a half day today because half our patients cancelled, love days like that, got a lot of stuff done and still had an evening to relax.

Love oo.

Italics - flashback

Warnings: Angst, irritations, yelling, lack of trust, fluff, running, evading capture, forehead kiss, feelings of guilt, fear, guilt, feelings of cowardice, I think that's it. Let me know if I miss anything.

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Now that you thought about it, those moments of you yelling at him probably weren’t the most productive moments between the two of you. You reached out and grabbed Omega’s hand when she slipped, as the three of you made your way back to the Marauder as quickly as you could, “You okay, M?”

“Yeah, my foot just slipped.” You watched as her whole body twitched, she was nervous. You kneeled down in front of her, while Hunter took a chance to scout out the way ahead. 

“Look at me sweetie,” you tucked her hair behind her ear, something you’d done numerous times. She slowly met your eyes, the two of you had gotten closer ever since you joined. In a way, she was the daughter you always wished you could’ve had. She had your love and devotion, without even a second thought. All you wanted was to protect her, and make sure she was loved and cared for, you cursed your heart. It wasn’t supposed to get attached, that was the agreement you had made when you initially went on the run, it was safer for everyone. You let out a soft sigh, as you offered her a reassuring smile, “It’s going to be okay, love. I promise.”

“I know. It’s just … do you think Crosshair is okay? What if he’s hurt?”

“M, it’ll be okay. If he’s hurt, he’s got people to look out for him. It’s us we should be worried about, we still have a myriad of stormtroopers to avoid.” She nodded, not quite able to forget about Crosshair, you pressed a kiss to her forehead, “It’ll be alright.” You held out your hand to her, “Come on, sweetie.”

Hunter hated how much his eyes kept following you, it didn’t matter that half the time, you argued with each other, or that you frustrated him so much sometimes all he wanted to do was shut you up with his lips pressed against yours. However, watching you with Omega, how motherly and kind you were to her and the others, even if you couldn’t stand him, you certainly were able to get along with everyone else. Sometimes the way you acted, reminded him of a rancor, fiercely loyal and protective of those it loved, but ready to destroy anyone who even dared to hurt you or those you loved. Maybe that’s why things had always been difficult between you two? Because he put you in danger from the word ‘go’. 

He let out a sigh, whatever thoughts or desires were confusingly roaming around his heart, weren’t likely to come to fruition. You both needed to keep your distances, and focus on the one thing that mattered the most to the both of you, Omega. 

“We should keep moving” he called down to you and Omega. You nodded and helped Omega up the slope. 

You watched as Hunter held out his hand for Omega helping her along the way. Despite his faults, of which he had many … okay maybe not that many, maybe a few. Okay, one. He had one fault. He thought he was always right. And sometimes he was … but a lot of times, he wasn’t. However, there was one thing that always pulled at your heartstrings no matter how annoyed you two were at each other, and that was how he looked after Omega.

Everyone was asleep, as you sat in the cockpit. You tried to sleep, but running into the two sisters who were actively fighting the Empire, made you begin to question everything. Here they were putting themselves in jeopardy, to do something to help the galaxy. Meanwhile, all you’d ever done was hurt it, and now you were trying to actively hide from the Empire like a coward. 

You rubbed your forehead letting out a sigh, when you heard shuffling behind you. You turned to see Hunter tucking Omega in, making sure Lula was close to her. After having to run away from Wrecker when his chip activated, you weren’t surprised to see her fall asleep as quickly as she did, the stress and adrenaline from the day definitely wearing her thin. You watched as he brushed Omega’s hair off her forehead, making sure she wasn’t having trouble sleeping. You let out a sigh, why did he have to be so sweet? Why did he have to do things that made your heart flutter?

You turned away, shutting down the feelings that were trying to brew. You closed your eyes, resting your head against the headrest. You weren’t meant for a life filled with love, sweetness, and comfort. It was never in the cards for you, and you weren’t ready for how your heart kept pulling and clenching. It was time to seriously think about leaving, you were getting too comfortable and too attached. 

“You alright?”

Hunter saw how meeting the two sisters threw you, it wasn’t just them though. It was hearing Rex’s account about what happened to his brothers, the chips that were in the clones brains; then the Jedi cruiser on Bracca, or more specifically the lab on the cruiser that made you uncomfortable. Something about being in a lab made you jumpy, made you nervous, he could smell your anxiety the moment you saw the lab. 

“Hmmm?” You turned to look at Hunter, not quite hearing his question.

“Are you okay?” Hunter took a seat in the chair directly behind yours, leaning forward resting his elbows on his knees, his bandana covering the patch on the side of his head, as his eyes found yours.

“Why do you care?” You followed his movement leaning forward, resting your own elbows on your knees. You didn’t mean for your words to come out as rude as it sounded. It was a genuine question on your behalf, why would he care about you after all the hassle you gave him. 

“You’re part of this crew, of course I’m gonna care regardless of how much you irritate me,” he smirked, “and you do irritate me.” You were thrown off by the fact he cared … the fact that anyone cared.

Hunter wasn’t blind, he could see something was bothering you, ”Butterfly, I … I don’t know what’s got you so shaken, but you can talk to me.”

“You’re better off not knowing.”

“What if I want to know?” He leaned closer, his fingers gently brushing against your own, almost by accident.

“Hunter, you can’t help me, and when you do one day find out what’s going on, you may not want me around anymore, and I’ll accept that. But not today, I - I don’t want to talk about it.”

He took a deep breath, as he reached his hand forward tucking your hair behind your ear, it always seemed to be unruly, sticking out the side of your head or clinging to your cheek, “You don’t have to be so strong all the time.”

“It’s not about being strong…” you leaned away from his hand, not wanting your heart to thump any harder or hope for more than it was. You let out a sigh, “Never mind, I should go rest.” You stood walking away from him burying the warm sensation in your heart deep down. As you walked past him, he reached out and grabbed your hand, holding it softly in his hand, getting you to look at him one more time.

“We’ve all done things we might not be proud of, doesn’t mean you’re alone. We’re here for you.”

You took in a deep breath as you looked at him, giving his hand a squeeze, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

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[oceansssblue]

*barges into your askbox, breaking down the door*

may i request a jedi fem!reader x tech where they are on a mission together after some time, and they get separated from the rest of the group. she fights very well against some opponents but ends up getting just a bit bloody and hurt, mostly due to an aggressive fighting style, that of a warrior. tech notices all the new scars n stuff on her face and forearms and is worried. she insists she's fine and tries to brush it off, even though she doesnt like them and makes her less of a jedi and more of a warrior. he comforts her telling her things like your a great general and you don't have to follow the code perfectly to still be a good jedi. so basically first kiss fluff and comfort, a bit of angst.

sorry it was so long! have a great day/night

I love Tech soo muchhhh 🥹 This was a cute idea, so here it is! Hope you like it.

Next request will feature Commander Mayday I think!

Stay tunned,

Xx,

Sky.

"JEDI WARRIOR"

TBB REQUESTS —TECH/F READER

WARNINGS: Blood, scars. A sprinkle of angst but mostly fluff and comfort 📩💔💖

"I'll distract them!" your voice shouts loud and clear through the batch's coms frequency.

Tech frowns, dodging a shot and quickly neutralising the droid responsible for it.

"General..." he begins, clearly not happy with the offer, but you cut him of quickly.

"That's an order" you almost bark back to him.

You don't mean to be mean or harsh. But you're in the middle of a battle, there's lifes on danger, and though you know Tech's worried about you, you can't let that distract you. You need to distract your enemies so the Batch can get to their base; so they can get the information needed. Information that will save hundreds of lifes and will be valuable to the Republic. You know Tech will probably have a list of the things that could go wrong with you getting separated from them in his mind; but it's your choice, ultimately. If you die, so be it. You'd do it honorably.

Tech clenches his jaw.

"Yes, General".

You run away, jumping over dozens of droids and never slowing down, your orange lightsaber dancing through their lines, a blur of light in the almost darkness of the arriving night. While you atract the majority of their troops and pull them far away, the Batch advances. You hope you can hold them off til they get what you need.

Time passes, and your enemies seem to close around you. Droids are not the main problem; the natives of Garsa are, riding big felines with sharp teeth that painfully closes around your arms and legs more than once. One of the predators catches your ankle and pulls, dragging you through the dirt; and you can't help the furious, painful scream that leaves your mouth, twisting around quickly and stabbing your lightsaber through his own open mouth. The animal screeches and dies.

When you hear Hunter's voice through your coms again, half an hour later, you're on the verge of falling unconscious. You can barely fight much longer; energy drained even with your extensive Jedi training. You feel blood all over you, mixing with the dirt of the ground you've been rolling in. It tingles painfully, all the open wounds on your body; specially the deep scratches on your face, that tugs with every facial expression and movement.

You must be quite the sight, because when the Batch comes near you, Tech suddenly halts upon seeing you. A second later, they're all standing around you, helping you to get rid of the last enemies and giving you cover while you start your hurried way back to the Marauder.

Once you're safely flying away on the ship, you collapse down onto the floor. Wrecker grabs you before you can really slam down onto it; lowering you gently. Your mind feels dizzy with exhaustion; and you've almost fallen asleep in place when Tech kneels besides you, route already established and on automatic pilot.

His fingers carefully brush your hair away; chocolate brown eyes studying you worriedly.

"Let's get you cleaned up and fixed, General" he whispers, putting your arm over his shoulders and tugging you up to a stand with him.

You grunt in pain and lean most of your weight against him.

"Don't know if I can stay up and conscious through a shower" you mumble tiredly.

Tech starts a slow, careful walk towards the bathroom. The rest of the Batch scatters throughout the ship, tending to their own wounds and exhaustion.

"That is okay" Tech answers, unbothered. "You could stay with your underware on and I could assist you with that, if you would be comfortable with such situation".

You glance at him and inevitably smile. His cheeks are slightly flushed, though he's trying to keep his voice and posture as professional as possible. You know it's a weird situation, and he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.

Maybe you would be with Hunter or Wrecker or Cross. But you've always felt safe and at ease with Tech specially; and it would be just one soldier helping another. Of sorts.

" 'M okay with that" you give him your permission, and Tech nods quietly.

Once in the bathroom, you hold yourself with a hand against the wall and slowly pull your clothes of. Tech intently stares down at the floor; only risking a quick glance upwards when you let out a small whimper of pain. Your pant's are abandoned on the floor; but your bloody shirt is stuck to a wound on your stomach, and just touching the material of the shirt makes your wound burn.

"Let me" Tech asks, gently, and you push your hands over your head, staying as still as possible while he carefully separates the shirt from your skin and pulls it off of your body.

You sigh in relief and thank him before wobbling into the shower. Tech's hand stabilises you; and he makes sure to catch you whenever you stumble a bit too much for his comfort. You get rid of the dirt and blood, being specially carefull with your injuries; and then gently dry your skin with a towel.

Tech takes a step back –dropplets of water running down his still in place armour–, eyes glancing down at the floor again. You smile with his consideration of your privacy; though the smile dissapears from your face when you take a look at the small mirror in front of you.

The wounds are deep, and they will scar. One crosses over your nose, another cuts vertically through your left eyebrow, and two other big ones slashes your right cheek. Smaller ones go over your lip, though you think those will heal nicely. You open your towel and glance down, analysing. There's more across your body. You...

"Don't look like a jedi" you unconsciously mumble out loud. "More like a warrior".

Tech's eyes meet yours through the reflection of the mirror. He frowns, and you fake a smile while you pull yourself out of your thoughts. You hide under the towel.

"I'm fine".

It's obviously a lie; and Tech has always been intelligent.

His hands hesitantly land on your shoulders; thumbs caressing slowly.

"You're a great general" he tells you, gentle. "This was a suicide mission, and yet we all made it out fairly well, considering the circumstances. You don't have to follow the code perfectly to be a good Jedi. Jedi's use the Force to help people, to bring peace to the galaxy. Isn't that what you do everyday?"

His words make your heart ache. Your eyes fill with tears.

Yeah, you do. Maybe he's right. Maybe you don't have to follow the code literally step by step. Maybe what you're doing is enough. You're only human, after all.

Maybe...

You turn towards Tech. He's tall, and handsome, and polite and gentle, intelligent and caring. You've always liked him. Always felt something towards him, even if you've tried to burry it inside your soul.

Maybe... Your hands tremble as they make their way up to his face; carefully cupping his cheeks. Tech blushes, but he doesn't glance or move away. He's still, breathing heavier, eyes fixed on yours, waiting expectantly. His hands slowly travel down your back to your hips; his back curves down to close the distance between your lips.

You cling to his shoulders, stand on your tiptoes, and kiss him. Your eyes close with a relieved sigh, and you can feel him first tensing, then relaxing, into the kiss too. His lips are soft and his movements meassured and gentle; kissing you like you're the most important thing in the galaxy. You feel warm and safe. Excited and in peace at the same time.

When you separate in order to breathe, he caresses your cheek in wonder and presses his forehead against yours with a happy sigh.

Yeah. Maybe it is okay.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Yoooo I'm on fire everybody! Writing nonestop requests for yall!

Still got a few to go (another Tech, Mayday, Wolffe, Hunter, some non romantic ones...). Be patient, I will get there.

Think this one turned out well.

Stay tunned!

Sky.

Back to my general masterlist here:

[wild-karrde]

Guarded - Part 3

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A/N: NEW CHAPTER REWRITE ALERT! This was honestly one of the chapters I was most excited to rewrite, and I hope you all love it as much as I did. As always, thank you to the wonderful @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this for me!

Chapter Rating: G

Warnings: none

Word Count: 4.8k words

It was late, and as usual, Tech wasn’t sleeping. Hunching over several datapads at the table in the main sitting room of the suite they shared, he rubbed his temples as he pored over the information Captain Typho had provided him. He was certain to pass out when exhaustion overcame him, either in the chair he was sitting in, or perhaps he’d be lucky enough to make it back to the bedroom he was sharing with Echo. He was surprised to hear his brother’s snores already from down the hall. 

He rarely sleeps, so at least there’s that.

Sleep was never something that came easily to Tech either, not with the way his mind constantly turned, poking and prodding at information and cataloging it for later use. It was rather fortuitous that he’d proved capable of functioning on less sleep than most, and he often took advantage of the late hours to spend time alone with his thoughts. 

The others had closed their doors, which had done little to muffle Wrecker’s grunts and louder snores as he tossed and turned. He’d wound up in a room by himself with Tech and Echo sharing and Hunter and Crosshair bunking together in the last remaining room. The tension between the sergeant and the sniper was still thick enough to cut with a vibroblade, but Tech was hopeful that perhaps the forced proximity would help lessen the strain between them. 

Perhaps they’ll even have a fruitful conversation at some point. 

He didn’t always necessarily express himself in the same ways as his brothers, but he knew he really had no right to be critical of anyone’s interactions with Crosshair. After everything that had happened, he could barely look his brother in the eye.

I missed it. I just assumed he was correct when he stated his chip was gone. I should have known. I should have noted the differences in his behavior, the headaches. 

I just missed it.

The guilt wracked him nearly every second he was around Crosshair, and it had made his interactions with him difficult, so he’d limited them. He knew if they were to effectively function as a team again, it was something he would have to overcome. That seemed to be the biggest challenge for him at the moment, but one that could not take priority over the mission they’d been tasked with. 

Tech had been going over the security system for the palace, memorizing protocols and trying to get an idea of where vulnerabilities existed. He still wasn’t sure why they were needed here, but he was determined to do his best to help anyway. The work made him feel useful in a galaxy that had seemingly decided he and his brothers had outlived their utility. He understood the move to decommission the clone army from a practical standpoint, but it didn’t make him less resentful of the treatment of his brothers, both what he had observed with his own eyes and what was still just rumors. He just hid that resentment far better than most, deeming it an unhelpful feeling in the long run when there was so much more to be done, including helping the brothers the Empire had abandoned. And people like Queen Nodala and Captain Typho, whether that help was desired or not.

He leaned back in his chair, rubbing the indentations on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose left by his goggles as he sighed deeply. 

By all accounts, the system is sound. The only vulnerabilities lie in the human factors. Logs. Timeliness on rotations. And only so much can be done about that. 

A quiet, nearly imperceptible sound in the hallway made Tech turn his head just in time to see a shadow pass under the door. It could have been anyone walking by in the night, but something about how quiet it was, clearly intended to not draw attention, piqued his curiosity. Quickly, he slipped his boots back on and slid his blaster into its holster before quietly opening their door and stepping out into the corridor. 

The only sound was the echoing of his bootheels on the marble flooring as he pursued the shadow as quickly as he could without drawing attention. Stealth had never necessarily been his strongest skill, and he felt especially exposed, striding through the seemingly inescapable moonlight that poured in through the large windows. 

At least Wrecker’s not with me. He is physically incapable of sneaking up on anything.

Suddenly, Tech rounded a corner and was in the open air, a railing stretching out before him that looked out over the private palace gardens. Somewhere, a waterfall gurgled and the leaves of the trees whispered together in the cool night breeze. He shivered slightly before noticing he wasn’t alone. 

A woman leaned against the railing, her long dark hair hanging down her back in waves. She wore an emerald green robe and matching slippers, a cream colored nightgown peeking out from underneath. Her elbows rested on the stone railing, and she had her eyes closed as if savoring the breeze that tugged gently at her hair. 

Tech froze, watching her carefully for a moment before ultimately deciding she wasn’t a threat. Judging by the fact that no one else was around, he knew she was the shadow he’d been chasing, although he couldn’t understand the need for her to be sneaking around. Particularly since she presumably had permission to be anywhere in it at any time. 

Cautiously, he approached. As Tech’s footsteps grew closer, the woman turned to look at him, green irises piercing him in the dark. He’d clearly surprised her, but she recovered quickly, smiling disarmingly. 

“Good evening, Tech.” 

“M’lady.”

Her smile flickered almost imperceptibly. “You don’t have to use formal honorifics for handmaidens.”

Pushing his goggles up, Tech tilted his head to look at her. He wasn’t sure if this was a test or just a ruse, but he decided to place his cards on the table. Honesty had always been his default method of engagement, even sometimes to a fault. 

“Yes, but you’re no handmaiden,” he countered.

Her eyes narrowed and an amused smirk at her lips. “What makes you so sure?”

Tech moved to stand next to her, lowering his voice slightly. “Were all of the queen’s handmaidens present when we were introduced today?”

She thought for a moment, trying to determine where he was going with this. “Yes. We were all there.”

Tech nodded, watching her carefully. 

“Alright. There were six handmaidens in the room. It was hard to see all of their eye colors, but one I did see definitely had brown eyes, very different from the queen’s eyes, which are green like yours. Another had a scar through her eyebrow, nothing terribly obvious, but enough to where she has a gap in the hair that grows there, which you don’t have. The two that were flanking the door we entered from were several centimeters shorter than you, a subtle difference, but one I noted. And of the last two, one had hair of a similar color to yours, but it was straighter, so unless you curl your hair specifically to sleep in, that rules you out, and the other has a widow’s peak, a genetic trait that you do not share.”

Her eyes were wide, but he shook his head. “These are all subtle things that could easily be covered one way or another should they be decoying for you, so I wouldn’t be too concerned. I just notice more things than most people. But yes, by process of elimination, you are Queen Kestia Nodala of Naboo…m’lady.”

She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “Very impressive. Although I’m not sure whether to let you talk to my Captain of the Guard or not seeing as he’s already very paranoid about my safety.”

“You are on the bad side of someone willing to send assassins to kill you. I would consider that cause to worry,” he replied.

The queen pushed some of her hair behind her ear. “I apologize for the subterfuge. I’m just not normally recognized outside of my regalia, and most don’t see me like this anyway. It always feels like armor, so to speak. People respect me more, but also, coming upon someone I don’t know well without it on feels…” her voice trailed off. 

“Vulnerable?” he offered. 

She huffed a laugh. “Exactly. It was a reflex of sorts, if I’m honest.”

He nodded. “That is understandable, particularly since we only met this afternoon. But I would argue that you are, in fact, quite vulnerable without a security escort.” 

The queen nodded, a quiet sigh escaping her. “I just needed to get some air. Alone.” 

“I apologize for disturbing you then. Good night, m’lady.” Tech turned on his heel to leave. 

“Wait,” the queen said quietly. 

Tech turned to look at her, and something in his chest fluttered as her eyes met his. He straightened his stance reflexively. It felt as though she was appraising him, weighing something in her mind. Her eyes were kind though, and he felt his face warm under her gaze. She watched him as he stood stiffly for a few more moments, hands clasped behind him. Finally, she seemed to come to some sort of decision. 

“Would you care to walk with me, Tech? I’m having trouble sleeping, and I find the gardens help calm my mind. And,” she said, grinning mischievously. “It would be irresponsible for me to be out here alone at night without some sort of security escort.”

Tech dipped his head. “Certainly, m’lady.”

“So there’d be no reason to tell Captain Typho you found me out here then. Right?”

“I suppose not, m’lady.”

She nodded, striding towards the stairs before pausing, glancing back over her shoulder at him. “Oh, and Tech.”

“Yes?” he asked, pausing.

“We’re going to spend an awful lot of time together for the foreseeable future as you and your squad have been assigned as my personal security. When it’s just the two of us, please call me ‘Kestia’ or ‘Kes’.”

The lack of formality jarred him, but he nodded quietly as he followed her down the walkway to a set of stairs that led into the greenery. Her hands were clasped in front of her as she stepped onto a carved stone path, her robe and nightgown whispering around her ankles while his bootheels clicked against the pavement. They walked quietly for a while, Tech trying to determine the correct distance to follow, and ultimately finding Kestia matching his stride. He wasn’t certain if she was being intentional, but he surrendered after a few experimental pace changes, falling into step next to the queen. 

If Kestia noticed his experimental prodding, she didn’t comment. She strode through the garden, and while she seemed relaxed, Tech could tell her mind was racing as she paused at certain features, breathing in the scent of various flowers or allowing her fingers to trail through leaves on a willow tree that hung over them. He’d experienced plenty of nights like this where his thoughts kept slumber at bay, but while he normally immersed himself in datapads, he could tell this was Kestia’s equivalent, her best way of working through a problem. 

“If I may, what’s keeping you up at this hour, Tech?” the queen asked, finally breaking the silence as they followed the path along the trickling brook that wove throughout the garden.

He turned to look at her, meeting her eyes in the moonlight, glittering at him like precious gems. There was a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her lips, but her interest seemed genuine, not manufactured out of some sense of social propriety. He took a deep breath. 

“Several things actually.”

She nodded. “Well, would you like to talk through them with me?”

He stared at her with a puzzled expression. She shrugged. 

“I find it helps me sometimes.” 

She seated herself on a stone bench as he stood in front of her, eyes trained on him like a pupil awaiting a lecture.

Nodding, Tech pushed his goggles further up his nose, trying to ignore the nagging fear that he’d bore her. 

“I’m trying to determine the best way to increase our fuel efficiency on our gunship. It seems as though we’ve been running hotter than normal, and while I’ve run the usual set of diagnostics, I cannot seem to discover which part is faulty and causing the ship to consume fuel at a faster rate.”

She stared at him intently for a moment. “May I ask a potentially stupid question?”

He smiled slightly. “There are no stupid questions, m’lady. In my experience, those keep you from making stupid mistakes, which are more costly.”

“You’re still calling me ‘m’lady’.”

“A habit I shall endeavor to break. In the meantime, what is your question?”

“You’re operating under the assumption that it’s some part beyond the fuel system that’s misbehaving, causing the fuel pump to provide more fuel than would normally be required, correct?”

“That is the most logical conclusion, yes.”

“Have you considered that perhaps the fuel pump itself is faulty? Maybe there’s nothing driving a higher fuel consumption, but perhaps the pump itself is doling out excess. Or perhaps there’s something in the ship’s programming that’s making the pump think it needs to provide more than what is required.”

Tech’s mind was suddenly so busy, turning over her suggestion, he didn’t notice the queen’s surprised expression as he sat down abruptly next to her, nor her amused smile as his leg began bouncing energetically as he examined the feasibility of her line of thinking.

“That is not a thing I had previously considered,” he conceded, internally chiding himself. “It’s certainly plausible. I’ll have to check.” 

She smiled, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Sometimes I find it’s easy to go down the path that is the most logical solution and get stuck there. Glad I could help. What else is on your mind? Perhaps I can help solve all of your problems.”

Tech nodded, missing the joke completely as he ticked down his list. 

“I’m working on a new design for a cybernetic limb for Echo. He’d like to have the use of a hand while also maintaining his slicing capabilities. I’ve been attempting to come up with a housing that will be able to tap into his neural system the same way his current appendage does while also maintaining his scomp link within the wrist.”

“Ah, I’m afraid I cannot help you there,” Kestia said quietly, folding her hands in her lap. “Cybernetics are well outside of my area of expertise, and judging by Echo’s neural equipment that’s visible on his head, I have to imagine his is quite complex.”

“You would be correct, but I think there’s an elegant solution. I just have to tweak a few elements of the design concept I’m working on to ensure he’s comfortable with it.”

She hummed in reply, but Tech’s brow did not unfurrow. Kestia noticed.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” she pressed. 

Tech felt his cheeks warm once more as he swallowed hard. He wasn’t used to having someone read him so easily so quickly, to seemingly understand him. His brothers did of course, but they’d spent the vast majority of their lives training together. Understanding one another without verbal communication was a necessity for effectiveness. And survival. 

She’s a politician. Being able to read a room and those in it makes her successful. Of course she’d be able to notice things such as personal traits. She wouldn’t have been elected queen by such an overwhelming margin if she did not have such a skillset. 

It did little to calm the sudden flutter in his stomach. He stood, taking several paces to put some space between them before turning back to face her, his hand stroking his chin as he thought.

“Yes there is another thing. But I fear it is somewhat forward and perhaps could be construed as rude.”

She tipped her head back and laughed, a reaction far from what Tech had expected. But at this point, he was starting to understand that the queen defied any and all expectations he had previously assumed. 

“Well, it’s about time someone was rude to me,” Kestia joked. “Everyone defers to me constantly, so I welcome your forward thoughts and potential rudeness.”

Her mirth did little to decrease Tech’s discomfort, but her eyes were boring into him where he stood, and after quickly weighing the options, he decided candor would once again be the best approach. He unconsciously started pacing in front of her while she watched from her seat, her hands still clasped in her lap as she leaned forward, seemingly eager to hear Tech’s thoughts.

“Very well,” Tech replied, taking a deep breath. “I…I struggle to understand why we are needed here. You have a quite capable security force from what I’ve seen, so why recruit a secret fugitive clone team that the Empire is very interested in catching? What added value do we bring?”

She smirked, flicking something off of her robe’s fabric. “Honestly, I find your presence here equally troubling, but I was very much overruled by Captain Typho and several of my advisors and confidantes, including a certain senator that I know colluded with Typho to send you here. I would rather have handled this internally and on my own, but even the Naboo guard has limits. I’m sure you’ve noticed we don’t exactly have a strong military presence, so it’s not as though I could have some strong show of force to get my enemy to back down.”

Tech nodded. He had researched the planet and its culture and was well aware of Naboo’s hesitancy to militarize, even after the Trade Federation invasion that had occurred during Queen Amidala’s rule. 

“Do you even know who the enemy is?” he asked. 

“I do. But I doubt you’ll believe me.” Her expression was a neutral mask, completely unreadable to him. It frustrated him, especially when combined with her conversational obfuscation.

“I’d be more likely to believe you if you were candid with me about everything, including the reason why your life is in danger,” he retorted, trying to keep his mild annoyance from poking through his facade. 

“Iden told you-“

“Resources. Yes, but you and I both know that a simple mining dispute doesn’t put the life of a planet’s elected monarch at risk.”

She eyed him carefully, clearly considering her options. Tech did his best not to cross his arms, fearing he’d portray hostility and send her retreating into the palace. Finally, she sighed. 

“Will you tell the others?”

Tech nodded. 

“It would be helpful if we understood our current situation better. Vague details make it harder for us to prepare and formulate any contingency plans. I cannot hide information from my brothers that will help keep them safe. And you.”

Something shifted within her as he watched. She looked away, still contemplating, but he could see her jaw set in a hard, determined line. Her shoulders relaxed slightly as she dipped her head, appearing to come to a decision.

“Alright, I will trust you with this. My captain was hesitant because he is very fearful for my safety.”

“Understandable considering what happened to the last Naboo leader he was charged with protecting.”

“That wasn’t his fault. He-“

Tech cut her off gently. “I know it wasn’t. I am merely saying I understand his determination to protect you. He obviously cares very deeply for you.”

She smiled a little, her gaze drifting to a slightly more distant point. “Gregar and I were close as children. He’s always been protective, but sometimes I feel that Padmé Amidala’s death has made that part of him even more fearful.”

Tech nodded in understanding. Kestia’s eyes fell to her lap as she nervously picked at her thumbnail.

“A few months ago, I was informed that one of our mining survey droids detected a massive deposit of Bandorium in one of our lakes. The droid had malfunctioned and wasn’t even supposed to be in that area.”

Tech tilted his head. “Bandorium? I thought that metal only existed on Bandomeer.”

“Until this point, it did. Naboo would be the first place that it’s been discovered outside of Bandomeer.”

“Its use in cloaking technology and its rarity makes it incredibly valuable,” Tech recited, recalling one of the many articles he’d read on intergalactic mining during his time as a cadet.

“Indeed, which is why I had the droid’s memory wiped.”

Tech’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m afraid I do not understand.”

She nodded, still picking at her thumb before finally meeting his eyes. 

“That metal is incredibly valuable to the Empire. They’ve pillaged worlds for far less. This deposit was found near Gunga City, the Gungan capital. In order to mine the deposit, the city would have to be destroyed and the population displaced. In addition, there are numerous Gungan holy sites within the vicinity that would almost certainly be destroyed.”

She stood, pacing in the grass as Tech had been a few moments before. Tech watched her quietly. 

“I had the droid’s memory wiped because I did not want the Empire to get word of this discovery,” she continued. “We classified the information and limited any distribution, compartmentalizing where we could, but some of the information still got back to the Empire. Not the location, only I have that information. However, even just the rumored discovery was enough to inspire the Empire to try and coerce me into revealing the location. But I’ve seen how Imperial mining operations plunder worlds. I know that they’d consider the Gungans collateral.” 

She stopped, turning to look at him, her eyes pleading for some sort of tacit approval, validation that she’d done the right thing. It struck him as odd, particularly from someone that seemed as set in her convictions as Kestia did. 

“When I ran for this office and took my oaths, I swore to protect Naboo and its people, all of its people,” she said so quietly it was almost a whisper. “So I cannot allow that to happen.”

Tech nodded, contemplating the information. Kestia resumed her pacing. 

“Unfortunately, I have made my distrust and distaste of the Empire fairly well known. I stand up against them, and they certainly don’t care for it. Moff Panaka has continued to offer his very unwanted advice about how I should disclose the location and allow the Empire to mine what is required, how it will strengthen Naboo and its place in the Empire, as if I would sacrifice my planet and its people to curry favor with those that are only hungry for power and subjugation.”

Her voice was angrier now, and a vein in her temple throbbed as her pace quickened. Tech was taken aback slightly at the aggression and passion coming from the monarch that had been so subdued when they first met. She suddenly seemed to remember herself, pausing her rapid steps to look at him, a flush spreading across her cheeks as she sheepishly tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “I apologize.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I am happy to listen if that is what you require.”

Kestia dipped her head gratefully. 

“Anyway, there have been…threats made. Moff Panaka has repeatedly warned me that if I did not comply, there was a chance the Empire would intervene and elect a new monarch that would be more sympathetic to their cause, someone that would allow them to occupy. What they don’t realize is that I’ve destroyed all records of the location. The person that made the report directly to me has since died quite suddenly. I suspect foul play, but seeing as the threats and assassins haven’t stopped coming, I can only assume they didn’t get the information they needed. Information that only exists in my mind.” She paused, looking at him. “And now, yours.”

The revelation was shocking to Tech, and he let out a sharp exhale. He’d never been one to garner or pursue the trust of others, and yet, Kestia had entrusted him with this information after only a few hours. Information that the Empire was apparently willing to kill for. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his expression neutral. He’d have to examine how he felt about this later. For now, it felt important to keep Kestia talking, to glean as much helpful information as he could front his very sudden and unexpected rapport. 

“You believe the Empire is attempting to have you killed in the hopes that the next monarch will access the information and reveal it.” It was intended to be a question, but it came out as more of an accusatory statement than intended. 

Kes shrank back slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. She did not waver, but he could feel her appraising him again, trying to determine if she had misjudged him, if he would take her seriously. 

“I do,” she said firmly. “They can’t risk an outright invasion and have the Empire’s name attached to my death, at least not yet, so they hire assassins like the one that recently visited my quarters.” The evening was warm, but Tech saw her shudder slightly at the memory. “I do not believe the Empire will risk an all-out war with Naboo yet to subdue me and my people.” She noted the twitch of his lips. “You disagree?”

He sighed. “A while ago, yes, I might have disagreed with you. Now, I’m not certain. The Empire has grown more dangerous as it’s become more powerful. More bold.”

She relaxed slightly, seemingly relieved that he at least didn’t completely discount her theory. 

“Why not just remove you from office?” he asked after a few moments. “That seems the more politically savvy route. Attacking Naboo’s elected leader is a blatant attack on the planet’s sovereignty.”

“They cannot do it without support from our politicians here, and most of them are against occupation as well. I have plenty of support on my planet. The only way for me to be immediately removed would be…well, to kill me.”

Tech nodded. As conspiratorial and far-fetched as it sounded, he couldn’t deny her reasoning as the pieces fell into place in his mind. If the Empire could keep its name from being tangled with the assassin and pin it on some disgruntled political fanatic, then they could easily slip their own pawn into place while simultaneously tying the hands of any objectors. At best, anyone that made accusations would look like raging conspiracy theorists, and their political careers would crumble. At worst, the Empire would claim treason, and they’d never be heard from again. He sighed, scrubbing his fingers under the rims of his goggles again. 

“So, now you know,” Kestia said slowly. “Do you believe me?”

Tech sighed, meeting her eyes. “I believe they will continue to try and remove you, but ultimately, if they do not succeed, I do not doubt they will try to make an example out of you and your people, one way or another.”

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, and she quickly turned her back to him, wrapping her arms around herself as she stared out across the gardens. Tech slowly moved to stand next to her, studying her features as she thought. He was suddenly struck by how terrifyingly beautiful she was, and how much he found her determination admirable, even if he feared it was against insurmountable odds.

“They can try, but I will not yield,” she said quietly.

Tech hesitated before gently placing a hand on her arm. It felt like the correct thing to do, even though the action seemed to surprise them both. But she did not pull away, instead meeting his eyes. 

“And that is why you need us,” he said softly. “To support you in this endeavor should the Empire ramp up its efforts.”

She watched him carefully, and Tech felt his stomach flip slightly under her gaze. She was somehow even more imposing when she was out of her regalia, a normal woman in every aspect of her appearance. And yet, here he was, trying to remain steady as she pinned him down with her emerald irises. After a few moments, she tossed him another grin that almost felt flippant after the conversation they’d had. He suspected it was meant to put him more at ease than anything, and he was once again struck by how naturally she deployed the tools of a politician. It should have unnerved him but it didn’t. At all. 

Another thing to be examined at a different time. 

For now, he felt content to just exist in this moment rather than planning six steps ahead, a feeling he was unfamiliar with. It felt pleasant as he took in the sounds of the garden, the feel of the breeze on his cheeks and in his curls, and the smile on Kestia’s face.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” the queen of Naboo said, a teasing glimmer in her eye. “I would rather you have wasted your time when this is all said and done.”

He gave her arm a slight squeeze, returning her smile. “As do I. Kestia.”

Tag List: @redheadgirl @witchklng @djarrex @arctrooper69 @sleepingsun501 @ladytano420 @echos-girlfriend @zoeykallus @leftealeaf @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @ariadnes-red-thread @goblininawig @merkitty49 @fives-lover @ladykatakuri @runforrestr @baba-fett @daimyosprincess @obihiddlenox @bucketbunny99 @fordo-kixed-rex @nerd-ika @amish---paradise @arctrooperechy

[stars-n-spice]

Silly Squad Alignment Charts

Because I thought it would be fun and silly :)

Find out more about the Silly Squad here!

Of course, have to start with the classic:

Hunter will say they have food at home and it's literally like probably two slices of bread, a bottle of ketchup, and a head of lettuce

Viram KNOWS how to cook so you best be happy to eat her food instead of having Mcdonalds

Khea and Echo it depends on their mood whether they pull up and order a single black coffee before leaving (Echo would never do it if Omega is in the car)

Crosshair doesn't even like their coffee but he does it to be a little shit

Feel like Tech is also kinda in the middle because he'll be like "Technically we have food at home-" but he also needs his caffeine

Phee will ALWAYS pull up to the Mcdonalds, especially when Omega's with her. Then Omega always holds it over Hunter- "Well, PHEE takes ME to Mcdonalds!"

Tay is the definition of a bastard (no seriously)

Phee is bastard (affectionate) but would technically be more of "Badass" than anything

Khea, Crosshair, and Tech are the Bitch Trio and if you put them in a room together they WILL tear each other apart (emotionally most likely but Tech will goad Crosshair and Khea into physically fighting each other while he records)

Majority of the squad is Babey though

Echo is also "Bad Ass" but he could also be a Bitch if he wanted

Hunter is Bastard just because I think it's funny

Dumb Bitch Hunter my beloved <3

Echo is sad dick because he has no dick

I use dumb affectionately with Wrecker (not with Hunter and Tay)

Tech just has big dick energy to me idk

Khea's a sad hoe but she'll never admit to it (the being sad part)

If you've noticed, I really like making fun of Hunter that's why he's there in the dumbass squared category

Wrecker, Khea, and Phee are all smart as fuck but have more fun pretending that they aren't really

Tay is good at pretending that he is smart - he is not

Then of course, Tech, Cross, and Echo are all smartasses

This fit so perfectly I was dying

Hunter is laughing nervously because he's aroace lmao

Omega would be like "Thanks! :D" and just carry on

Jung would most likely do *thumbs up* instead of finger guns though

When you pair up the couples, it's funnier

If Tay said "I know" after Cross told him that he loved him, Crosshair would dump him on the spot

Khea tells Wrecker she loves him for the first time and he short circuits and probably would say something along the lines of "YEET!"

Viram and Echo both have issues and would not be able to comprehend why someone would love them - I'm sure Echo's got insecurities and Viram knows she's a workaholic and therefore difficult to be in a relationship so she apologies in advance

If Phee told Tech she loved him and he went "a horrible decision, really" she'd probably laugh

And of course, who doesn't love Phee? If you don't, get out of here.

Crosshair could care less, he ain't dealing with that shit

Tech would say this ominously as if he's seen the future and knows your death is imminent meanwhile Khea's is more of a - "you probably will because everyone close to me has already died" sort of way :/

I feel like Omega might also be "i'd die for you first" too

Hunter, Viram, and Echo don't want to deal with that shit either, they've already got so much loss, guilt, and other things on their plate

Tay's probably not listening when someone tells him they'd die for him while Phee's like, "Oh, neat. Anyways, as I was saying about my last adventure-"

Jung is ready and willing to put his life on the line and Wrecker would probably more like a "Nu uh" because he's got your back and would look out for you

Phee will also do it for some credits or a cool treasure

Tay is going to fight god (and he's going to lose)

Tech could do so much more than take down the government, but he needs incentives (him and Phee can take down the government together <3)

Khea is a bounty hunter, her job literally requires her to stab people sometimes in order for her to get money

Crosshair would stab without anyone needing to ask him

Echo's taking down the government no matter what, but especially if Rex asks him to come along

Jung is going to fight god if you ask them to (and he'll win)

Viram is the type of friend who is an excellent tutor and you end up understanding the concept after getting her help meanwhile Omega will explain what she knows and then the homework becomes a group project of figuring out what the fuck it's asking

You can copy Hunter's homework but there is no guarantee that the answers are right (most of them are wrong)

You can copy Jung's homework and there's a high chance the answers are right

Khea had better things to do than homework - like get frustrated over it and cry for a bit before giving up on it

Phee did some of the homework but she'll only help you out if you give her something in exchange

Wrecker and Tay, beloved himbos, they had no idea and even if they did do the homework, you wouldn't want to copy off of them

Crosshair also didn't do the homework but he also doesn't want to respond

Tech and Echo both did the homework and it's correct but they don't tolerate copying work to even have suggested it is offensive so now you're left on read