#Soft Hunter

[crosshairlovebot]

i've got you / hunter x gn!reader

pairing: hunter x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has endearments.

description: hunter finds you unwell, so he tries his best to take care of you.

word count: 1,779

warnings: references to illness (fever, headache, coughing, sneezing, lethargy). but otherwise, it's soft hunter at his softest.

been writing much hunter lately! i'm not complaining! (but i will try and get some crosshair out next week) i wrote this super quick for a twitter mutual <3 but i hope this brings comfort to anyone who's reading and sick. you deserve an attentive hunter looking after you.

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated.

Hunter knew something wasn’t right as soon as he walked into the Marauder. He’d come back after leaving the rest of the squad at 79’s, deciding he wasn’t in the mood to go out, especially when you’d decided to stay back on the ship, citing a headache. He’d initially offered to stay back with you, but you’d waved him off, insisting he go out with his brothers since they rarely got time off and you’d hate it if he used that time to sit around with you on the ship.

“I’m just going to lay in bed and maybe fall asleep early. I’m feeling a little tired anyway. Very boring stuff. Go have fun, Hunter. You need it,” you had told him as you came out of the fresher, face washed and in the comfiest clothes you had – baggy pants and short-sleeved shirt that you’d stolen from one of Wrecker’s old civvie disguises.

He’d been apprehensive but had left with his brothers anyway, telling you to comm him if you needed anything.

It had barely been an hour when he’d told Crosshair he was leaving, and to keep an eye on the others. Not only was the club loud and overcrowded, but he also just wanted to be with you.

But when he stepped onto the Marauder, something felt off. He could feel it in the air, and the sound of uneven breaths made the hair on his arms prickle under his blacks. He walked further into the ship, calling your name softly when he heard sniffles and a cough.

“Cyare? Hey,” he said when he saw you lying in his bunk, covered in a blanket and looking much worse than when he left you. You were unwell; the headache had been a precursor to something more serious. You squinted up at him as his shadow covered your eyes. He crouched down next to you immediately and ran a hand over your hair gently. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You groaned but leaned into his touch. “You’re supposed to be out.”

“I’m glad I came back.” Hunter pressed the back of his gloved hand to your forehead. Even through the skin-tight fabric, he could feel you burning up. “You should’ve called me,” he chided, a frown etched into his brow.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter under your chin, and coughing lightly again. Hunter grazed the back of his fingers against your cheek.

“You’re never a bother. Why would you think that?” he asked, shaking his head.

You just shrugged, then sneezed under the blanket. When you re-emerged, moaning in discomfort, Hunter gave your cheek another caress before he put his hands on his knees and stood up. “I’m getting you a cold towel for your head.”

“No, don’t go,” you weakly protested as he walked off to the fresher.

“I’ll just be a minute, love,” he said and went to rifle under the fresher sink for a small clean towel, cursing that he and his brothers weren’t tidier. Once he found one, he quickly wet it in cold water and wrung out the excess before walking back to the bunk. You cracked open your eyes when you heard his footsteps and twisted on your back as he crouched down again.

“Here,” he said softly as he placed the cold towel on your forehead, smoothing it down. You hummed before a shiver went through your body.

“Have you taken anything?” Hunter asked.

“A couple of pills when you guys left,” you told him, eyes drifting shut again. Hunter frowned. He wasn’t used to treating sick people. Clones rarely ever got sick, their immune systems engineered to withstand any illnesses. Any time he was treated for anything, it was for injuries, and Tech usually handled it.

But Hunter was your partner, in every sense of the word. He wanted to be there for you in any way he could. Not just as the leader of the squad, but as someone who loved you more than he thought he could ever love anyone.

He always took care of the people he loved.

So, he tried to remember what they’d learnt from their training modules as cadets, the ones that detailed nat-born illnesses and how to treat them if they ever encountered sick civilians.

Fever, sneezing, coughing, headache. Sounded like a flu-type sickness. Maybe you had picked it up on Felucia during their mission there a few days ago.

You’d already taken some medication, so he knew you wouldn’t be able to for the next few hours. He just had to try and make you comfortable and ease the symptoms of the fever as much as he could while the medication worked.

Hunter gently flipped the cool towel to the other side as he looked down at the blanket. “You need to keep cool, cyare. We don’t want the fever to get too high,” he hooked his fingers over the edge of the blanket. You made a sound of protest but ultimately let him remove the blanket, pushing it down to the end of the bunk. You shivered, but you looked up at him, eyes blinking at him. He’d never seen you look so helpless before, and he hated it. He cupped your jaw, skin still hot, thumb moving over your cheekbone.

“Where’s your water canteen?” he asked.

You nodded to the cockpit, and he went to go get it, filling it up on the way. He crouched beside you. “Can you sit up?”

You nodded and tried to move. Hunter grabbed the towel from your forehead before he placed a hand under your shoulder blades and held your arm to support the change in position, fixing the pillow behind you. You groaned, complaining about the heaviness in your body as you sat there. He looked at you, shoulders slumped forward, peaky expression on your face as you rubbed your eyes. Being sick looked miserable, and he wished he could take it from you and suffer with it himself, just so you didn’t have to. He unscrewed the canteen.

“Small sips, okay?” He held the lip of the canteen to your lips and the back of your head as you tilted back and took three small sips before Hunter pulled the canteen away. Some water dribbled down your lip and chin and he gently wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. You looked over at him, brows slanted down. You looked upset, which surprised him a little.

“What is it?” He asked, screwing the canteen shut again.

You made a noncommittal noise and slowly moved to lie down again. Hunter cradled your head as you guided it down to the pillow, removing his hand once you were fully down. He ran his hand over your hair again. He watched your eyes close slowly at the movement. He repeated it a few times, soothing you the only way he really knew how. He tried not to worry too much, but it was hard when you barely had the energy to look at him. He knew nat-borns slowly got better from illnesses such as these in a matter of days, and he would have Tech check you over once they all got back, but he didn’t like seeing you like this; eyes dull, skin clammy, body curled up. He just wanted you to get better sooner rather than later.

After a few moments, he picked up the now half-dry towel and said, “Gonna wet this again.”

He stood up and walked to the fresher, and when he came back, he placed the damp towel back on your forehead. As he pulled away, you grabbed his hand and cradled it to your chest, interlocking your fingers together and sighing. He smiled softly.

“Oh, ner cyare,” he whispered gently.

“I’m sorry, Hunter,” you croaked.

Hunter shook his head. “It’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re sick. It happens.”

“Not to you,” you scowled at his hand like it was to blame for his immunity to illness.

“Well, I can’t help that.” His mouth tilted up at the corner.

You fiddled with his fingers and traced lines down to his palms. “I just feel so helpless like this.”

“Lucky for you, I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your temple. He lingered there for a second before he pulled away, his other hand coming to your cheek.

You looked up at him, pout on your lips. “I didn’t want to ruin your night out.”

Hunter caressed your cheek. “There was nothing to ruin. You’re my priority.”

“Still. I’m sorry,” you said before kissing his fingers.

Hunter shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He adjusted the towel and then fixed the pillow underneath your head, so it was better supporting your neck. “Do you feel like some food?” he asked. He wanted to feel useful to you, but he didn’t know what else he could offer right now.

You shook your head. “Just wanna sleep.”

“Then sleep, love,” he said, pulling his hand from yours and sitting on the floor next to the bunk, his back against the wall opposite, legs stretched out and the soles of his feet resting against the bunk frame. “I’ll be here.”

You watched him, mouth pressing into a line before you reached out to him and your voice said quietly, “Closer?”

Hunter smiled. “Hang on.”

He stood up and began to remove his armour. Piece by piece, he placed it in a pile on one of the chairs in the centre of the ship. Now only in his blacks, he made his way back to you. You opened your eyes again and smiled when you saw him in his underarmour. He crouched down.

“Shuffle over,” he whispered, and you obliged, moving slowly so your back was almost up against the wall. Hunter climbed in next to you, sitting up in case he needed to move out if you got too hot. Once he was situated, you shuffled closer, head resting against his thigh, eyes closed. You’d curled yourself in a ball, and Hunter looked down as he repositioned the cool towel on your head, making sure it was in the right place.

“Rest, cyare. I’m right here.” He stroked your head, then moved his hand down to your shoulder, rubbing his thumb there. You snuggled into the side of his leg, letting out a sigh.

“Love you,” you mumbled as you began to drift off to sleep.

He smiled down at you, his hand stilling as he rested his palm, so it cupped the curve of your shoulder and kept you close to him. “Love you.”

banner art by @vimse thank you reading!

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TAGLIST FORM

#larissa writes #hunter x reader #hunter x reader fic #hunter fluff #hunter bad batch fluff #soft hunter #hunter bad batch #hunter bad batch fic #the bad batch hunter fic #the bad batch fluff #tbb x reader #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter

[221bshrlocked]

floating senses

Pairings: Hunter x Fem!Reader

Words: 1943

Warnings: Hunter experiences sensory overload. Talk of anxiety and panic attacks. Love confessions. Lots of touching. Implied smut...very implied. Like this is as implied as smut will get with me and that says a lot.

Summary: Something upset him so deeply that he couldn’t stand being in the presence of anyone.

A/N: I am feeling some type of way and this is the product of said, unknown feelings. Enjoy my lovely clone simps.

Something was wrong. You weren’t really sure what could have possibly happened that caused Hunter to drop what was in his hand so abruptly, and run away from you and the group. All you knew was that something must have happened that had him sprinting down the pathways and away from the city. You had noticed how uptight he was in the morning, but thought it was probably due to how busy the market tended to be during the early hours of the day. But as the hours rolled by, his eyebrows grew more furrowed, and his jaw tensed as if he was tasked with an impossible mission. Normally, Hunter was a controlled man, even in the most stressful of environments. He seldom let the situations get out of hand from him, and even then, he would voice out his concerns just to gain a different perspective. 

But this was different. 

Something upset him so deeply that he couldn’t stand being in the presence of anyone. 

“Where is he going?” Omega asks as she finishes helping Wrecker carry the rest of the supplies. She is about to follow Hunter when you hold out your hand, signaling her to stop and let you handle the situation. 

“Stay here, I’ll go and see what he needs.” You smile reassuringly at her and stand up from your kneeling position, nodding at Wrecker and Tech before walking towards the path Hunter took to the shore. 

As you descend the city, you can’t help but admire the colors of the sky as the sun sets far deep into the ocean, painting the clouds with pastels and shining stars. By the time you reach the beach, you get the sense that you’ll need to be patient and careful with Hunter. Although you’d been with the Batch for some time now, you knew that Hunter didn’t grow easy around people quickly. In fact, you found him the hardest to convince of your good, unselfish intentions. 

When you feel the warm sand beneath your feet, you take your shoes off and place them at the dock before continuing to where you knew Hunter liked to meditate. 

Normally, when he feels someone approaching him, Hunter announces his knowledge, either by asking his visitor a question or remarking on how loud they are. You found it funny that he tended to speak first, knowing that it was probably for the benefit of whoever was interrupting his alone time so they don’t jump in fear when they see him all of a sudden. 

But the closer you get to his spot, the more uneasy you become, mostly because you could hear the man groaning in pain. Forgoing the initial plan of approaching him softly, you run towards the large boulders near the edge of the forest until you come across Hunter’s body kneeling in the sand. 

“Kriff,” you swear beneath your breath, sprinting towards him and falling beside his heaving body to let him know that he isn’t alone. Hunter initially twitches away from you, shaking his head and falling to the ground as soon as he feels your hands reach for his shoulder. 

“It’s me Hunter, it’s just me. I’m here!” You whisper against his shoulder, knowing that voicing out your concerns might worsen his sensory overload. He shakes violently underneath the touch of your hands, but as soon as he glances to the side and sees how calm and worried your features are, he melts into your embrace and lets go of his chest. 

His hands shoot to the front of your shirt, and you prepare yourself for being thrown off of him, but the opposite happens. Hunter takes one look into your eyes and crashes against your chest, clinging onto you for dear life until you have no option but wrap your arms around him and part your thighs so he can settle in between them. His body is vibrating with energy, and you want nothing more than to talk him through whatever anxiety boiling through his body. But you remind yourself that any extra noise will make things worse, so instead of calming him the way you sometimes do with Wrecker or Omega, you decide to let your touch do the work for you. 

Taking a deep breath, you slowly move your hand across his shoulder and back, waiting until he gets used to the sensation before slipping your other hand into his hair and massaging his scalp. Hunter hisses in the beginning, his body begging him to remove himself from you so you don’t witness him during such a vulnerable, weak moment. But he wills himself to stay still in your arms, allowing you to drive his fears and sensitivity away. 

You don’t dare look down at him, knowing that he probably already hates you having a front row seat to his anxiety. Instead, you think of the colors etched across the skies, allowing the soft sound of the waves coming to the shore calm the both of you so you don’t cry from how deeply you feel for the man. You’re not sure how long you lay there with Hunter in your arms, but when his body relaxes further into you, and his pained whines turned into deep, guttural groans, you know that he’s moved past whatever it was that sent him over the edge so cruelly. 

Except the more you move your hands up and down his back, and the harder you dig your nails into the hair at the nape of his neck, Hunter can’t help but groan against your sternum, his breaths coming out hot and heavy against the little bit of skin peeking through the buttons of your shirt. His breathing is becoming erratic again, except unlike before, his body isn’t shaking from the violent sensory overload, but a more pleasant buzzing coursing through his veins. 

The moment you realize what you’ve unintentionally done, you stop your ministrations and begin to detach your hands from his person. 

“Please…d-don’t. I- I need to…I need you to stay,” his words are broken, voice hoarse from how dry his throat has become, as if he’s been talking for the past hours. You’re shocked by the turn of the events, but you’re more surprised by how comfortable Hunter is with you. You knew that he’d learn how to trust you at some point, but you never thought the trust would run so deep to the point where he’d willingly move past such a rigid line along with you. 

“Hunter…you’re not thinking clearly right now.” You firmly respond, waiting until he looks up through heavy-lidded eyes and stares into your slowly dilating pupils.

“You- you’re the reason I ran away.” 

It’s far from what you expected him to say, now of all times. You thought he’d tell you that he’s thinking clearly, or perhaps beg you some more in that sinful, gruff voice of his, maybe even tell you to just end his misery and do this once before you return to the city.

You must be staring at him with shock and confusion, because Hunter tenses his jaw and looks away from you. 

“I was thinking about how caring you are with Omega, how much patience you have for Tech…even when he’s unknowingly insulting you…how sweet you tend to be with Wrecker, especially when he has nightmares.”

You can’t find the words to respond to Hunter, so you remain silent, willing him to continue explaining himself so your brain doesn’t explode from the sudden confession. 

“And, you’re always so understanding with me…as if I haven’t been cold to you ever since you joined.” You don’t like the way he describes himself, so you finally break your silence and push him off of you until you can get a better look at him. 

“I know it’s difficult to trust new people, especially now when your lives are at stake. I would- maker Hunter, I would never fault you for being extra careful. You’re just looking after your brothers…after Omega.”

“There…that’s what made me run away.” He cuts you off, and a part of you is unsure as to why that could possibly make him leave. 

“I was thinking of you, mesh’la…until I finally understood why I don’t want to let you in.” It’s your turn to breathe harshly, chest rising and falling rapidly with every word Hunter bestows upon you. Looking at him now, you’re unable to hold back from admiring how boyish yet rugged he still looks as the pastels across the skies above you shine over his handsome, sharp features. His hair falls perfectly over his bronze skin, framing his deep, hazel eyes and chiseled jaw so perfectly that you can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing his aquiline nose. 

His breath hitches at the gentle touch, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was already lying in your arms, Hunter thinks he may have fallen into your embrace if the two of you were standing and you decided to pull that little stunt. When you pull away, far too soon to his liking, Hunter lets out a shaky breath and smiles softly at you. 

“I’ve let you in a long time ago sweetheart, and I’m done pretending I don’t want you.” 

The sureness with which he reveals that last bit of his heart to you nearly sends you into overdrive, and you blink the tears away before you ask him one last time, wanting him to be sure of what he’s saying. 

“You want me?” Your voice shakes as you ask, afraid that he’ll come to his senses all of a sudden and tell you that he didn’t mean any of what he just said. But Hunter doesn’t waste another second, sitting up and moving closer to you until there is barely any space between your lips and his own. 

“Desperately.” He whispers against your lips before he engulfs you completely, the passion he exerts over your body forcing you onto your back. You part your lips for him instantly, combing your hands into his hair and tugging on it when he slips his tongue inside our mouth and tastes you. 

You’d later tell him that the ease with which he confessed to you his feelings nearly made you fall over in tears, but you set the thought aside now, wanting to cherish the moment until it’s ingrained in your mind. 

When Hunter pulls away, you open your eyes and find him studying you closely. You think it was probably his turn to overthink matters, and before he can apologize for how forward he’s being, you pull him back down and pray his name as you kiss along his jaw and neck. You barely hold back from giggling when you feel his elbows buckle, sending him flush against your chest until you hate access to the skin showing from beneath his shirt. 

“S-sweetheart.” His voice is dangerously low, but you continue to map his scars with teasing kisses and little bites, wanting him to completely surrender himself to you. 

“Hunter…” You moan in return, smiling to yourself when he groans in response to the lewd pronunciation of his name. 

“I need you, cyare. I need you so kriffing badly.” He growls into the cool dusk air, hands grasping at your shoulders to get you to ease off of him if only for a moment. 

“Then take me.” You respond instantly, letting go of him so you can lay your head back down against the sand of the shores. Hunter snaps his gaze at you, once again scrutinizing your features and body language so there can be no room for any misunderstandings. 

“Fucking finally.”

#hunter x reader #hunter/reader #hunter bad batch x reader #hunter bad batch/reader #sergeant hunter #hunter the bad batch #hunter fluff #hunter angst #the bad batch #it's been a long time #and i'm still not over the last season #ugh #soft hunter #clone fanfiction #hunter fanfiction #tbb #hunter tbb x reader #hunter tbb/reader

[kybercrystals94]

Scraped Knees

By KyberCrystals94

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023|Day 15|Prompt 15: “I don’t need you to help me, I can handle things myself.” | “I’m fine.”

Rating: G

Words: 739

Summary: Set directly after Season 1 Episode 3 “Replacements”

Omega waits until the ship falls almost entirely silent before she tries to sneak out of her new room. She practices the quiet footfalls she learned from following Hunter on Kamino, creeping down the dim hall to where she remembered Wrecker pointing out the med kit during his grand tour of the Marauder. Her knees burn where the fabric of her leggings rubs on the raw skin from where she fell following the Ordo Moon Dragon into its den.

After glancing up at the cockpit where Hunter has first watch, Omega carefully pulls the kit off the shelf and lifts the lid, setting it aside. She frowns as she stares into the messy array of medical supplies. Great. So much for being quiet, she thinks sourly. All she needs is bandages, and maybe some antibiotic ointment to prevent any infection. She begins her search, quickly finding bandages, but struggling to find the antibiotic. She is debating on how necessary the ointment is when a voice says above her, “What are you doing?”

Omega wishes she could deny the pathetic squeak of alarm that escapes her lungs before she clasps both hands over her mouth, dropping the bandages back into the chaos of the kit. Curses!

“Hunter,” she says, looking up at the Sargent. She isn’t sure if he meant to sneak up on her or not, but by the guilty look on his face, she suspects not. Omega scrambles to her feet. “Sorry. I just—sorry. Uhm…”

Hunter looks down at the med kit. “Are you hurt, kid?” he asks.

Omega’s cheeks burn with embarrassment, though she can’t decide if it’s more from being caught sneaking into the med kit or having to admit she’s hurt. Needing bandages for scraped up knees sounds so childish when compared to the injuries her brothers must’ve sustained over their lives as soldiers. “No, I’m fine. Really.”

Hunter gives her a look, and Omega can’t hold his gaze, averting her eyes to the shadows in the corner.

“Omega,” Hunter says gently but firmly, “in this squad, we do not hide injuries.”

“It’s not an injury,” Omega protests, “I just sorta scraped my knees up when I was crawling around in that cave on Ordo Moon. It’s nothing!”

“Let me be the judge of that,” Hunter says, picking up the med kit and nodding toward the cockpit.

Omega frowns, but follows Hunter, climbing into the copilot’s seat. She rolls up her leggings to expose the torn-up skin on her knees. Honestly, it looks and feels worse than it actually is, she knows; however, the expression on Hunter’s face when he kneels down in front of her to examine the damage for himself makes her eyes burn. He looks so…concerned. Over something so minor. Whenever something like this happened in the lab, Nala Se would tell Omega she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

“‘Mega,” he says softly, “You should have told us.”

Omega blinks, surprised by the nickname. She’s never had a nickname before…unless she counted being called kid…

“I didn’t want to be a bother,” Omega says. She sniffs and roughly rubs a fist over her eyes to hide the tears that come.

Hunter smiles at her, a small thing that is barely noticeable, but she sees it. “It’s never a bother to take care of our own, Omega. You don’t know how many bloodied scrapes I’ve cleaned up and bandaged over the years, for all our brothers, and they’ve done the same for me. And you’re one of us now, right?”

Omega nods. She doesn’t trust her voice to come out without wobbling.

“That means,” Hunter continues, starting to rummage through the med kit, “when you get hurt, no matter how small you think it is, you’ll let one of us know, right?”

Omega nods again.

Hunter works with practiced ease, and with a gentleness Omega hadn’t entirely expected from a soldier. When he is finished, Omega rolls her leggings back into place while Hunter puts away the med kit. When he returns, Omega smiles at him. “Thank you, Hunter.”

“Sure thing, kid,” Hunter says, ruffling her hair. “You’d better get back to bed.”

“Yes, sir!” Omega slides out of the seat. She walks back to her gunner’s mount room feeling lighter.

As she curls back up under her blankets, hugging Lula close, she decides that having brothers is even better than she imagined it would be.

END

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[staycalmandhugaclone]

Arrows (Special Request) - Doc - Part 3

Part 3 of Arrow. Reference to Found Footage. If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved!

Also: got a new Poll up for your thoughts! Should Doc Have Her Own Blog?

Warnings: This one's pretty mild - descriptions of pain, some guilt... I think that's about it

WC: 2,458 - I'm thinking one more chapter will finish this off

If I looked for it, if I let my mind fade into the hum of overhead lights and focused only on each fractured inhale, I could just taste the scent of autumn flowers, that rich earthiness lingering from mere hours prior when Hunter laid here instead of me; when the ship was blessed with a rare moment of quiet that we coveted for too little time. I wondered if he gleaned comfort from my scent during those precious few moments of peace, or if my presence had become so commonplace that he barely noticed it anymore.

And the others? What tiny details caught their attention when reality simply became too much to take in at once? Did Crosshair count the scratches on the durasteel walls? Did Tech run through impossible equations in his mind? Is that why Wrecker so frequently sought out the simple tooka doll? To distract himself with the sensation of static wrought by gently grinding the stuffing between his callused fingers? And Echo…

I remembered the first day he finally let me help him. I remembered how hesitant he was; how he’d nearly fled before allowing my touch too near the nodes of metal lining his spine; how violent his relief had been when my hands soothed the ache from muscles desperate for a release his body simple couldn’t grant him anymore. I remembered the tears we never spoke of and the stillness as I’d simply held him after. Where did he seek refuge when the memories threatened to overwhelm him? When the ache of limbs lost long ago resurfaced absent cause or hope for reprieve?

I wanted to hide in the shattered recess of my psyche, safe from the hurt and cold, set apart from the body he’d helped place atop a cot that was never meant to be anyone’s bed for long. I wanted to pretend that when I woke from this half-dream I would find us still soaring through the in-between of hyperspace, that it might be a rare morning in which I rose before the others and could lure them into the kitchenette with the scent of fresh caf and some delicacy snuck aboard from one of the exotic markets of some far away world. I wanted anything but for my mind to be dragged back into the ruined form too weak even to shake beneath the chill dancing atop skin aching beneath its own weight.

“-at me! Come on…” Echo… I didn’t want to hear the fear in words he forced into a whisper.

“Please… Come on, I need you to look at me.” I didn’t want to feel the subtle tremor in the gentle touch of his hand against my jaw, the desperation in how his thumb swept so carefully atop my cheek; the broken prayer of my name murmured in a voice that seemed to resonate through me in a delicate rush of heat.

But, once more, he called my name, and I knew I would endure this agony for eternity if only to free him of the sorrow in his voice. I wanted to sob beneath the understanding that I’d never really escaped the pain, that what madness feigned reprieve had merely lulled me into a denial that could only ever end like this: thrown back into a hurt too great for the nerves to ever stop screaming. Hot. Cold. Pain. Pressure. Every sensation overstimulated into a deafening noise rekindled by the ceaseless racing of my heart. Still, I forced myself to look for him, gaze sweeping blindly before me for a long moment before finding the brilliant amber of his eyes.

“Hey-hey; good,” The words escaped him in a gasp of relief, fingers flaring out to hold my face like I might fade again at any moment. “You stay with me, Doc. Don’t scare me like that again.” I shifted slightly into his palm, movement delayed beneath exhaustion, but the hint of a smile flitting at the edges of his lips was worth the effort.        

“Tech’s making progress on figuring out how to communicate with the locals.” He explained, the already smooth cadence of his voice slowing even further. “It won’t be much longer before he gets a cure from them for whatever gunk they coated their arrows with.” I could just make out Tech’s crisp voice in the distance, but I couldn’t understand any words. It took a long moment to realize he wasn’t speaking common, that whatever dialect he was working to understand more closely resembled Geonosian, and I had little hope in trying to grasp some meaning behind the guttural clicks and growls. Abandoning the attempt, I let my attention return to eyes still heavy with worry.

“With there being a sentient race here, the mission’s voided until the senate works out a charter with them.” He explained, and I didn’t doubt that he knew how I was relying on the familiar sound of his voice to ground myself, to keep my fractured glimmer of awareness focused on him lest I recede back into the corner of my mind where nothing quite existed. “That means as soon as we know you’re alright, we can leave; so, you just hold on a little longer, okay?”

I think I nodded, but with how the room spun, it was hard to tell. I tried not to think about it; tried not to think of the ache in my chest that only grew beneath my heart’s frantic pace, the effort it took to drag each panted, shallow gasp through my abused throat despite how the raw flesh balked from even that fleeting caress of air; the distant sensation of having sprinted to the point of collapse and forcing myself to continued regardless how acid filled my veins and every cell was begging me to stop.

“… awake?” Voices hummed somewhere nearby.

“Not really.” I didn’t realize I’d fallen back into that haze until hearing them. “She’s been… not really sleeping, but…” Echo struggled slightly to explain before adding, “Her heartrate’s finally starting to come down, though.” As soon as he said it, I realized he was right and felt myself relax slightly into the worn cot.

“That is… a relief.” Despite his words, there was still a tension in his voice that my mind rebelled against. “Beta blockers can take some time to begin working, and I was unsure if they would even be effective given the nature of the toxin.” When I managed to look up at him, he held the med-scanner over me, attention locked on the screen with the same steadfastness as he granted his datapad.

“Tech.” Echo called, and I could hear the smirk on his lips. His brother glanced briefly toward him before turning his gaze to me, and, for just a moment, he froze.

“Ah… hm…” For those first few seconds, he seemed torn between wanting to say too many things at once yet unable to remember how to speak, and, Maker, if seeing him stammer didn’t bring the threat of a chuckle to me. He must have seen the hint of a smile, seen the fond affection in my eyes because only then did he finally seem to breathe, shoulders loosening as he allowed himself to smile back.

“I was successful in establishing a means of communication with the natives.” He explained, voice quieting as he set the scanner down to gently place his hand over mine. “We’ll have to travel to their colony to retrieve it, but I assure you, we’ll return as quickly as we can.” I wanted to ask him what he’d learned, wanted to remind him that it was okay for him to feel the thrill of excitement at discovering this new people, but, with a fleeting squeeze that reminded me of the strange numbness stealing through that limb, he turned and walked quickly from the room.

“Crosshair and I are staying with you.” Echo reassured me as I stared at the door for a beat too long. Before I could gather breath to reply, that door opened once more as Hunter and Wrecker approached me, strides just shy of rushed. Echo reluctantly stepped away for Wrecker to reach me, massive hands enveloping mine as he nearly trembled before me.

“I’m sorry, Doc; I should’a been payin’ closer attention…” My heart broke at the guilt in those gentle eyes. “I should’ve heard ‘em or”

“Shh-shh.” It was quiet, and it was weak, but Wrecker instantly stilled at that soothing sound. My fingers shifted listlessly in a vain attempt to hold him. Despite the faltering movements, he understood, grip tightened carefully around me. “Be… b…” Lips and tongue listless beneath what ragged breath I forced through my ruined throat, the tattered snips of speech escaped me sounded more akin to a wheeze than a word.

“It’s a’right – promise. We’re”

“Be c… care-f-full.” He instantly fell silent at the strangled words, gaze dropping to watch his thumbs shift lightly atop my wrist, brows furrowing deeper with each passing second.

“We will.” He whispered, glancing almost shyly toward me. Movements nothing if not careful, he set my hand back atop the cot and turned to rejoin Tech, leaving Hunter and me alone.

Without hesitation, he let his hands cup my face, let his forehead fall to rest lightly atop mine as his chest swelled with slow, deep breaths, and I felt the fear that wanted to ruin him; I felt the tension so nearly causing those hands to shake, but I also felt the breadth of determination driving his every movement, and, when he shifted to touch his lips to my brow, when he lingered in that tender kiss, I couldn’t doubt him.

“Promise me you’ll hold on.” He begged, words fluttering across my scalp.

“Ca… can’t get… rid o… of me.” Despite the terrible weakness in those fractured murmurs, there was a smile on his lips as he pulled back to meet my eyes. The reverent dance of his touch sweeping delicately along the curve of my cheeks sent a warmth through me that, if only for a moment, let me forget the crippling pain twisting through my knee and shoulder, the nauseating war of blinding heat and that terrible cold churning beneath my skin. He held me, and I existed only in the quiet in his eyes, the too-quick eternity in those few seconds of reaching for words neither of us could quite speak.

And then the muscles of his jaw bunched, teeth clicking together as he dragged his gaze from mine, hands pausing just a moment longer before returning to his sides. With a final deep breath, he left as well.

In those stolen seconds free of guilt-ridden eyes, I let myself crumble, face twisting beneath the agony I’d fought so hard to mask in the face of the others. My head craned back into the thin pillow, heel dragging uselessly atop the mattress as breaths I’d fought to keep steady shattered into sobs that I still struggled to force into a hard-won silence, hand reaching up to claw uselessly at my ruined shoulder.

I heard the hiss of the door but wasn’t able to fight myself back into that earlier façade before the approaching footsteps stopped sharply. Caught in that moment of weakness, my teeth locked around my lower lip, shame and sorrow twisted across my face as I glanced up. The dark understanding in Crosshair’s gaze robbed me of that shame, and I found myself unable to even try vailing the depth of hurt torturing me without it, eyes sliding shut as my chest hitched. His touch whispered so softly over my shin, I almost doubted its existence until the gentle rasp of his voice hovered just above the tense silence around us.

“What can I do?” It was a rare thing to hear that softness from him; the faintest hint of a plea just brushing past his lips.

His jaw tensed. In silence, he tread to the far wall, meticulously removing his armor with practiced ease to rest atop the counter. Hand lingering atop that final bit of plastoid, he hesitated, but when he turned back to me, those eyes were quiet in a way I wasn’t used to, and I found myself frozen as he returned to my bedside, as he eased his arm beneath my uninjured shoulder, hand slipping down to wrap around my back, and he lowered himself onto the very edge of the cot, embrace tightening just enough to gently pull me against him until he lay nestled beneath me.

“S… s-stay.” I hated how the word fluttered from me in that desperate whimper, but the overwhelming need for something, anything to distract myself from feeling my veins carrying poison and pain and fire throughout every inch of me overruled what pride might otherwise have stilled my tongue. He didn’t move for a long moment, gaze burring into mine with an attentiveness that was once unsettling, but now I yearned for the comfort of that gaze, the innate safety in it.

“This okay?” I remembered him asking me that once before and found myself nodding against him just as I’d done then, cheek dragging over the coveted warmth of his chest. I could feel the thrum of his heart, felt the powerful, slow beats count the seconds with a leisurely calm I so desperately clung to, mind instantly focusing on that steady rhythm, on the tentative brush of his hands over the base of my ribs, the soft weight of his chin resting lightly atop the crown of my head.

Maker, I wanted to sleep; to vanish for just a moment into that emptiness as I melted into the safety of his embrace. I ached beneath the weight of an exhaustion so deep, the simple act of drawing breath was quickly becoming an insurmountable task. Some distant whisper of logic told me it was from the toxin, remembered Tech stating that it blocked some autonomic functions, but that knowledge offered no reprieve.

“m…m s-so… tired…” I sobbed, straining to press closer to him. Instantly his arm tightened, and I could feel him shift to look at me. The gentle caress of his fingers trailing through my hair drew my gaze up to him, and I knew he saw the threat of hopelessness in me as his jaw worked subtly over words he hadn’t yet settled on.

“Close your eyes.” He barely breathed the quiet words. I started to tell him I couldn’t, that my body simply refused to grant me that escape, but then his hand settled softly over my eyes, and, in the darkness, there was only his touch, the gentle dance of his heartbeat, the strength of him surrounding me, and I readily lost myself in him.

Next Chapter

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#star wars #tbb #the bad batch #star wars hunter #star wars tech #star wars wrecker #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb oc #my writings #star wars fanfic #first person reader #soft hunter #arrows #whump #reader whump #Soft Crosshair #guilt

[ve-ti-ver]

Hunter reigns in the fathier during a ride at dusk, maybe he heard something in the brush…

A little gift for the very talented @freesia-writes. Featuring her OC Lyra who was a lot of fun to draw!

#I can paint backgrounds I swear #the bad batch #the bad batch fanart #clone force 99 #tcw fanart #tbb fanart #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #soft hunter #oc art #star wars oc art #vetiversart #hunter tbb fanart #tbb hunter

[fanfictasia]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CT-9904 | Crosshair & Clone Trooper Hunter Characters: Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) (minor), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo (minor) Additional Tags: POV Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Not Canon Compliant - Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Season/Series 02, Hunter Needs A Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Crosshair Needs a Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Protective Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Protective Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Soft Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Soft Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Family, Siblings, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Crosshair Rejoins Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch, Happy Ending

Summary:

After tracking Hemlock from Eriadu to Tantiss, the Bad Batch successfully launches an infiltration to rescue Crosshair from the Empire’s grasp. Getting Crosshair was the easy part. None of them had really thought about how hard it would be to actually have him back. Until they do.

Read on:

https://www.wattpad.com/1378733035-star-wars-one-shots-miss-me

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14275898/1/Miss-Me

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #the bad batch #bad batch #bad batch fanfiction #hunter #crosshair #hunter and crosshair #crosshair and hunter #not canon compliant #tbbaw2023 #day 5 #tbb crosshair #whump #hiding face in neck #i'll keep you safe #hunter needs a hug #crosshair needs a hug #soft hunter #soft crosshair #protective hunter #protective crosshair #siblings #fluff #hurt/comfort #soft #hopeful ending #happy ending

[disastertriowriting]

@clonefandomevents

And here's our fill for the square "Soft". :D

After tracking Hemlock from Eriadu to Tantiss, the Bad Batch successfully launches an infiltration to rescue Crosshair from the Empire’s grasp. Getting Crosshair was the easy part. None of them had really thought about how hard it would be to actually have him back. Until they do.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #the bad batch #bad batch #bad batch fanfiction #hunter #crosshair #bad batch bingo #badbatchbingo23 #prompt: soft #hunter and crosshair #crosshair and hunter #protective hunter #hunter needs a hug #crosshair needs a hug #protective crosshair #soft hunter #soft crosshair #family #siblings #fluff #hurt/comfort #hopeful ending #happy ending

[monsieur-kazzle-dazzle]

i finally updated this bad boy if anyone wants to read

#hunter x oc #tbb hunter #soft hunter #pilot oc #if you do read any feedback is appreciated :) #hondo makes an appearance #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #ao3 fanfic #my work #the bad batch #tbb #star wars the bad batch #star wars #star wars the clone wars #sergeant hunter

[my-morai]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Hunter & Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & Original Female Character(s), Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Omega Needs a Hug (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Sick Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Soft Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Parental Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Sick Character, The Dad Batch, Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Tech is a good nurse, Hunter is a Good Dad, Mando'a Language (Star Wars) Series: Part 2 of Look for the Light | The Bad Batch & Tali Summary:

Omega catches the flu, revealing some of her medical trauma to Tali, who wants nothing more than to show Omega how cared for she is. But when she falls ill herself, Tali is the one to experience the true care that the Batch provides.

#fanfic #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #sick fanfiction #original character #the dad batch #soft hunter #hunter is a good dad #sick character #hurt/comfort #found family #fluff #tech is a good nurse #everyone needs a hug

[rileyclaw]

guys I really like the camila adopts hunter trope guys I really really really-

#camilas soft spot for hunter in fan content after kings tide is my absolute FAVOURITE trope so far #the owl house #toh #toh comic #toh fanart #my art #hunter toh #camila noceda #human realm hijinks #long post

[crosshairlovebot]

woven comforts / hunter x gn!reader

pairing: hunter x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has a nickname.

description: hunter comes home after a long day, and you're there - as always.

word count: 1,309

warnings: none. it's soft hunter at his softest.

this is a request from a lovely twitter mutual who asked for some cozy post-work relaxation/stress relief! i got a little carried away and actually wrote two pieces for this. this is the second one because I didn't think the first was cozy enough! but I will definitely still post the other one because I love it too. soft hunter is so nice to write. i hope you enjoy it!

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated.

The Pabu sun streamed in and warmed the side of your face as you scrolled through the datapad on your lap. You heard the front door open and close from your spot on the couch, and you smiled when you turned and saw Hunter stroll in, his body slightly hunched.

“Hey,” you stood up, placing the datapad on the caf table. “You’re back later than I thought.”

Hunter stretched his neck out, eyes drifting closed before he forced them open again. “A couple of the boats broke down before they left the dock, slowed us down.” He smiled tiredly at you after running a hand down his face.

“Sounds stressful,” you commented before meeting him in the open kitchen.

Hunter shook his head, downplaying and evading his troubles as he often did. “It was nothing.” He moved closer to hold your arms and gave a lingering kiss on your cheek. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” you smiled, leaning into his kiss. He kept holding you, like if he didn’t he wouldn’t be able to stand upright. You took his hands as you surveyed his appearance. The bandana that kept his hair in check was askew, and his hair was knotted from the sea breeze. His clothes lightly smelled like sweat and the brine of the ocean, and his strong hands were slightly red and his palms calloused. He needed to relax, but he would never ask for it. You tucked some tangled hair behind his ear. “Why don’t you go shower and change, and I’ll make you some food?”

“It’s my turn to cook tonight,” he protested weakly.

“Don’t worry about that,” you said, cupping his cheek with one hand and kissing the other. “Just go and clean up, cyare.”

Hunter smiled, evidently too tired to argue and softened by the endearment. He pulled you in for a gentle kiss that almost made you forget your name before pulling away from you and going to shower. You smiled as you heard the door close and the water turn on.

The water running quickly became a comforting kind of white noise as you made Hunter a sandwich with the Pabu’s famous seeded bread that he loved so much. You just finished cutting the sandwich diagonally when you heard the water shut off and the bathroom door open a few minutes later. Hunter emerged with loose pants hanging low on his hips and a sleeveless undershirt, wet hair stuck to the skin around his collarbones and neck. He looked a little more refreshed, his tattooed face a little brighter as he ran the towel over his wet hair.

“Better?”

“Much,” he draped the towel around his neck as you pushed the plate with the sandwich across the bench. He smiled at you with such gratitude you would’ve thought you had done more than just make him a snack. “Thank you,” he took the plate.

You returned the smile. “You’re welcome.”

You poured him a glass of cool water and then you both made your way over to the couch to sit down. You pulled your legs up under you to face him as he leaned forward to eat over the plate he’d placed on the caf table. You watched the tendons in his neck move as he took a bite, he hummed in enjoyment, making you smile. “Good?”

He nodded. “Thank you,” he repeated after swallowing. “Tell me about your day?” he asked eyes meeting yours in genuine curiosity as he took another bite.

You launched into a retelling of your day; a trip to the market and the bakery for the bread with Omega before dropping her off to help Tech and Phee with cataloguing the Archium, then helping an elderly neighbour with her pruning since her hands often locked up before coming home and tidying things up after Omega stayed with you both last night. She tended to hop around to each of her brothers’ bungalows, but this was her home base.

Hunter listened intently as he ate. You watched him as you spoke, almost getting distracted by the way his hair fell in his face as he leaned over the plate so it would catch any crumbs. You reached out and placed some damp hair behind his ear, curling it gently. These moments between you were so practised that you often didn’t notice them anymore. Both of you just moving with each other automatically. You didn’t notice touching Hunter’s hair, softly running your fingers through it. You didn’t notice when he offered you a bite of his sandwich wordlessly, and you took one mid-sentence, covering your mouth as you talked around it while he took a bite where you just did.

There was an ease with Hunter that meant these moments, however insignificant, made up the pattern of your intertwined lives. Both of you weaved together effortlessly as if you were always meant to.

After Hunter finished eating and his glass of water was empty, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. You shuffled closer and ran your fingernails over his scalp. “Today was pretty tiring, huh?”

Hunter peeked open an eye and nodded. “Since Shep opened up the surrounding islands for settlement, there’s always shipments coming and going, things to load and unload. Today felt longer than others.”

You smiled sympathetically. “You’re doing good, you’re a great help to everyone.”

Hunter smiled and reached to grab the hand resting in your lap, squeezing it as his thumb caressed the back of it. “Thanks, mesh’la.”

You smiled and gently tugged him closer and guided his head down, so his head could lay down in your lap. As soon as he realised what you were trying to do, he scooted down so he was comfortable and closed his eyes, sighing with content. You chuckled and looked down at him. “Comfortable?”

“Extremely.”

You laughed again and continued running your fingers through his damp locks, which were already starting to curl up as they dried in the setting sun’s heat that permeated the bungalow.

Instead of talking, you let him rest, watching his rest rise and fall. You adjusted yourself carefully under him, angling his head slightly so you had more access to his hair. You combed through it gently with your fingers before sectioning it in two, and then into three smaller sections on each side, braiding his hair. You softly tugged the hair as you weaved the strands together, watching his face and body slowly relax from the movement of your hands against his scalp. He loved it when you played with his hair. It soothed him in a way nothing else did.

You finished off one side before starting on the other, and by the time you were done with the braids, Hunter was asleep, his breathing deep and even. You smiled, gently brushing the bare side of his face with the back of your fingers, warmth filling your chest at the sleeping man of yours. You were glad he could finally rest.

Hunter stirred a little from the touch, reaching up to cradle your hand to his face.  He cracked one eye open. He was always a light sleeper.

“Sorry, go back to sleep,” you whispered, gently caressing his cheek with your thumb.

“Closer,” he mumbled still half asleep, tugged your hand, making you smile.

You both readjusted, him lifting his head so you could get out from under him before he pulled you down, so you lay with him, head resting on his chest. Hunter’s arms went around you, one of his hands running up and down your arm as if soothing himself back into a slumber. You relaxed too, his steady heartbeat under your ear. Soon, his touch stilled, turning limp as he fell asleep again. You smiled before closing your eyes too.

thank you for reading! i have a few requests to get through so keep a look out for more soft clone pieces!

banner art by @vimse

taglist: @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @seriowan @thrawns-babygirl @bobaprint @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @crosshairsnose @wreckerswife @leavingkamino @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @snarky-mans-gf @mylifeisactuallyamess @cloned-eyes @chopper-base @wenalena @bluebird-dreams @pb-jellybeans @a-streakofblue @rexamongthestars @r2d2staser @theawkwardartist12 @freesia-writes

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#larissa writes #hunter x reader #hunter x reader fic #hunter fluff #soft hunter #the bad batch hunter #hunter fic #the bad batch hunter fic #the bad batch fluff #the bad batch #hunter bad batch #tbb x reader #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader

[astrolavas]

thinking about the... potential clawthorne woodcarving mentorship.

+ bonus cuz also thinking abt how if hunter ever met dell's palisman and got reminded of flapjack, he'd probably feel bad abt making that association cuz he knows what it's like to be seen only as someone's different version (even though the bird wouldn't mind much so lol)

#eda having that palistrom seed.. hunter saying he wants to learn how to carve palisman... his relation to clawthornes. it HAS to mean STH js #the owl house #toh #hunter toh #toh hunter #hahaa always thinking abt hunter growing a soft spot for palismen and loving creating and bringing them to life #but never being able to replace flapjack no matter how many palismen for other ppl he carves. I'M GONNA- #:((((( :/// #like he's not going to want to replace flapjack just like that rn. cuz he LOVES that bird. it's gonna be so hard for him to just.. Move On #and flapjack's a PART of him.. so very curious where they'll go with this because..... HM. HM like he serves as his disability aid almost #and he can't just REMAKE him. but he cannot also just.... ignore what happened straight away. but it's also important to heal #but whatever he decides to do i feel like he'd love to just............ create. whether it be for himself or others #BUT GAH. ANYWAY XKJSJSK wrote an essay abt this already don't need to write one in the tags TOO. so uh .. yea #little guy.. pls find happiness #my art #fanart #hunter #hunter noceda #hunter wittebane #eda #eda clawthorne #dell #dell clawthorne #dell's palisman #toh art #edalyn clawthorne #also like...... if flapjack and dell's palisman were caleb's and evelyn's palismen...... and knew each other........ #and while flapjack was waiting for his new person at the bat queen's cave dell's palisman was being passed down clawthorne generations #OUUHGHHHHGHHHH they were probably friends..... they Knew each other #what's up with you you mysterious yellow bird with eyebrows...... what's your story

[kybercrystals94]

Resilient

By KyberCrystals94

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023 | Day 30 | Prompt 31: “I thought I was getting better.” | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”

Rating: T

Words: 935

Summary: Echo thought he had gotten past these episodes.

Author’s Note: I swapped the prompts for today and tomorrow, because I was going to post Part 3 of Regroup today; however, I needed a little more time with it, so it will be coming tomorrow!

“CT-1409, do you experience these episodes often?” a soft, even, expressionless voice asks.

Echo turns his head and finds himself face to face with a Kaminoan lab assistant, large orb eyes blinking slowly, expectantly. Waiting. They had asked him a question.

“What?” he asks, shifting awkwardly where he sits on the end of a medical cot, metal legs dangling.

The Kaminoan sighs but repeats the questions. “Your night terrors. Do you experience these episodes often?”

“No,” comes the automatic lie, “I don’t have night terrors.”

“That is incorrect, CT-1409,” the Kaminoan refutes, “Our records indicate that you experience night terror episodes between two and three times per week.”

“What records?” Echo demands. He’s never confessed his nightmares to anyone, let alone a Kaminoan medical facility. The only ones who know that he wakes up some nights with a scream being torn out of his lungs are...

“We receive reports from Clone Force 99,” the Kaminoan replies coolly. “It is troubling that you would find it acceptable to lie about your condition.”

Echo’s mind is reeling. The Batch told them? They’ve been reporting to the Kaminoans all this time? He trusted them...

“It isn’t a condition,” Echo protests weakly. His mouth and throat feel like he swallowed sand.

“Fully functioning clones are resilient to mental and emotional disorders such a post-traumatic stress. However, seeing as you have been altered extensively by the Techno Union, it is understandable that your cognitive constitution has been compromised.” The Kaminoan turns away from him, picks up a syringe filled with a silvery blue substance.

Echo stares at it. “What is that?”

“The cost of treating your condition far outweighs the benefits,” the Kaminoan tells him. “Please lie back and remain calm.”

“You’re going to decommission me,” Echo breathes out. He doesn’t move to lie down, he can’t. Even if he wanted to. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to die. “I need to speak with my commanding officer. CT-99...”

“There is no need,” the Kaminoan interrupts him. “Your commanding officer is fully aware of our decision.”

“No!” Echo shakes his head. “Hunter would not allow this. I demand to speak to him immediately.”

“You are Kaminoan property. Your commanding officer has no say. Please follow my request, or I will be forced to have you restrained.”

Echo wills himself to move, but it’s as though his muscles have turned to stone, heavy and unyielding. He can only watch in horror as the Kaminoan approaches him, puts a hand on his shoulder and pushes him back. The needle of the syringe glistens in the haunting white light overhead.

“It is a painless death,” the Kaminoan assures him.

“No, please,” Echo begs, and he realizes he is crying. “Please, I don’t want to die. Please.”

“You have served your purpose and are no longer a valuable or viable resource.” The pinch of a needle.

“Please...”

“Echo!”

The cyborg sits up with something between a strangled scream and a gasp. He is breathing hard, lungful after lungful of air doesn’t seem to be enough. A hand grips his bicep hard, and Echo pulls away wildly, swinging out with his scomp arm.

“Hey, hey, take it easy,” Hunter’s voice sounds startled, and Echo turns to see the Sargeant looking at him from several paces away.

“Stay away from me,” Echo chokes out, “Don’t come near me.”

“Echo,” Hunter soothes, “you were having a nightmare. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

“No,” Echo cries, “I’m not okay. I’m not!”

“Alright,” Hunter says.

Echo nods, still breathing hard. He can’t decide if his face is wet from sweat or tears. Maybe both. Either way, he rubs at his face with a shaking hand.

Hunter takes a step toward him, and Echo swallows, averting his eyes to the tangle of blankets only half covering him now. “Can I sit next to you, vod?” Hunter asks.

Brother.

Echo nods again, but Hunter still approaches slowly, like Echo’s a wounded animal about to lash out with teeth and claws. He kneels next to the bunk and puts out his hand, palm up. An offering. Echo takes it, gripping Hunter’s gloved hand so tight the fabric protests. “This is real,” Hunter murmurs. “You’re safe.”

“I’m safe,” the ARC echos softly. He sniffs. He is definitely crying. Kriff.

“This hasn’t happened in a while,” Hunter comments gently.

Echo tips his head back against the wall. “I thought I was getting better.” He glances at Hunter. “Did Omega hear anything?”

“Yeah,” Hunter admits, “she came and got me.”

Echo curses. “Hope I didn’t scare her too badly.”

“You didn’t,” Omega says from the doorway, her body pressed against the frame. “I was just worried about you.”

“I’m fine, kid,” Echo says. He releases Hunter’s hand and tries to wipe the dampness from his face again. “Just a bad dream.”

Omega smiles at him. “It’s okay if you’re not, though,” she says.

Echo blinks. Damn it. The kid was going to make him start bawling again. He returns her smile shakily but doesn’t trust himself to say anything, so he gives her a tight nod. That seems to be enough, because after another flash of a smile, she’s gone, called away by Tech in the cockpit, by design, Echo thinks distantly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunter asks.

Echo shakes his head, the residual emotions of betrayal lingering in the corners of his mind. That wasn’t real, he reminds himself firmly. This is real.

“Okay, that’s fine,” Hunter says. He stands up, puts a heavy hand on Echo’s shoulder for a moment, then follows Omega out of the room, leaving Echo alone.

He focuses on the sound of the ship around him, takes a steadying breath. This is real.

END

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink

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#Whumptober 2023 #Day 30 #Prompt 31 #I thought I was getting better #Setbacks #Star Wars the Bad Batch #Star Wars #The Bad Batch #Nightmares #decommissioning #TBB Echo #TBB Hunter #TBB Omega #Echo needs a hug #Soft Hunter #Sweet Omega (as if there’s any other version of her really…)

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Hello! If you are still taking Bingo requests, would you please consider doing "you're never going to believe this" with Hunter? All I can picture with this is that scene from Community with the guy walking in with the pizza to find utter chaos has broken out. I think it would be great with Doc but please do as you'd like. Thank you! :)

"You're not going to believe this" - CRB

Okay so maybe it was just the topic. Cranked this baby out yesterday, but was too tired to proofread, so yuh get a morning update!

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved!

Clone x Reader Bingo!

Warnings: Fighting, broken nose, blood, light medical procedures, mild guilt, bit of sexual tension, reference to bullying

WC: 3,797

“It’s actually been quite the subject of controversy among numerous scientific circles.” Tech didn’t bother looking up from his datapad as he rambled, food untouched on the tray before him as his leg bounced with an eager anticipation that shook the entire bench. “The planet has long been presumed to sustain intelligent life, but, despite several well-supplied scouting expeditions, not so much as a broken piece of pottery has been found to support that theory.”

“We’re not going there to search for new sentient species, Tech.” Echo reminded, words torn between a weary exasperation and the fond smirk touching his lips.

“It would be unwise to rule out the possibility of unknown lifeforms being responsible for the disappearances we are being sent to investigate.” The pilot rebuked, glancing up from the screen with a look of petulant determination that left me biting back a grin. As though only just remembering that we were in the dining hall after his meal happened to enter his line of sight, he absently reached out to take a quick bite of what I hesitated to call ‘pudding’ before returning to his research.

“Are there any other theories on what happened to the last two squads sent down there?” I asked, knowing he’d be only too happy to grant me everything known about our next assignment that was conveniently omitted from the mission report.

“The precious metals they were sent to find are notoriously difficult to detect with long-range scanners and have proven… troublesome in large quantities as their magnetic qualities can impair proximity sensors and even short-range coms.” My lips tensed into a thin line, just managing to refrain from letting my face twist into the fear that threatened to flood my veins with adrenaline, pointedly ignoring Echo’s apologetic cringe.

“So, they crashed.” I stated bluntly.

“Likely, yes.” He answered without hesitation, attention never wavering from whatever document had captured his interest. I drew a deep, slow breath before speaking again.

“Tech.” The crispness with which I called his name immediately pulled his gaze toward me. “I want you to lie to me and promise me you won’t crash the ship.” I stated with neither shame nor apology, carefully emotionless expression unchanged beneath the flash of confusion that stole through him.

“…That seems… counterintuitive…” He objected.

“Yup.” The word left in a quick chirp. I watched his jaw shift, as though testing various responses as his mind worked over what, exactly, I was asking for.

“I,” he started slowly, “am fully aware of the potential dangers, and, as such, will be far better equipped to anticipate and safely navigate any undocumented mineral deposits.” Echo turned purposefully toward his own meal in a vain attempt to hide his smile.

“Thank you, Tech.” He hesitated a moment longer, confusion almost worsened by my routine reply.

Even above the roar of countless soldiers conversing and squabbling about us, the bark of laughter rang with painful clarity. I didn’t try to keep from glancing toward it, but, the instant I saw the slump of Wrecker’s shoulders as he made his way towards us with his second tray of rations, the way his gaze seemed to carefully avoid looking anywhere he might accidentally meet someone’s eyes, sent my heart racing, blood warming beneath a quiet rage.

“Hunter and Crosshair still stuck in tha’ meeting?” He asked, vainly forcing some hint of nonchalance into his voice.

“Yeah; no word yet on when they’ll finish.” Echo answered, offering a sympathetic smile to his brother as the tall clone sat just opposite him at our table.

“It is unlikely”

“What did he say?” Despite the way those words left in a whisper, it was enough to silence Tech instantly. I felt the soft smile settle over my lips as I looked up to find Wrecker chewing nervously on his lip, searching for any excuse to dismiss my concerns. “What did he say, Wrecker?” I asked again in a gentle murmur. He finally gave a dismissive shrug.

“Nothin’, really… jus’ the usual ‘all brawns, no brains’ stuff – wasn’ even that funny.” He tried to brush it off, but he still wouldn’t quite look at me.

“Oh no.” I drawled in some pathetic mockery of remorse as I swatted the remaining half of my bowl of ‘veggie crisps’ onto the floor, “Guess I should get something to clean this up.” I was halfway across the room by the time they recovered enough to react.

“Uh… sh… should we…” Wrecker started, stammering slightly. The table with the man who’d insulted him all turned to me as I approached, each of them sporting some combination of curiosity and haughty excitement, some even blowing kisses. I said nothing as the one I was focused on turned to see what his brothers were staring at, offering no warning as my fist lashed out, driven by the full force of my body coiling behind the strike.

“Yeah – yup. Kriff.” I only vaguely heard the screech of chairs over Echo’s gasped reply as they jumped to their feet, but my focus was locked on the clone before me, on the rush of crimson flooding his lip and slipping between his fingers as he belatedly threw himself to his feet, reaction just slow enough for me to get another hit in. He nearly dodged it, but my knuckles still grazed his brow enough to split the skin.

“Not so clever now, are you?” I snarled, rushing forward in feint to punch him again. He swung his arm up to deflect it, granting me ample opening to slam my forehead into his already ruined nose. I didn’t hear the chorus of shouting around me. Someone grabbed my arms, hauling me back.

“Say it again!” I roared, thrashing in a vain effort to tear myself free, only vaguely noting that the man restraining me wasn’t one of mine. “Say it again! I’ll make sure you have to drink those damn ration bars for the a month!” A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed that Echo, Tech and Wrecker were straining to fight their way through the crowd of regs that swarmed the pathways between tables for a better view.

“Hunter, yuh might… might wanna get down here quick.” Wrecker’s voice carried easily over the deafening cacophony of shouts and jeers booming through the massive room. I couldn’t make out even the deep hum of Hunter’s reply, but nearly chuckled at what Wrecker said next, “Yeah… you’re not gonna believe this…”

The clone I’d struck finally regained his composure and stormed toward me, lips twisted into a scowl as he drew a sharp breath, but I didn’t care to allow him time for whatever attempt at a reprimand he intended. In a single, fluid motion, I careened my head back to crash into the face of the man holding me at the same time as I drove my heel down atop his foot. Caught off-guard by the assault, his hold loosened just enough to throw myself forward, tackling my target to the ground.

The violent huff of air being forced from his lungs was satisfying in a way few things are, but I allowed myself not even a moment’s pause to enjoy it before twisting to wrench his arm up, locking it between my thighs as I jerked his hand toward my chest, straining the elbow with just enough force to draw a bark of pain from him. I knew he was barely fledged, knew he likely wouldn’t even be fit to leave Kamino for several months, and I’d used that knowledge mercilessly. He was cocky and brash, and he was certain to underestimate me. Against a fully trained soldier, I’d have stood no chance, but one hindered by youth and overconfidence…

“Doc! Stand! Down!” Hunter shouted every word, forcing himself through the crowd toward me, and I almost felt some hint of remorse at the anger in his eyes. In the torrent of my own rage, however, I held the foolish soldier for just a moment longer. “Now!” He growled, stalking across those final feet between us. Only then did I notice how near the others were, hands flared, uncertain how best to help as they stared at me in shock.

Finally, I released him, making no move to stand as the clone threw himself clear of me, strained arm held tightly to his chest. Without a word, Hunter grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. I didn’t try to fight him as he turned and dragged me from the mess hall.

While our barracks was far from nearby, I was still slightly surprised when he veered away from it toward the hanger. Still, that silence lingered between us through each endless minute. His grip never left my arm, but, the instant we were out of sight of the others, his touch had softened into something I couldn’t bring myself to want to pull away from, allowing him to guide me through the maze of immaculately kept identical hallways, across the open expanse of the nearly empty hanger, and up the ramp into the relative privacy of the Marauder’s cabin.

The instant that ramp closed behind us, shrouding the room in a darkness the emergency lights did little to lessen, the instant we were hidden from wandering eyes, he wrenched me against him, arm locking around my back as his other hand tangled into my hair in a desperate embrace. I could feel the faintest shutter in the deep sigh the escaped him, felt the warmth of his breath flutter atop my scalp sending a flush of gooseflesh across my skin; felt his lips rest lightly atop the crown of my head as he curled subtly around me, and I couldn’t help but freeze.

“Are you okay?” The depth of concern in those whispered words left me staggering. His hand slipped free of my hair to gently cup my cheek, leaning back just enough to meet my gaze. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

“Y… yeah.” I was surprised to find how my voice caught, stammering slightly. “Hunter, I’m… I’m fine.” I tried to reassure him, reaching up to let my fingers trail softly over his wrist in an innate need to offer some manner of comfort in the face of his… what? Fear? Was he afraid?

He let out another deep breath, shoulders sinking as some of the tension coiling through his powerful form began to ease, but he didn’t pull away from me.

“When Wrecker said you’d gotten into a fight with a reg…” He started, trying, failing, to explain, but he didn’t need to say more. I knew what horrors plagued his memories of such things; knew why, even now, such a rift lay between his brothers and most every other clone born of Fett’s DNA.

“Didn’t think you’d find me torturing one in an arm bar?” I offered with a small smile, and he left out a reluctant scoff.

“No.” He admitted quietly, but then he fell back into that silence, jaw tensing as he thought carefully over his words before granting them voice. “You got lucky, Doc… and you know that.” An apology just lingered beneath the unmistakable accusation, and I couldn’t dismiss the way my chest tightened at the truth in his words.

“Yeah.” I whispered, refusing to turn away from him even in the admission of my foolishness because he and I both knew I didn’t regret it. I knew no clone would have killed me under those circumstances; however, one with more experience, one who’d seen the horrors of war and knew not to hesitate… His thumb swept slowly over my cheek, touch barely caressing my skin as though he were worried even that might break me.

With a final sigh, he stepped back, hands dragging against me greedily for those fleeting seconds of contact before turning his gaze toward the aft of the ship.

“Come on.” He murmured, already treading down the hallway. I paused for just a moment before following a few steps behind him. He’d already retrieved my scanner by the time we reached the medbay.

“Your hands.” He explained at my confusion. I glanced down, hands flaring out between us to find the skin atop several knuckles torn and smeared in blood that had long since darkened into a tacky coating already beginning to flake at the edges. Without waiting for me to get over that initial shock, he swept the device over them in search of fractures, and I didn’t need to read the results. The relief that stole through him confirmed little more than soft tissue had been injured.

“I can do that, Hunter.” Even as the claim left my lips, I knew it was useless as he gathered what basic supplies were needed to tend the minor wounds. He merely let out a quiet hum in response, already reaching for my left hand. Resigned, I merely watched in silence as he carefully cleaned away the blood before covering each knuckle in a fine layer of bacta and wrapped them with a precision that spoke of a lifetime of treating this exact injury.

When he let his eyes wander back to mine, he again brought his hand up to slide over my cheek, and I couldn’t dismiss the way my heart jumped, but then he drew a rag up to sweep over my forehead and I was briefly shocked to see the crimson stain the fabric, but then his brows drew together in confusion.

“Did you… You headbutt him?” He asked skeptically, and I couldn’t help the quiet laughter from escaping me. With another scoff, he dragged the cloth once more over my skin to rid the final traces of blood before releasing me.

“They changed the schedule. We’re leaving tonight.” He stated, absently cleaning up the mess of used supplies as he spoke. “Think you can finish restocking by then?” Swallowing back the lingering thrill from his touch, the chill I so wanted to pretend didn’t exist in that very moment he’d turned away from me, I had to tear my gaze away from those powerful hands before I could answer him.

“Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem.” I replied, finally drawing some motion into my limbs to help him finish up.

“Alright; I’ll go fill the others in. We’ll meet you back here.” He paused after into a single step into the main hall. “No more picking fights.” The weariness in his voice nearly managed to silence my rebuttal. As I drew breath to argue, the hint of a glare that narrowed his eyes proved enough to stifle that final trace of rebellion urging me to justify my actions. Still, I granted myself a short huff of air in an unspoken rebuttal, and the way his shoulders shook beneath a nearly suppressed chuckle left my heart soaring.

-

The crate beside me was quickly filling up as I loaded it with various goods, mindlessly checking my list every few minutes to keep track of my progress. The sound of the door hissing open didn’t warrant even a fleeting thought. This was one of the main supply stores. It wasn’t uncommon to find numerous people in here at once. Only when that deep voice I’d heard countless times from countless faces breached the stillness of the large, cluttered room did I finally grant them any notice.

“Hey, you got a minute?” The innate openness in my expression as I turned to answer the clone instantly hardened upon recognizing the split eyebrow and freshly broken nose, but he quickly raised his hands in a plea for peace. “I’m not here to fight.” He reassured me quietly. I studied him in silence for a moment longer before letting my gaze soften slightly. I loathed the twinge of guilt that twisted through my chest at the painful swelling plaguing his nose, at the dark bruises stretching up his eyes, and I couldn’t bring myself to simply leave it. With a slow breath, I reached down to close the crate.

“Sit.” It wasn’t quite an order, but neither was it an invitation.

“What?” The word fell from his lips before his mind had fully processed what I’d said, and, without my needing to repeat myself, moved to obey me. Helping myself to the supplies around us, I began with his brow. While it had clearly been granted a rushed cleaning earlier, I addressed it as I would any wound until it was neatly sutured before turning my attention to his nose.

Whatever reason he’d actually sought me out seemed to vanish as he sat frozen beneath my ministrations, eyes just a bit too wide, breath just shy of shallow, pointedly trying to look anywhere but me aside from the accidental glance the left him quickly turning away, cheeks flushing.

“Do you know what chemical you can add to a droid popper to turn it into an incendiary grenade?” I asked without preamble, delicately palpating his nose with my thumb to gauge the severity of the break. The instant his attention shifted, mind flitting between focusing on my voice and thinking over the question itself, I quickly wrenched the cartilage straight, tucking a rag against it to catch the fresh surge of blood before he’d even finished biting back the sharp grunt of pain. I cocked my brow expectantly when he looked back up at me.

“Uh… n… no.” He finally muttered, clearly fighting the urge to grind his teeth.

“Hold this.” I instructed, shifting the cloth slightly. Once his hand replaced mine, I began applying a thick layer of bacta over the inflamed skin.

“Know who does?” I continued as though nothing had happened. I saw the moment understanding swept through him, and he yielded beneath the need to tense his jaw, gaze quickly dropping to the far corner of the floor. “What’s your position in your squad?” His tongue darted out to wet his lips, mind churning in a vain attempt to anticipate why I’d asked.

“Heavy gunner.” He answered, and I was surprised to find his voice free of resentment, to hear a softness in the following silence as he waited for me to speak.

“I assume you’re the only heavy gunner in your batch?” He nodded, glancing almost timidly up at me. “Having that specialty… do you think you make your squad stronger because of it?” There. Before I’d even finished the question, his eyes nearly closed, shoulders falling slightly. He was young and impulsive, but he clearly wasn’t as foolish as I’d initially written him off to be. Even as he reached the conclusion I’d yet to voice, he maintained that quiet, granting me as much time as I wanted to breathe life into some grand meaning.

“Wrecker’s quick thinking and kindness in addition to his strength have saved my life several times during this war.” I continued, carefully applying adhesive strips across the bridge of his nose to stabilize the cartilage while it healed. “If you hurt him again, you’re going to need more than a tube of bacta to patch you up.” I spoke those final words as a simple statement of fact as I stepped away. His head tilted down slightly in a useless attempt to hide the grin he couldn’t quite fight back.

“How’s the elbow?” His gaze flicked back up me to before turning to the joint. He briefly stretched it before answering.

“A bit stiff, but it’ll be fine by morning. That’s not the first time I’ve been caught in one of those.” He explained, and I could hear the smirk still playing with his lips.

“Good.” I chirped, “then get up – I still have work to do.” He didn’t move for a fraction of a second before quickly jumping to his feet.

“Um, I can… I can help.” He offered, “Least I can do since you spent all that time fixing me up.” I nearly turned him away, but I was in a bit of a rush. Just as I began to respond, however, his com chimed with an incoming message. The rueful look that he shot me left me rolling my eyes as I nodded toward the exit dismissively.

“Oh,” He called, pausing halfway through the door. “What chemical is it?” It took a moment for me to realize what he was asking, but then I gave him a halfhearted shrug.

“You’d have to ask him.” I answered. “I have no idea.” His grin fell for barely half a beat before returning with renewed vigor.

“I will.”

Mere seconds after he left, the door slid open once more. Brow hitched, I glanced up expecting to find that same clone returning, but was surprised to see Crosshair stepping into the room just enough to lean back against the wall.

“Flirting with regs, now?” The familiar rasp of his voice held the faintest hint of resentment that almost gave me pause.

“I swear, you’ve got to be the only person I know to mistake ‘threatening’ with ‘flirting’.” I nearly groaned before resuming my task.

“No mistaking his grin…” He retorted, and I could feel the unspoken words sitting like poison in his throat, but he forced himself to remain silent, instead reaching into a pocket to grasp a toothpick.

“Did you just come here to throw accusations around, Crosshair?” I sighed wearily, unwilling to devote the energy into bashing my head against a wall in some futile effort to change his mind.

“Hunter sent me a com; said I should keep an eye on you. Clearly, there was nothing to worry about.” He added, narrowed eyes shifting back to mine as he flicked the sliver of wood over his lips. Returning his glare, I roughly dropped the box of fresh bandages into the crate.

“If you want to be jealous and pouty, go ahead.” I sighed dismissively as I turned away from him. The silence lingered heavily between us, but I refused to grant him the satisfaction of yielding beneath it. When I finally finished my list and hoisted the crate up to lean against my chest, he finally spoke.

“Were you?” I paused midstep at the quiet question, shifting to find him staring blindly at some distant point past my hip.

“Was I what?” I pressed when he offered nothing more.

“Flirting.” I nearly dropped the crate.

“Uh, n… no, Cross.” I answered, cursing the heat crawling up my neck. Without a word, he pushed himself away from the wall and, with just a few long strides, tread towards me. I barely had time to think before he was pulling the box from my grasp and found myself staring dumbly at the broad expanse of his shoulders as he began walking down the hall. Forcing myself to draw a steadying breath, I followed quickly behind him.

Continue Reading

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#doc hit first #CFB2023 #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #clonexreaderbingo #clone x reader #first person reader #tbb #star wars #star wars fanfiction #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #medical procedure #broken noise #blood #light guilt #reference to bullying #soft hunter

[yardsards]

the owl house really said "familial love is stored in a gifted garment"

EDIT: forgot one! thanks @cat-eared-exam-taker

#eliot posts #toh #the owl house #i was on the fence abt including either of the examples w amity and the twins #(esp the concealment stones bc idk if they even count as garments) #but i figured in both cases helping her be gay and do crimes is very much a form of affection from them even if less soft than the others #eda clawthorne #luz noceda #emira blight #edric blight #amity blight #darius toh #hunter toh #king clawthorne #alador blight #i want dadrius to get hunter a new cloak SO BAD #ive mentioned it before but i always go wild when stuff like this happens in fiction #bc i've always loved lending my jackets/shawls/scarves/hats/gloves to my irl friends #makes me feel like im protecting them and keeping them safe #and i knit and sometimes sew so p much all of my irl friends have AT LEAST gotten a hat #but i made of of them a long forest green cloak which he loved #it always makes me feel SO WARM INSIDE when i see someone wearing something i made them #but even seeing them wear things like friendship bracelets kinda makes me feel that way #i like having kinda made my mark on them even when not keeping them warm/covering them #not in a possessive ''show everyone that you're mine!'' way. none of it visibly ties back to me #(except in hs when i'd lend them my letterman's jacket w my surname on it) #but i know it's from me and they know it's from me and they chose to put that onto themself #my love language is acts of service and that's what i'm doing when i make someth handmade or lend em someth practical #but they can recieve it as gift-giving or a stand-in for physical affection. which both VERY MUCH do not come naturally to me

[fanfictasia]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CT-9904 | Crosshair & Clone Trooper Hunter, 99 & CT-9904 | Crosshair & Clone Trooper Hunter & Clone Trooper Tech & Clone Trooper Wrecker Characters: Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch Shenanigans, POV Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Vampire Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch, Vampire Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Soft Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Feral Behavior, Vampires, non-consensual biting, Blood Drinking, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, Family, Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch as Family, The Author Regrets Nothing, Hopeful Ending, Soft Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch) Series: Part 1 of Blood-Bound, Part 3 of The Vampire (Blood) Batch

Summary:

It was supposed to be a simple mission, but it quickly spirals downhill when Crosshair seemingly randomly and unexpectedly bites Hunter. Because apparently, he got turned into a vampire when he was briefly captured by the local creatures. And now, Hunter is transforming as well. Oh well. Just another crazy day in their lives, Hunter supposes.

Read on:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14257404/1/Blood-Bound

https://www.wattpad.com/1363662894-star-wars-one-shots-blood-bound

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #the bad batch #hunter #crosshair #wrecker #tech #fluff #family #hunter and crosshair #crosshair and wrecker #crosshair and tech #wrecker and hunter #tech and hunter #bad batch #soft hunter #soft crosshair #vampire au #vampires #vampire crosshair #non-consensual biting #blood drinking #hopeful ending #pov hunter