#clone trooper cradle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrcaptainrex · 1 year

Text

You Had One Job.

Crosshair x F!Wife!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Established Relationship, Dry/Rude Humor, Mentions of Blood

Summary: When Crosshair risked his life to send his brothers and wife a message, he expected them to heed his warnings. He should have known that his family never does things the way they're supposed to.

A/N: You know when you can never find a fanfic with your specific idea in mind so you write it yourself? That's what this is. This is purely self indulgent, and I'm not apologizing. Happy reading!

"Keep moving, traitor!" The trooper shouted from behind her, and pushed his blaster to her back for good measure.

"Wasn't planning on stopping, asshole." She mumbled to herself. The corridor was dark. The only real source of illumination was the blood-red ray shields containing what must have been hundreds of clone troopers. How could they do this to the men that fought for them so valiantly, not even a year prior? It disgusted her that the Empire was willing to treat its own soldiers this way.

"Stop here." One of the troopers finally barked. She stopped and turned towards the ray shield, but the cell was different than the others. It looked almost like an office. In the center of the room, a man leaned on the desk with a pleased smirk on his face. As the ray shield lifted and she was shoved in the room, she analyzed his face. He had a chiseled jawline, cold blue eyes, and slicked back hair as dark as his aura.

"Ah, the legendary Mrs. (Y/N) (L/N). How wonderful to finally meet you." He smiled. His voice was just as eerily calm as the look in his eyes. She couldn't quite place his intentions.

"Dr. Hemlock, I presume?" She asked.

He let out a slight chuckle. "I am surprised you know that. Very few do."

"Wasn't easy to find out. I actually came here to kill you, but your troopers here took my weapons." The doctor circled her menacingly, as if he was analyzing her.

Hemlock released the handcuffs strangling her wrists and motioned for her to sit. "I'm sorry they ruined your plans. But you and I both know you don't need a weapon to kill me. You could do it right now if you wanted to." As she sat tentatively, he sat on the chair opposite her side of the desk. "And it's getting ever more tempting by the moment, I bet." He teased. She forced herself to appear relaxed, but something about this man felt off.

"I have more self-restraint than that, Doctor."

"Clearly you don't have as much as you think."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Gladly." Hemlock placed a recorder before her and pressed the button.

Plan 88. They're after Om-

Hemlock let the transmission play a few times, allowing her husbands plea to mock her. He took pleasure in the way she became visibly uncomfortable at the sound of her husbands voice.

"I understand. It must have been hard when he abandoned you." If looks could kill, Hemlock would have been slowly crushed under the weight of a tank.

"You don't know him." She hissed. He nodded his head regretfully.

"Correct. Which is what I'm hoping you can help me with." Hemlock stood behind her and bent down so he spoke directly into her ear. "How do I get him to talk?"

"Did you try saying 'please'?" She said sarcastically.

The doctor released a heavy sigh and stood tall again. "I like you, Mrs. (L/N). You're quite funny. But humor and a pretty face will not help you here."

Despite the threat behind his words, she couldn't help but snort. "You really think I'm pretty?" This time, the Doctor did not laugh. He turned to face her again and grabbed her chin, harshly forcing her to look at him.

"Not for long." He said calmly. As he drew his hand away, the woman saw an opportunity. As hard as she could, she bit the Doctor's finger and refused to let go. His yelp of pain alerted the troopers standing guard outside the room. It took both of them to pull her teeth from his finger.

As Hemlock cradled his bleeding hand, she spat his blood and skin from her mouth with a red-stained grin. "Go fuck yourself, Doctor." The last thing she remembered was a harsh force to the back of her head, and falling to the ground.

Growing up, Crosshair believed there were two kinds of soldiers: brave, or stupid. Then he met his wife and learned there was a third option: ballsy. He never considered himself one to shy away from a fight, but he'd never met a woman as daring as her. That was once a trait he admired. Hell, it may even be the one that made him fall in love with her. But now, as he watched his wife's unconscious body be thrown into his prison cell, covered in the blood of a fight she undoubtedly started, he wished dearly that she was a coward.

He forced himself to stay seated on the ground until the troopers left. The moment the ray-shield reactivated, he crawled to her awakening body and held her close.

"(Y/N)? Can you hear me?" He cradled her head in his lap like she was made of glass and delicately brushed her tangled hair from her face. "Wake up, you di'kuit!" He inspected the blood seeping from her mouth, and couldn't help the proud feeling was over him as he realized it wasn't hers.

"Crosshair?" She croaked weakly. She felt like she was dreaming. After a year of being away from him, she finally lay cradled in his arms.

Upon hearing her voice, He helped her sit up and began inspecting her body for injuries. "Are you hurt?" He asked. She had never heard him speak with such concern. Sure, he'd been worried for her before. That was only natural in their line of work. But this wasn't worry. This was genuine fear.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "I'm okay." Her words calmed him. However, as his adrenaline wore off, the realization set in

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" He whispered loudly.

Well at least now she could be sure it wasn't a dream. That was definitely her Cross.

Like a child, she swatted his hands away from her face and pouted. “I was trying to save you!”

He looked around the cell, and back at her. “Well, you've done a great job, mesh’la.” He leaned back from his squatting position and sat against the wall opposite her. They stared at each other in tense silence for a moment. "You turned yourself in?"

"Please, you think these new 'stormtroopers' could bring me in by themselves?" His face expressed that he was clearly not pleased with his lovers actions.

"Could you explain to me how 'plan 88' translates to 'turn yourself in to the empire'?" He deadpanned.

She snorts. "Oh please, a warning is just a dangerous challenge."

Her carelessness did little to relieve his frustration. "Dammit, (Y/N) you had one job!" He snapped. Feeling his anger begin to take over, he took a deep breath and pinched the top of his nose. "I told you to run."

"And I told you to stay, so I guess know we're even." She rebutted bitterly. She didn't mean to say it, but the way that he reprimanded her like a child enraged her.

Her spiteful response surprised him. He went silent in shame. He never meant for any of this to happen. He wanted so desperately to go back in time. To stand in front of her on that Kaminoan platform one more time and hold her close. To tell her that he would never leave her side again. But unlike his lover, time was not so forgiving. "I'm sorry." He whispered so quietly she barely heard him.

She regretted her words as soon as she saw him shrink like a wounded dog. With a sigh, she scooted across the room until she was sitting next to him. "I really missed you." She said quietly. He looked up at her beautiful warm eyes with his own and practically melted. She cautiously rested her head on his shoulders and relished in the familiar feeling. For the first time a very long time, he allowed a tear to fall from his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to look down at her. Instead he opted to stare at the ceiling in hopes that gravity would keep his tears at bay. He didn't deserve this. Her forgiveness. He hurt her badly, and somehow she was able to act like nothing had happened. Why was she so good to him? Hesitantly, he leaned into her warmth and placed his hand over hers. When she didn't recoil, he felt a wave of emotions overcome him.

"I'm so sorry." He said quietly. "You deserve better."

She lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled up at him. "You are better." She responded.

He was sure he had never been more in love with her.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

Instead of responding, she gently held his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. It wasn't like their kisses used to be - passionate and hungry. This time, his lips slowly and tenderly molded into hers with nothing but pure love. With every second that went on, his body and mind relaxed more and more. He could taste the dried blood from her mouth, but even that didn't bother him.

Suddenly, a familiar imperial alarm began sounding off, followed by emergency lights flashing. The desire in his eyes faded, and confusion took it's place. His wife, however, looked completely unfazed.

"What did you do?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Remember that digestible tracker Tech was always working on?"

"Please tell me you didn't swallow a tracker."

"He made it meiloorun flavored!" She smiled.

As if on cue, the ray shield to their cell disappeared. "They boys are right on schedule." She stood and offered him a hand to do the same. While he struggled to regain his balance, her grip on his hand remained. "Welcome back to Clone Force 99, my love."

He gawked in amazement at his wife. This woman had been tortured, abandoned, betrayed and humiliated by him. And yet here she stood, after breaking into a top secret imperial base, with her hand extended and a still-bloody smile on her face. (Where that blood came from, he still wasn't sure.) If he could marry her twice he would. "Fuck, I love you so much." He exhaled as he wrapped himself in her embrace and felt relief for the first time in a long time.

#crosshair #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair #the bad batch #bad batch #bad batch x reader #clone force 99 #x reader #female reader #star wars #star wars clone wars #star wars clones #bad batch season 2

581 notes · View notes

sinfulsalutations · 1 year

Text

𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴛᴇᴄʜ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ꜱʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ. ꜱʜᴇ'ʟʟ ʟᴇᴛ ʜɪᴍ ʙʟᴀʙ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɪᴛꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴏᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ, ʜɪꜱ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴄᴜᴛᴇꜱʏ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ, ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ (ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀ)ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ, ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀɪᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴇꜱʜᴇʀ, ᴛᴇᴄʜ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀᴅʜᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴀʟᴋꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 2.4ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴇʟꜰ ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴛ. ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴀ ꜱʜɪᴛ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄʀɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ ɪ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀꜱᴛ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍꜱ. ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ, ɪ ꜰɪʀᴍʟʏ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴇᴄʜ ɪꜱ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʙʙ ɪꜱ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴏɴ ʜɪᴀᴛᴜꜱ ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴀʀᴍꜱ. ɪᴅᴋ ɪꜰ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟꜱᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏʀ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀꜱ ɪ ᴅᴏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ :)

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

It’s suffocating.

Everything is too much, not stimulating enough, too little, too... everything. She's cradling herself like a baby, a whiny little kid, grasping herself, gripping it with sharp nails, leaving deep, deep marks all over her skin. The claustrophobic air cages her in, she is trapped, she is trying to escape, and now it taints her.

But maybe she’s just overreacting. That must be it. That’s why she feels stupid and silly. Like a little kid stomping their foot when they don't get their way. Being dramatic over little things. Just little things she's upset about; little, little, minuscule things that had piled up, slowly until it was too much. It's too much. It's all so much that she's so little, so small in her own arms pressed up against the `fresher wall, barely able to hold herself up with wobbly knees as she cries.

Silently. So so silently.

She can’t be a burden. It would be insultingly rude, to put that responsibility of her happiness on the people letting her stay on their ship. Clone Force 99 is incredibly hospitable to her. Too kind. They gave her a cot and food, company and kindness in exchange for her expertise in medicine. She is an asset. She is useful. And when she isn't?

That, she can't be certain. Not everyone is the same, she knows that. But she won't risk it. Not when she's become attached to their little family. Hunter is always endlessly caring, even if she is closer to a stranger than family to him. Wrecker immediately took a liking to her, even if she did have a softer voice and disposition. It took Echo a little longer to warm up to her, but enough restless nights for the both of them to talk about their lives before joining the batch had brought the two as close as she was with the rest. And she simply adored Omega; from her curiosity and optimism, even to her brash stubbornness.

And Tech... she couldn't imagine a day not getting to see his face, hear him talk about anything and everything he has learned and studied. His voice was another form of remedy. Perhaps it might help with this frustration...

Knowing all of this, she won't take a chance at losing it. She wants to stay somewhere, for once. She's not going to kriff it up this time.

She tries to bottle it up. She sniffles once, twice, before grabbing a dry towel and dabbing it in water, softly wiping away at her tears in the mirror until her reddened cheeks blend nicely with the rest of her complexion. Once she feels fully satisfied with the way she looks, she blinks away any remaining water droplets that litter her eyelashes like raindrops on leaves and tries her best to smile in the mirror.

Everything is okay, she thinks. It’ll be fine.

She’s still relieved, however, that most of the batch isn’t currently on the ship. Usually, she would have gone off to Cid's and maybe grab a drink before listening, as always, to what the smart little trooper had to say. Hunter has caught on and began leaving the two in their strange, dorky little bubble tucked into a little booth, her open ears and his excited chatter.

Today, the only person who didn't go back to Cid's (or to chomp on Mantell Mix) is her and Tech, who works on damage inflicted on the outside of the Marauder. They've just got back from a rather chaotic attempt to retrieve some goods from a back-alley planet Cid sent them to. Wrecker was able to secure the crates, but not without a gang of pirates firing old-fashioned arrows in his direction until they tore at the exterior and into the inner mechanics of the ship. And as usual, Tech insisted to stay back and fix it all by himself (You all could have the rest, he said).

She wouldn’t say she was most particularly fond of Tech, but that would be a bald-faced lie; she loved all of the boys like they were her brothers. Though, perhaps with him it is different. Just perhaps. Perhaps, right? Unless it was more- kriff, it probably is.

Especially ever since she saw him without his goggles for the first time; she was able to see that hue of brown that colored his eyes so well. He was rubbing his eyes and yawning as he went to clean them, and he hadn’t even noticed her ogling eyes from a few feet away. Omega certainly did. And asked her about it the next chance she got.

“Do you like Tech?”

When she didn't respond, she only kept nagging.

"You do like Tech, don't you?"

"That's why you like to look at him so much, right?"

Yeah. She loves the kid, but her endless questions did end up getting to her. So Omega might have given her a cheeky look when she said she was going to stay back as well. Oh, if that was the only reason she had decided not to come along with the rest.

But it all leads to right now, admiring him from afar while leaning against the open ramp. It takes him a moment to notice, still very focused on the task at hand, on his knees in front of an open panel and he quickly turns, blinking rapidly in succession and in surprise.

“Oh-” He begins, before quickly clearing his throat and continuing, acting less shocked than before. He adds her name quickly in before, and treads so lightly on it too, as if he was unsure if he was allowed to call her by that. “Hello. I forgot you stayed back.”

She chuckles lightly and walks closer to where he worked, watching his clever and dexterous fingers move swiftly.

“So I’m that quiet?”

He shrugs.

“You can be swift when it requires you to be,” He observes, finally looking up into her eyes. The look he gives her, one of full undivided attention, makes her heart miss a couple of notes on the staff. He continues without noticing her hitched breath. “But I wouldn’t say you are… quiet .”

She grins, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes are still heavy with the remnants of her tears.

“Yeah,” she mumbles, leaning back onto the Marauder and sighing, her eyes fluttering close. She tries to relax, really does, but it's hard to when Tech was right there. He still watches her and stills completely, as if he was trying to pinpoint the exact feeling on her face. “Do you mind if I just sit here?” She finally asks, eyes still closed.

With that, Tech blinks again, quickly composing himself and looking away once she opens her eyes again to appear as though he hasn’t been staring at her. He nods.

“Of course.”

She hums sweetly like a hummingbird in response and tries to get more comfortable, slowly sliding down until her bottom promptly hits the floor and she is level with his crotch, as he still kneels to gain access to the inside of the ship. And she watches for just a little, the only noise filling their bubble the noise of fuses and bolts twisting and loosening, the occasional clang of two pieces of metal here and there, even a long strenuous creak from the larger panel dismantled. He doesn't talk. She doesn't talk.

It might be quite boring in any other situation, one where she isn't feeling so helplessly overworked and burned out, or in general to any other person in her shoes, but it feels so calming just to watch. To observe and not have to react. Just be without any strings attached. His presence is calming. It’s fascinating. When she just watches him, it is uncomplicated. It is simple and it is good.

Though it isn’t enough. Something in her itches. She thinks it is physical, and she readjusts her seating position a few times, and fumbles, but it doesn’t seem to work exactly. Tech turns to her.

“Are you comfortable?” He asks.

She nods.

“Yeah, nothing to worry about,” She reassures him, and he nods accordingly.

“Good. If you need anything, please let me know,” He finishes before going back to his work. And when the talking stops completely, replaced with the crackling sounds of fizzling electricity, she realizes what feels off about the moment.

“Tech?” She starts shaky, gazing up at him slightly worried. Tech stops completely; his hands drop and he tilts his head. He lifts up his visor to look at her better, and the simple act makes her bite back a grin. “Would you tell me something?”

At first, he just stands there, confused. His head tilts even further and makes sure to confirm.

“You, want me to talk?”

She looks at him perplexed and huffs in disbelief.

“I do,” She states simply.

"About what?" He probes further.

She shrugs.

"Anything you want. I just want to hear your voice."

He’s still confused as he looks at her through the yellow-tinted goggles. No, less confused, and more surprised. Tech turns away for a moment, trying to process the moment. A pretty girl wants him to talk… just talk about anything. And she wants to listen. Listen to what he’s been told over and over again his useless information regarding niche subjects and fields of study. He’s always seen her interest in what he’s said, yes, but he's just assumed it is common decency to listen to what someone is saying. He’s not used to his brothers actually tuning in and seeming actually interested in what he has to say. But she is. And she wants him to say more.

He always has something more to say. But now, looking back to her barely parted, pretty lips and her thoughtful eyes… Tech draws a blank.

He turns away again, fumbling with the task at hand as he tries to distract himself from it, still trying to conjure up something, anything to say to her. And she still waits, unphased by his hesitant silence as she methodically raps the pads of her fingers against her wrist. She sits as if she has all the time in the world. And if it were up to her, she would give him that.

He finally thinks of one small anecdote to share.

“... I read a fascinating historical document this morning," he says. She perks up brightly, eyes lighting up with excitement as he begins.

“You did?” She says.

He nods in confirmation. The coy smile matched with tied lips she wears across her face is undeniable; even he can see it in the corner of his eye as he works. He tries not to let it get to his head.

“Can you tell me more?” she continues.

Tech hisses so quietly, the modulator under his helmet doesn’t pick it up. Thank the Maker for that.

“... It was the first recording of our modern republic system,” He does his best to recall what the document was about. “Or, what the Republic was, at least.” He looks over quickly for reassurance that this is what she wanted from him; he sees her nodding eagerly and intrigued. Oh, that only excites him more. He begins to remember more pieces of what he read once he turns away and back to the wiring in front of him, talking to her as he works. He even tries his best to slow down his pace to make it easier for her to process and understand better; though, he was unsure if it was the content that intrigued her more or simply his presence.

“The document was essentially half-transcript, half-commentary on the first galaxy-wide meetings in the Senate, and the new opinions surrounding it."

"Who wrote it?" She interjects. He blinks but doesn't tear his eyes away and toward her.

"A group of people. Transcribers from the conferences, a member of the Jedi Order, and a few prominent Coruscant state senators that oversaw them."

She hums, and from the corner of his eye, he sees her lean closer to him, sighing deeply and letting her eyes flutter as if she was breathing in the most serene scent, and not the smell of smoldering wires and oil. Perhaps in their bubble, if Tech were to take his helmet off and breathe in as well, it smells of roses.

"I cross-analyzed both sections; there weren't any higher conclusions recorded. But by using critical thinking, you can really piece together how disorderly the first few decades of the Republic were." He tries to keep working, but ends up fiddling more than actually working; if he were to complete the task, he'd be done much sooner than he wanted to; especially if it meant he'd have to stop talking to her and their bubble would pop.

"Senators of large Core planets had to try and keep the piece; many outside planets had doubts about the design and future of the Republic to be sound. And even from the beginning, there were rogue planets that refused to join entirely. I guess there were always a few ‘Separatists.’”

The comment makes her chuckle.

“That really is interesting, Tech.”

“It is! In fact I-” He begins before the realization hits him and it shuts his mouth promptly there. He looks at her, just as perplexed as she was before, but more laced with insecurity. “You… find this, interesting?”

She nods as if baffled by his question.

“If only you had me around before,” She says melancholic and softly. “I find all your interests really cool. And… I like hearing you talk.”

The admission has her flushing furiously, and Tech is too busy trying to compose himself to even kriffing notice.

“That is… good to know,” he manages to say, giving her an approving, stiff nod before going back to work. His roboticness manages to elicit a sweet giggle out of her, and she sighs into comfortable contentment as he continues talking.

Her heart soars as he keeps going on, even without her explicit request. Even if she isn’t ready to talk, or even tell him about what is going on yet, hearing him gush about his interests certainly simplifies everything in a way that perfectly fills their little world, and makes everything better for as long as they stay.

380 notes · View notes

purplefangirl42 · 5 months

Note

Hi,

If you can find time. I’d like to request from the hurt/comfort prompt with Captain Howzer & fem reader.

"Shhhhh, you're okay. You're here now. Nothing can hurt you."

Smut or whatever strikes you.

Please and thank you.😊💞

Thank you for sending this in! I'm sorry it took so long. It is a short little drabble, but I hope you like it!

Tags/Warnings: Slight angst, themes of being trapped in a cave-in

Prompt list by silcoitus

You could hear the sound of many footsteps outside your hiding place, the noise echoing off the rocks of the surrounding cavern. In your panicked state, you couldn’t tell if they were the metallic steps of a battalion of battle droids or people coming to your rescue. Not wanting to risk it in case it was the former, you stayed very still and silent.

“I don’t think there’s anyone in here, Captain,” you heard a voice say. “Are you sure this is where the signal was coming from?”

Your heart nearly leapt from your chest at the sound of the familiar voice of a clone trooper. It truly was people coming to your rescue. Your throat felt dry as you tried to call out, so you slowly stuck your hand out of the hole in the wall you were hiding in.

“There! I see something!” another voice called out.

The footsteps you heard from before got louder as they got closer and the rocks covering your hiding place began to disappear one by one. Once the large one blocking most of the space was removed, you were able to unfold your body and nearly fell out of the enclosed space. Someone caught you before you hit the ground and held you upright. You could hear your name being called before a different pair of arms wrapped around you, holding you in a tight embrace.

As you opened your eyes again and adjusted to the light, you could see the man that held you. You traced over the scar on his jaw and your hand lifted to brush over the curls running down the center of his head. It was Howzer, he had gotten your comm and had come to save you.

“Howzer? Oh, maker I’m so glad you’re here,” you said, your voice raspy from the dust around you. “I thought I was going to be stuck down here forever.”

One of Howzer’s hands shifted from your back to cup your face, his thumb lightly brushing over your cheek. His eyes searched your face frantically, as if he couldn’t believe you were here in front of him. The love in his eyes caused your heart to swell and a dry sob escaped you. You collapsed forward, burying your head in the crook of his neck. The hand that had been on your face went to cradle the back of your head and you could hear faint shushing sounds.

“Shhhh, you’re okay. I’ve got you, you’re here now in my arms,” he said, rocking you back and forth slowly. “You’re safe, nothing can hurt you.”

Everything after that was a blur. You could faintly remember Howzer lifting you up in his arms and carrying you out of the cavern. The wind on your face from the movement of the speeder bike felt like a miracle after the dry air of the rocky cave. Even the burning sun above you felt wonderful, a contrast from the darkness you had been trapped in.

Though you had been afraid of being left alone, deep down you knew that Howzer would always find you, no matter where you were.

#star wars #star wars: the clone wars #clone troopers #captain howzer #captain howzer x reader #howzer x reader

50 notes · View notes

vodika-vibes · 2 months

Note

Tup

Fluff

Please, baby boy deserves all the kindness in the world

Femreader

All My Heart

Summary: You welcome Tup home after a long deployment.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Tup x F!Reader

Word Count: 1052

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I hope this is soft and fluffy enough!

You flutter from one side of your apartment to the other, straightening pillows that don’t need to be straightened, and adjusting flowers that don’t need to be adjusting.

You’re not nervous or anxious.

That would imply that you haven’t been looking forward to this day since the day that Tup told you that he was being deployed.

You do, however, want home to be perfect. You don’t want him to have to worry about anything.

Which means the house is spotless (it’s never been so clean in all your life), and dinner is cooking (a thick stew, using a recipe that Tup gave you when you started dating) and you’re dressed in a new dress that you hope he’ll like.

Now it’s just a waiting game.

Honestly, you’d have gone to the port to wait for him, if he wanted you to. But Tup has been kind of funny about introducing you to his brothers. Not because he’s ashamed of you, but because he wants to keep you all to himself, at least for a little while.

Your head snaps to the side when you hear someone at the door, and excited delight washes through you as the door slides open and family footsteps, lighter than you’d expect from someone wearing 80 pounds of armor, enter the hallway.

You toss the pillow you’re messing with carelessly on the couch, and ignore it as it bounces to the floor, as you step into the hallway.

And there he is.

Tup.

Your Tup.

He sets his helmet on the shelf you bought for him, and you note that he looks exhausted, and you instantly start changing plans. If your Tup needs a break then he’ll have you. You can draw a bath for him-

You adjust your weight, causing the floor to squeak, and Tup looks up from where he’s tugging off his armor.

A broad smile crosses his handsome face, “Cyare,”

“Welcome home, Tup!” You step closer to him, but wait until he removes his chest piece, before you fling your arms around his neck. “Missed you.”

Tup buries his face in your neck and inhales deeply, “Missed you too.” His arms tighten around you. As though the idea of letting you go is too heartbreaking to consider.

You pull back so you’re able to look at his face, one of your hands coming up to lightly cradle his cheek, “You look tired, love.”

“I am tired.” Tup confirms before he bumps his forehead against yours, and slides a hand over the soft material of your dress, “This is new.”

“Do you like it?”

He laughs softly, “Mesh’la, you could wear a trashbag and still be the most stunning woman on any planet.”

Your face heats, “You’re so sweet, Tup.”

“You deserve a lot more than just sweet.” Tup murmurs, ducking his head to catch your lips with his own. “Is that curry I smell?”

“Yeah. Your favorite.” You smile at him, “But you don’t have to push yourself, Tup. If you’re exhausted I can run a shower for you-”

His arms tighten around you, “You had plans?”

“Just to spend time with you. That’s all.” You press your hand against his chest, “Finish getting out of your armor, love, and get yourself comfortable. I need to go back into the kitchen.”

He kisses you one more time, and then slowly releases you. You squeeze his hands gently, and then turn back into the kitchen. You turn the heat down slightly, to give Tup some more time to decompress before he has to do anything more complicated than just exist, and then you step into the living room, and turn on some soft music.

You hear Tup in the bedroom, and you peek into the hallway to make sure his armor is stowed properly. Not that you expect him not to, but you like making sure that nothing will fall during the night.

There’s quiet noise behind you, and you turn a small grin crossing your face when you see Tup. He’s dressed down, clad in dark blue sleep pants and nothing else, while his hair is loose around his head.

He looks gorgeous.

“Well now, it looks like I’m overdressed,” You tease as you turn to face him fully.

“You look amazing,” Tup replies, his gaze warm and soft, “I just don’t want to wear anything more.”

You cross the room to him and press a feather light kiss against his collar, “You don’t have to wear more if you don’t want to.”

“You’re the best.”

A bright grin crosses your face, “I do try.” You slide your arms around his waist and lean your head against his shoulder. He smells like him. Like gun oil and the fire retardant of his blacks and the cheap shampoo that the GAR gives them, and something so uniquely Tup that you would drown yourself in it if given half the chance.

His strong hands tightly grip your hips, and you pull back to look up at him, “Something wrong?”

“It occurs to me,” Tup murmurs, the exhaustion fading slightly as he walks you into the living room properly, “That we haven’t danced in months.”

“You’ve been deployed.” You reply with a fond smile.

“Well that’s no excuse,” There’s something like mischief on his face, as he starts swaying with you to the music playing from your radio. “I should dance with you every night.”

Your hands slide from his waist to settle against his chest, “Oh? You intend to smuggle me onto the Resolute the next time you’re deployed? Hide me in your foot locker?”

His eyes sparkle with mischief, “Don’t tempt me.” His arm tightens around your waist, while his free hand comes up to caress your cheek, “I love you so much.” He whispers.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, “With everything that I am. With all of my heart.”

“You deserve more.”

“I don’t want more. I want you.”

Something akin to adoration crosses his face and he bumps his forehead against yours, “Someday, when this war is over, we’re going to move someplace better. Someplace greener.” Tup promises, “And then I’m going to marry you and give you a squad’s worth of kids.”

“That sounds like a plan to me.” You reply with a delighted smile. “I can’t wait.”

#star wars #tcw #clone trooper tup x reader #tup x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

29 notes · View notes

kybercrystals94 · 3 months

Text

Die for a Corpse

Read here on Ao3!

Febuwhump 2024 | Day 6 | Prompt 6: “You lied to me.”

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Cradling someone in their arms.

Rated: T | Words: 960 | Summary: Tech tries to help a fatally injured trooper. [Character Focus: Tech, OC]

“Medic!”

Troopers ran past, not looking at, but carefully avoiding contact with, the two clones huddled in the mud.

“Please,” the trooper sitting upright beseeched whoever might listen, “we need a medic!”

In his arms, the other clone choked for breath, a blaster hole through his chestplate. He didn’t have long. That much Tech gathered as he approached the pair. He knelt before them. “I am not a medic, but I have medical training. I will assist with whatever I can.”

“Thank you,” the reg said, adjusting his grip on his brother.

Tech gave a short nod and slid his pack off. “My name is Tech.”

“I’m Blade,” the uninjured reg said, “this is Shank.”

Shank coughed, a gurgling sound deep in his lungs. Blood dribbled ominously from the corners of his lips, but Blade quickly wiped it away, as if erasing the evidence of internal damage would be enough to save his brother. It wouldn’t be. Nothing would be enough.

“I’m going to give him a hypo for the pain,” Tech said.

“He’s going to be okay,” Blade told him. “We just need to keep him stable until we can get him to the med center.”

Tech did not answer, finding the correct hypo and injecting it into the dying clone’s neck.

“Is it safe to move him?” Blade asked. “We should probably take cover.”

Shank’s safety at this point did not worry Tech; however, for Blade’s sake, Tech said, “That would be advisable.”

Blade took his brother’s torso and Tech took Shank’s legs. The mud squelched under their boots, making it laborious to stay upright with the awkward weight between them. They managed to make it to a large rock formation that gave some barrier from the warzone raging around them.

“Tech, where are you?” Hunter’s voice filtered through his private comm channel.

Tech finished helping Blade settle Shank against the natural barrier before he picked up his comm. “I am assisting with a medical situation.” He was not going to say that he was helping a reg die comfortably, even if that was all the medical assistance he could offer in this case.

“Who’s injured?” comes Hunter’s next question.

Tech hesitated, trying to think of a way to tactfully say it wasn’t one of their brothers – one of the Batch – without causing distress to the reg hovering over his fallen comrade. “One of the company’s troopers,” he said after a moment.

“Be careful,” Hunter said, the guilted relief evident even through the static of the comm.

“Roger that,” Tech agreed before signing off. He turned his attention back to the two troopers in his company.

“Shouldn’t we staunch the wound?” Blade asked.

Shank whined and turned his head toward Blade’s voice. Blade reached out and took one of Shank’s hands. “I’m here, brother. Just hang on. You’re going to be fine.”

“No,” Shank mumbled, voice taut with pain. He knew he wasn’t going to make it, Tech realized.

“Yeah,” Blade argued gently and crawled closer to wrap an arm around Shank’s shoulders. “Yeah, you’re gonna be just fine. You’ve survived worse, huh?”

Shank managed a grin, and Tech felt his heart pang with an awful despairing emotion. Even in his last, excruciating moments, this reg tried to be strong for his brother.

Blade looked at Tech. “Aren’t you going to help him? You said you would help him!”

Tech crouched on Shank’s other side, pulling out his portable med scanner and making a show of checking over Shank’s vitals. “We can try to staunch the wound, as you said; however, the damage is extensive. I don’t believe there is anything that can be done other than to keep him comfortable.”

“You mean you’re just going to let him die?” Blade stared at Tech, slack faced, horror burning behind the shiny wetness in his eyes.

Tech wanted to argue that he wasn’t letting Shank do anything. It was entirely outside of his control. He had done as he said. He’d done what he could. There was nothing more to be done, as awful as it was.

“Bl…Blade,” Shank whispered, voice transparent and weak. “It’s okay…t’s okay.”

“No,” Blade sobbed, kneeling over Shank so that their foreheads pressed together. He had one of Shank’s hands clasped tightly in both of his. “No, you can’t leave. You can’t die.”

With obvious effort, Shank reached up with his free hand and put it over Blade’s chest plate, where his heart was. “Here…vod…”

Tech averted his gaze, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment. He tried not to imagine if the roles were reversed, if he were saying goodbye to one of his own brothers on the field. He did not succeed.

Not even a minute passed before Shank’s labored breathing ceased, and Blade’s sobs intensified. Tech was prepared to give the grieving brother a few more minutes, but the order suddenly came to fall back.

“Blade, we have to go,” he said as he stood.

Blade shook his head. “I can’t leave him here,” he choked out.

“We must,” Tech urged.

“You go! I’m not leaving him behind!” Blade screamed at him.

Tech reached out and grabbed Blade’s arm, attempted to forcibly drag the trooper to his feet. “You will not be leaving him behind! He’s already gone! He would not want you to die for his corpse!”

Harsh and bitter as the words sounded coming out of Tech’s mouth, they seemed to rally Blade to his senses. He allowed himself to be pulled up and returned his helmet to his head. Tech then shoved him ahead to prevent the soldier from possibly circling back if left unsupervised.

He couldn’t save one brother, but he could help the other survive at least one more day.

END

✨Let me know if you’d like to be on my taglist!✨

Taglist: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424

#febuwhump 2024 #febuwhumpday6 #prompt 6: you lied to me #bad things happen bingo #cradling someone in their arms #star wars #fanfiction #the bad batch #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #tbb tech #OC character death

26 notes · View notes

littlemissmanga · 11 months

Text

The Promise in Your Eyes

Pairing: Echo X Reader, @clonexreaderbingo Square: Echo

w/c: 1,444

Warnings: So much sexual tension but no sex. A shit ton of teasing. Is Reader being a brat, or is she just living the dream? You decide. SFW

A/N: This was a request from this prompt list and it solved my writer's block for my Echo square ^_^ I listed to Paralyzer by Finger Eleven when writing and I have to say it fits really well.

You would have felt a little guilty if the weight of his stare didn’t sit so delightfully on your skin.

It had settled on you the moment you strode into the room and made your way behind the bar at Cid’s. Usually, you hated that you had to moonlight when the guys got to relax after each mission. But tonight, it gave you the perfect opportunity to continue your slightly mean little game.

It wasn’t like you started it intentionally. Sure, you had been intentional in your efforts to grow closer to Echo. But riling him up on the latest mission hadn’t been the plan at first.

Proximity led to a few naturally awkward moments — a jerk of the ship sending you into his side, an injury needing attention in just this side of an appropriate location, seeing one another exiting the small fresher. They were small incidents, barely worth mentioning if not for your crush on the clone. And the way his gaze would always linger on you after, when he thought you weren’t looking.

It gave you a sliver of hope that maybe the infatuation was mutual.

Those moments would make your heart race, but what you loved the most was how flustered the usually so composed trooper would get.

But nothing had prepared you for last night. Echo had been in the pilot’s seat as Tech rested en route to your latest job. You claimed the co-pilot’s seat, keeping him company until the hour grew late enough that he insisted you go to sleep.

You rose to comply as the ship was rocked by a solar flare, sending you crashing into his lap.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, sure he was unaware of how his arms cradled you to him out of instinct and unwilling to bring his attention to it lest he move them away.

Echo, on the other hand, looked paralyzed. His eyes were impossibly wide as they looked everywhere but your own. His hand and scomp both hovered above your arm and back, almost not daring to touch you but moving constantly, as if he wanted nothing else than to really feel you.

You never saw anything more beautiful in your life.

You took pity on him, though, and got up soon after, your apology soft and insincere. And as you lay down in the vacant bunk, your mind began thinking about how you could get him to look at you like that again. About how you can make him come undone.

But you hadn’t actually planned on doing it. It was a twist of fate, brought on by the twist of your ankle as you ran to the rendezvous point after finishing your part of the job. Echo was with you, catching you as you fell sideways. It took everything in you not to smile silly at the slight dusting at the tops of his cheeks and the way he cleared his throat to regain his voice, asking if you were OK.

A comm from Hunter meant you had needed to move quickly, and before you could say anything Echo’s demeanor changed. The mask of the soldier slipped back into place as he bent to sweep your knees and cradle you to his chest. Heat surged into your face and neck as your arms instinctively circled his shoulders, using him to hold yourself in place as he began running.

Shortly after — too short if you were honest — you crossed into the Marauder. You could feel Echo move to put you down and before you could stop yourself, you pulled closer, holding him tight as you whispered your gratitude into his neck. And who could say whether your lips brushed his delicate skin more than necessary.

You let yourself slide down only then, when you knew you’d get to see his owlish blinking.

It was after, once you had wrapped your ankle and iced it that you chose to take any chance to fluster Echo on the way back to Ord Mental — pressing against his back to reach around him to the control panel, very aware of his lack of armor and your lack of breastband under your shirt; letting your hand drag along his waist as you moved past him in the narrow hull; swaying your hips when you knew he was looking at you walk away.

With each tease, Echo would always stiffen and look away, almost always grabbing something to keep his hands busy. But as the trip home progressed, something changed. He stopped looking away. Instead, you rarely felt his eyes leave your form and as you drew closer to Ord Mantel, the weight of his stare intensified.

Your only reprieve had been when you went to change out of your armor to mind the bar. Cid didn’t really have a dress code, so you had free reign to pick. Not wanting something too obvious but not wanting the game to end just yet — even if only you knew you were playing — you had selected an outfit that was just on the acceptable side of immodest.

So when you served the first customer his drink, you made sure to lean over the bar just a bit more than necessary. Nothing was visible directly, but the way your breasts rested against the bar pushed your cleavage up and right into Echo’s line of sight.

With a bold confidence you couldn’t account for, you glanced up to catch his eyes directly for the first time since leaving the ship. Satisfaction thrummed through you at the sight of him stiffening at being caught. It was a miracle his grip didn’t shatter his glass, and you wonder how that grip would feel on you.

You held his gaze for far longer than either of you could write off, reveling in the tension sizzling between you. It was a live thing, sparking so wildly you were sure to catch fire.

Feeling a satisfied smirk sliding into place on your lips, you slid back into the bar and turned to clean your station.

For the rest of the night, you avoided meeting Echo’s eyes, teasing him with the possibility of another heated look … and never delivering. But as fewer and fewer patrons filled the bar, you were running out of distractions. Eventually, it was just the two of you. He had kept his seat at the bar and was tracking every move as you flitted back and forth closing shop.

“Well, I guess that’s it for tonight,” you said loudly, finally turning to look at him.

Your core clenched at the sight waiting for you. Echo’s usually warm eyes were molten as they held yours, the intensity of his gaze melting your stomach to match. Your breath quickened as you could feel the heat encapsulate you.

“Not quite.” Echo’s voice was quiet, no louder than usual. But it was firm in a way that allowed no argument.

Slowly, he stood and made his way around the bar. Where his eyes refused to remain still, taking in every inch of you before him, yours were locked on his face. Gone was any trace of his flustered self from earlier. But it wasn’t the soldier’s mask that replaced it this time. Instead was a new look, one that inspired a delicious jolt of your heart.

“Oh? Did you need something else?” You delighted in how quickly his eyes snapped back to yours at the teasing lilt of your voice. You needed him to know without a doubt you were aware of what you were doing.

“Yeah,” he rasped as he invaded your personal space, leaning in until both arms rested against the bar on either side of you. “Those pretty eyes of yours have been making promises to me all day. I need to know if you’re planning on fulfilling them.”

Oh, you were done for. Everything about Echo in this moment demanded an answer from you, and you were more than happy to give it to him. If you had only known this was hidden under those flustered responses, you would have started this game a long time ago.

Ready to seal your fate, you rest your hands on Echo’s hips, digging in a little to soothe the sensitive muscles above his prosthetics. You lean forward, pressing your chest against his, indulging in the heat you were both giving off as you hold your lips just out of reach of his.

“Why don’t you find out?”

The last thing you saw was the flash of unadulterated desire flood Echo’s eyes before you were consumed by his kiss.

Taglist: @burningfieldof-clover, @blueink-bluesoul

Previous Clone X Reader Bingo Squares:

Don't Forget That, Okay? (Cross x Reader)

Rex (Technically Pt 2 can be read as a standalone, but Pt 1 is here.)

Mechanic (Tech x Reader)

Tatooine (Boba x Reader)

#cfb2023 #tbb echo #tbb echo x reader #echo x reader #the bad batch echo #clone force 99 #echo x you #tbb echo x you #i managed to keep it under 2k again!

112 notes · View notes

moodymisty · 11 months

Text

In His Shadow

Author's Note: A fun, personal project for one of my favorite clones. Finally a fic that I actually feel somewhat pleased with; It just seemed to work out well. I hope other people think the same, or at least enjoy it.

Summary: Sev has always been very purposeful in his gentleness towards you, but you don't want that this time.

Relationships: Sev/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Rough sex, Clothed sex, Alleyway sex, Quickies, Getting boned by a clone in full armor, Unprotected sex, Mentions of alcohol, Big meanie Sev has two modes

Word Count: 4368

Ao3 Link

Sev has two sides.

He’s a romantic. You remember how surprised you'd been at that; How you'd read his messages to you that would be so heartfelt and dreamlike, telling you of pretty skylines on faraway planets and how he can still feel your touch on his skin. What he says could be at times be considered poetry in it's own unique way, sending them to you in the middle of the night when he’s just off the battlefield and the adrenaline was just starting to wear off, or when he's stuck on Kamino in the same routine since he was first popped from his pod.

Sev is also gruff. Cut off, quiet, to the point; Rough.

He rarely speaks a word at times, eyes always watching and thinking. Clone Commando training has sharpened him to a point, and leaves him stern, tight-lipped, and at times overprotective of the few things he loves.

You love both sides of him. You couldn’t get one without the other, and you wouldn’t want to in the first place.

But it would be wrong to say that you always want him to be a romantic. You love him, but you also wouldn’t mind if for a night, he didn’t handle you like you were a fragile figurine.

You know he can do it. You’ve seen glimpses of it, when he’s moments away from losing control, the edges fraying like a shoddy old rope about to snap. But he always manages to hold it together, to kiss your lips like it’s the first time, to gently cradle your neck instead of grabbing a fistful of your hair.

Maybe it just needs to be teased out of him. You know some of the things that make him hot under the collar, so you think you have the gathered up confidence to do so.

It helps that Sev is a little looser than he usually is tonight; Not by much, you don't think he'd ever let himself get plastered, but a good drink and some post deployment rest have made him just the tiniest bit more malleable. The same goes for the rest of his brothers, who sit at the same booth all relaxing over some drinks. Scorch and Boss have ordered the most by far, but no one is truly drunk yet.

You take a quick glance outward and note that the bar isn’t too busy; But the Deltas aren’t the only clones having been given a rare break from the war effort, so there’s still plenty of colored armor organized in batches throughout the bar.

The shinies will intermingle, but clones painted with the colors of a particular squad or battalion will usually stay within groups of their own. It's more so just familiarity than anything else, but it's something that's hard not to notice. The behavior is even more so common with the rare squads of Commandos who come in here or presumably other clone friendly bars, as they always stay with just their pod-brothers; And everyone else eager to stay away and let them do so.

It’s less so a suggestion and more a general rule of thumb; You don’t fuck with Commandos.

They are stronger, larger, and more antisocial. And when you pick a fight, you get the whole squad. Rarely do you deal with only one. As such, it’s not out of the ordinary for Clone Commandos to have bubbles around them, as many are too nervous to risk offsetting one of them. Rightfully so. And you aren't dealing with the usual training; Commandos are a whole 'nother level, at least according to troopers you've spoken to. Hell, one of them still thinks you have a screw loose for asking Sev out all those cycles ago.

Maybe you just have a thing for the odd ones.

“Come on, who wouldn't be confident in our flawless record?” Looking back across the table instead of staring off, you join back into the conversation. Scorch downs the last of his drink, and you’ve lost count of how many down he is now.

"I just think you all should keep being careful,” You look towards Fixer. “At least for Fixer’s sake. He has to deal with you lot the most.” He rolls his eyes, but hopefully for his sake they'll listen even a little bit. You'd like Sev to remain in one piece.

"Don't bother. They'll never listen. Not like I haven't tried a million times." Fixer shrugs his shoulders in less so defeat, and more so acceptance. He knows his brothers well. It makes you laugh, but you can't help but worry about Sev's recklessness at times; He always promises to come back home, but you can't help thinking about something happening.

But now isn't the time to worry about that sort of stuff anyways. Not when he's right beside you.

As if he felt you looking at him Sev turns his head slightly and looks down at you right against his shoulder, his eyes softening just a tad. He gives your knee a little squeeze, before taking back his hand. He throws his arm back around the top of the booth, so it lays just behind your head.

He's said before he loves the soft feeling of your skin, and once admitted in a moment where his lips were looser than normal that it distracted him. It's a weakness of his, and one that as you'd planned earlier, intend to exploit quite heavily.

It's been weeks since you've touched him, and now that he's finally back safe from deployment, you want him riled up.

Hidden underneath the table gently take Sev’s hand, holding it with both of yours. You keep it like that for just a bit, before finally making your move.

Slowly you pull his hand until it lands on your thigh, his fingers brushing just what would be the middle. Not high, but close. He glances over at you curiously for a moment, before looking back to his brothers. You've done nothing crazy, so he doesn't take too much mind to it; It's not as if he wasn't doing something like it moments ago.

You don’t even know what the rest of them are talking about anymore; Scorch is a blabbermouth when he drinks and conversations are changing so fast. You're more distracted by Sev now anyways, and you can feel your face start to heat up just a bit at the thoughts running through your head. You fan feel his large hand gently squeezing the meat of your thigh, feeling it mold underneath as he moves his fingers in an almost mindless gesture. Or maybe it isn't so mindless? He's sitting upright a little more now, and seems a bit more on edge.

With one hand you place it over his again, and slowly you begin pulling it upwards towards the tops of your thighs. His fingertips fall between, and he can feel how warm you are through the fabric of his gloves.

Sev this time gets keen on your plan, however. He only has to turn his body a tad, before he leans down into your space. His breath is hot against the shell of your ear, and you swear you can smell him even through the liquor and greasy food. But no one can hear him but you.

“Thin ice.”

Is all he has to whisper in your ear.

If his goal was to stop you, whispering in your ear with a voice so deep like chocolate over gravel isn’t going to calm you. If anything, he only makes your thighs tighten together, a jolt of sensation traveling down your spine directly to your cunt. You can feel his now warmer than usual skin as he presses his forehead to the side of your face, still looking like he's whispering something in your ear for a moment.

You have no plans to heed his warning however; And in another feat of daring, you slowly take a few of your fingers and slip them into his glove, your skin brushing against his as you try to take it off. You can hear his disapproving hum- even though he makes no effort to actually stop you- and once you manage to get his glove off your thighs spread just enough that you push his hand deeper between them.

He can feel the softness of your skin just below the hem of your dress, and given how sitting has risen it up slightly, he wouldn’t have to move much more to reach their apex. In fact, he swears he can feel your clothed pussy brush over the outer side of his hand. You only need to move his hand once to rub against the fabric of your underwear, before he pulls his hand away.

Sev leans back to look fully at you, and with one glance at his expression you know it’s over.

That ice he mentioned? It’s cracked under your feet, and you’ve fallen into the dark water. He is going to kill you.

Sitting up more rigid you clear your throat in an attempt to get the rest's attention, while also trying to ignore Sev glaring holes into the side of your head. Maybe you should've done this a little later, or maybe a little more slowly.

“Sorry guys, I’ve had a great night tonight, but I think I should head out.” Scorch is loud, louder than usual with so much spotcha in him, groaning at you.

“Oh come on! Don’t leave me with the two hardasses! You’re the only other fun one!”

You ignore his plea, and with hands pressing on the edge of the table you get up, moving to slide out. Sev follows, almost like a shadow. When you’re both standing he has a hand gripping the fabric on the small of your back tight.

‘Hurry it up.’, is what the silent gesture clearly says. You back up into him just a tad and your body presses against him, and you hear him make a quiet noise.

“Sorry Scorch. I’ll make it up to you all later." You take one step back, giving a small smile. "See you guys next time.”

With hasty farewells given, Sev's hand on your back pushes you in the direction towards the back of the bar, where there’s a hallway; At the end a door leading into the alley. It’s mostly storage back here and whatnot, but it avoids having to push through the crowds at the front of the bar, which is what Sev wants right now. He wants the soonest possible spot where he can surely cuss you out for this, feeling himself strain against his armor. No matter now many times he attempts to make room for his heated neck or adjust his codpiece, nothing gives him relief.

You glance up at him while you both walk, before looking down and seeing the way his hand is gripping the edge of his own helmet; You fear any stronger, and he might snap it.

Pushing the back exit door open you both quickly shuffle through it, the warm summer air feeling much cooler than the stuffy heat from inside the bar. Neither of you comment on it, despite there clearly being some unsaid words being between the two of you.

They definitely aren't about the weather, however.

The moment the door closes and the two of you are finally alone, he grasps your shoulder, pushing your back against the wall. He stands in front of you, trapping you against it as an unmovable force. Though not that you'd want to leave.

The alleyway is dim; The lights are burning out and the shell around them is old and worn. As such Sev’s face is shadowed, his body pressing you hard against the wall.

“What were you thinking?”

His voice is strained, glaring at you while you sink into his shadow. You purse your lips and roll your eyes.

“Can I not hold your hand?” Sev’s tone of voice is borderline venomous, strained as the rough fabric of his glove slides along the exposed skin of your shoulder.

“You were not just holding my hand. You know it.”

You do, but half the fun was pretending otherwise. Especially since that was another part of teasing him.

Your can feel the rough texture of the brick and ferrocrete through your clothes, all the while Sev’s chestplate is nearly pressing against your own chest. His helmet, which he’d been holding in his hand drops to the ground, settling upright so now both hands can grip at your form.

Leaning down his lips are ghosting against yours, and you can just barely feel them brush over your own as he whispers.

"You did that all on purpose, didn't you?"

He hears you let out a breathy laugh.

"Maybe." It didn't seem like Sev had the chance to shave since coming back, so the stubble on his face is rough when it brushes against your skin.

"Would you have kept going if I didn't stop you?" You more than likely would've hauled him off far before things got crazy, but it's not to say you wouldn't have dragged out the torture just a little bit more.

"...Maybe."

You feel his hands tense against your waist, and in one smooth motion you go from facing him to the wall, to your chest pressing against it. His hands slide downward to grip your hips and pull them towards his groin, forcing your hands to press into the rough texture of brick to keep steady. He takes a step closer, trapping you harder against the wall. One of his hands leaves your hip, pulling the front of your skirt up before sliding forward to slip between the front of your underwear and stomach.

It lingers for a moment, as if he's internally debating something; Before suddenly the tips of his fingers slip below the hem of your underwear, and you can quickly feel them roughly pressing against the soft mound of flesh just above your cunt.

“That little head of yours is going to get yourself in trouble,” He says, his lips pressing against the side of your neck just below your ear and feeling your blood thump with your heartbeat. It's a good thing you were in the market for trouble.

“Fuck Sev,” His gloved fingers finally slip between your folds, the rough texture teasing before he quickly removes them.

“Bite,”

He says, raising two of his fingertips to your lips. Gently you bit the fabric, helping him pull the glove off so he can shove it into one of his belt pockets with one hand. Once finished his hand quickly returns to it’s spot snug inside of your underwear, brushing across your clit as his fingers become slick before slipping inside of you.

"I missed you too..." He doesn't seem to respond to your silly little joke about his roughness, his fingers deep in your cunt as you pant.

The weather has been warming, so the evening is less a freezing nightmare and more so a cool evening, with just enough of a breeze to make your shiver. At least in normal circumstances, with Sev’s stuffy breath against your skin and his body right against yours, you feel more than warm enough- even with plastoid armor impeding.

You attempt to swallow your moans and keep quiet, even though the likelihood of anyone actually hearing you is quite slim. The music from the bar, and even more so the crowds of people, are producing an almost deafening amount of noise, not even considering the other ambient noise of the district; As well as the alleyway being tucked back between a maze of buildings.

“You’re so warm,” He growls in your ear, the deep gravel of his voice you can almost feel in your gut. It’s even deeper now, almost more so than it’s even been. At least that you remember hearing.

He hears your soft mewl as his fingers curl inside of you, the soft sounds audible even with the amount of noises from outside. Your thighs quiver just slightly before you manage to steady yourself, pushing back against him.

His hand slipping away from your cunt you can hear him fumbling with his armor, forehead leaning against the side of your head as he does so. You can feel how he has you nearly trapped against the wall, body looming over yours.

You know the moment he’s managed it, as suddenly you can feel his groin- and subsequently the outline of his cock through his bodyglove- against your ass. He groans, in both relief and ache as he feels your soft body against him. He's slow however, taking his time pressing his hips against you, lips against the corner of your mouth.

“You act all needy, and now you’re going to make me wait forever?” Sev’s grip noticeably tightens around your hips, slipping along the sides of your underwear and wrenching them down around the middle of your thighs.

“You’re really trying to test my patience, aren’t you?” Sev is a patient man, he has to be at times given his trigger discipline, but somehow you always manage to make it run thin. You turn your head over your shoulder in an attempt to look up at him.

“I thought I already did; It’s why you dragged me out here to-” Sev’s cock pressed harder against your ass, while his lips press against the corner of your mouth.

“You need to be quiet,”

He says, before pulling back and tugging at the seam of his body glove, pulling out his cock to slide against your cunt. Instantly it becomes slick against your outer lips, Sev letting out a shaky groan as he grinds between your thighs. It makes you press your body almost backwards towards him, even though you don’t have much room to move.

You can hear the strain in his voice, clearly already pent up from weeks apart. He might not say it, at least not often, but you know that's the case.

You gain a bit of room when he pulls back just far enough, though only to press his cock against your entrance and slowly sheath himself inside of you. While he isn't overly rough, he certainly isn't gentle; You're absolutely going to feel it in the morning. The feeling makes you gasp; The angle making him feel even larger, if that’s even possible.

The hem of your dress lays on the small of your back, pushed up by Sev while the front remains somewhat in place. He makes you suddenly gasp as his hips hit your ass, fully sheathed inside of you as the rough fabric of his bodyglove and sharp edges of his armor press against your exposed skin.

Even though he had just hissed at you to be quiet, he’s not exactly setting a good example.

You can hear the lewd sounds as he fucks you, as well as the grunts and groans from deep within his throat. Sometimes he swears, sometimes he has a moment where he mumbles your name against your skin, though it holds less sweetness than usual. Not to say he isn’t loving, but he’s more, animalistic.

He isn't saying those usual little mutters of incomprehensible praise, or giving soft touches, instead gripping your hips and driving into you hard enough to almost press you into the wall, borderline desperately fucking you. Your knees keep wobbling, unstable though Sev's grip is helping keep you upright. Your underwear slides farther down to your knees, upper thighs slick from how wet your are.

“I love it when you act like this,” His hips slam into yours harder, making you moan loud enough that you quickly clap a hand over your mouth for a moment.

“Rough? Fuck you with all my armor on like this? That why you kept acting like a tease?”

His teeth gently nip at your skin, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave dents. It’s not too hard, he’s teetering right on the line. Like he knows exactly where it is, as he’s had to steer clear of it. Now that he knows you aren’t made of glass, he can step just a bit closer to it.

“Want me to put the helmet back on?”

He teases, the deep gravel of his voice you can feel directly in your cunt. Next time you’ll consider the bucket, but your little escapade is already running on borrowed time.

He’s close, you can feel the way his face is so hot against yours, and how he can barely keep an even pace; Now so less fast and hard, and more uneven but slower, and deep. He's still nowhere near gentle, fucking you for all he's worth enough to feel like your feet are going to leave the ground.

His hips stutter, slowly almost to a crawl as he grits is teeth, hearing it in your ear as he groans as he finishes inside of you. Your body feels so warm, almost overwhelmingly hot; The building the only source of cold feeling.

Slowing down you feel his one hand slip from your hip back to your front, sliding over your already battered pussy. You just need that little bit more, heart thumping against your chest and lower stomach tight and twisting in knots.

His hand presses against your clit harder, almost rough- too rough- making you gasp and bite your lip. He wants you to cum on his cock and is on a mission to do so, his teeth scraping against the heartbeat he can feel against his lips.

“Fuck, fuck Sev-”

So so close, right on the edge...

He can feel your cunt tighten around him as he finally coaxes it out of you, your knees barely able to hold yourself up even with with being pressed and held so tight by Sev. Your breath leaves a moist patch on the wall, hands scratched and sore. All of you is sore, and will be even more so tomorrow.

But you did coax it out of him, with this being the goal. So while it this was the cost, you consider it more than worth it.

“Fuck,” Sev pants, his body heavy against yours- even more so with the added weight of his armor. “We should get out of here. Before someone sees.”

The likelihood of someone coming back here, other than maybe a clone with a similar idea as you, is incredibly slim. But needless to say you still agree. You're now a disheveled mess; Your dress is wrinkled and underwear stretched, a few stitches snapped and what amount of makeup you'd been wearing is now far less clean than it had been. It still looks in place, but you can see where your eyes had almost been watering, or your lipstick smudged across your face.

And Sev's; He's sporting a little kiss mark on the corner of his mouth but you elect not to tell him about it because of how good it looks against his tan skin and stubble.

Leaning away from the wall, the way Sev had you for so long it made your feet almost numb, stinging like little pinpricks. It makes them harder to walk on, your knees wobbly and body still hot.

“Just, give me a minute.” Sev’s hand weighs gently on your hip even after you gather you bearings, looking up at him. He gently brushes a chunk of hair from your face as you fix your clothes, before he follows you. He stays close the whole time, a hand on the small of your back.

“Don’t give me that look,” He says, even as you make sure for the fifth time your clothing is totally fixed before emerging from the back alley. Once you do his hand leaves your back, but he's still staying quite close.

“What look?”

He doesn’t answer, just looking down at you with a firm set brow, while hailing a taxi with his hand.

You both squeeze inside, and you give the address back to your place. While Sev doesn’t mind the barracks as much as the average clone, he’d still much rather go back to your place than them. Especially after everything.

You could more than do for a bit of a lie down after all of that, and surely Sev will join you. You only have him till sunrise, so you'll also like to get in some nice, quiet time.

He seems all for that as well, as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

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

It’s in the mess hall after he's returned to the base, that Scorch finally decides to pry into Sev’s absence, doing so over a tray of lukewarm soup. The subpar food isn't of any interest to Scorch, especially since gossip is on the menu, and Sev was caught by them sneaking back into the barracks far later than he should've been.

They won't tell, but it's not as if they aren't going to pester him about it.

“So…” Sev looks up, just knowing that was a warm up sound to the question he knows is going to be thrown at him.

“How’d it go with the princess?” Sev takes a bit of his own food, not even bothering to look up at his brother. He knows Scorch is referring to their abrupt absence at the bar, and that's where his intel ends.

“None of your business.”

Fixer isn’t even going to step into this minefield of a conversation, and even makes effort to avoid eye contact and thus being roped in. He continues eating his food as normal, and hoping it eventually sizzles out.

“Oh what, did you finally scare her off with your shitty attitude?” Boss gives Scorch a stern look;

‘Play nice’, as he’s starting to tread into territory that is beyond his sort of teasing jokes.

Sev seems to have the matter settled on his own, however. He gives Scorch one look that would boil anyone else’s blood, along with the cover of unwavering confidence.

“She doesn't seem to mind it.”

Scorch rolls his eyes and resists the urge to audibly gag.

“Ugh, you two were made for each other. It’s disgusting.”

#delta squad x reader #Sev/Reader #sev x reader #delta squad sev x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

131 notes · View notes

lamaenthel · 3 months

Text

Bite Down On This

[read on ao3] [Febuwhump prompt: "Bite Down On This"]

Bly has to do the unthinkable to his General to save her life after a mortar strike wipes out their company.

Characters: CC-5052|Bly, Aayla Secura, Quinlan Vos Wordcount: 868

" …hear me? Bly? Bly, are you alive?"

Bly blinks, takes a deep breath, and almost passes out again. He's face-down in a pile of… something. Something that smells like copper, fire, and human shit. He pushes himself up, his head spinning, and vomits on top of the bisected abdomen of the clone trooper he landed on.

"Get up!" He's yanked sideways, dragged on his back away from the body. Bodies. They're everywhere, he can see that now. "Get it together trooper, I need you."

"Yes, General," Bly tries to say; it comes out more of a blurry, slurred yrrrs gurnnnll.

"Hold on, Blue. We're coming. I got him. See? You were worried for nothing." General Vos tugs him up and forces him to walk on nerveless legs.

"Bly?" His stomach flips at how weak she sounds. "Oh, Bly, I—ah!" She breaks off with a shriek of agony. His stomach flips again.

"We're here. We're here, Blue." General Vos lets go of Bly's cuirass and drops down beside her. "I'm so sorry, honey. This is going to hurt. Bite down on this and take a deep breath, okay?"

Bly focuses on not falling down. His brain is unscrambling, reassembling his memories like scattered puzzle pieces. Aayla was leading their small scouting company from the front, trying to keep up with her old Master's massive stride. Bly was bringing up the rear, avoiding Vos and the looks he kept throwing over his shoulder. There was a whistle over their heads, then…

Mortar! Spread out!

He was at the rear. She was at the front. He was thrown back. She…

"It's okay, Blue. I know, I'm sorry it hurts. I've got you." Vos tightens the tourniquet around her ruined leg, right above what used to be her knee.

They had some sausages once on Dantooine, made from roba hogs by the locals. They were so grateful for the Republic's arrival. They donated crates upon crates of fresh meat, vegetables, and fragrant blue rice. They'd never eaten so well. Aayla helped them all find sticks to cook the sausages on over the bonfire—her skin glows like midnight in the firelight—and laughed like a bell when he burned his mouth.

Bard had overcooked his sausage. The end had burst open and split apart in strips, just like Aayla's leg.

"Get down here, Commander." General Vos adjusts them so that Aayla is cradled in his lap, his tree-trunk legs sticking straight out. He puts a hand on her forehead and whispers something Bly can't hear. Her head falls to the side, lekku drooping limp and lifeless. "Take my lightsaber and cut above the tourniquet," Vos orders, tossing it to the dirt in front of him.

Bly's legs give out. He falls hard onto his shebs, head spinning. "What?"

"You heard me, Commander." Aayla stirs to life in his arms. Vos scowls and closes his eyes. "Sleep," he orders her, loud enough for Bly to hear this time.

There's two sabers laying in the dirt in front of him. Bly unsteadily reaches for the one on the right, grabs a handful of dirt instead.

"Now!" Vos growls at him. "Sleep." His voice turns gentle when it's directed at her. He's like a father to me. "Good girl. It'll be over soon."

Aayla is dripping sweat and drooling around the leather strap her Master shoved in her mouth. Her head tosses from side to side, struggling to stay awake. Her lekku come to life only to curl up in tight, distressed spirals.

"I…" Bly swallows down a second surge of vomit. They need a medic. Where's their medic? He suddenly remembers the paintjob of the trooper he woke up on.

"Do it!" The Kiffar General—both of them—shoots him a glare that could melt beskar. "I can't keep her unaware much longer, Commander, she's fighting too hard. Do it before she wakes up!"

"Wake up, Commander," she whispers, her lek curling lovingly around his wrist. She trails a graceful finger down his nose, tickles his lips, chases the touch with a delicate kiss.

"Do it, now!"

Bly pushes the button, goes blind from the green light. He blinks away the spots, stares down at his Aayla's beautiful leg—she hooks it over his hip, uses it to pull him closer as she cries out his name—and stops. "I can't," he says hoarsely. "I can't hurt a Jedi." My Jedi.

"You want her to be awake and screaming while you cut her leg off?" Vos' fury is incandescent, burning like a corona. "Do it, you useless son of a bitch!"

Bly's double vision isn't helped by his tears. "I can't."

"If you don't I will fucking gut you." Vos means it, but he still can't bring himself to bring down the beam. "Do it now, or so help me—"

"Bly," Aayla whimpers around the strap. Her big, beautiful brown eyes flicker open.

"SLEEP." Vos mouths the command directly against her ear cone. Her eyes close, her head falls limply to the side. Vos' eyes meet Bly's, and his vision is finally steady enough to see that the Kiffar is crying. "Do it. Do it while she's asleep, I'm begging you."

Bly swallows hard, nods, and brings down the blade.

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump, @soliloquy-of-nemo Divider: @saradika-graphics

#commander bly #aayla secura #quinlan vos #blyla #febuwhump #star wars #my writing #febuwhumpday3

20 notes · View notes

rustic-space-fiddle · 1 year

Text

No greater love than he who lay down his life for his friends.

118 notes · View notes

triscribeaucollection · 1 year

Text

History Reversed

Yet another Time Travel AU. I ought to be famous for ‘em by now, right?

---

Wolffe kept a hand close to his blaster.

He didn’t know what was going on, who the Togruta hugging his general really was, because like kriff could that actually be Tano. A couple of discrete hand signals to the troopers behind him got them to separate, spread out, just in case the need arose for stun shots. After a moment’s hesitation, he also pressed a button on his wrist comm to summon a medical squad.

The Togruta looked pretty singed, after all. And they’d scanned further lifeforms aboard the damaged ship, too. Potential mindtrick plot or not, it wouldn’t hurt to have some stretchers nearby, just in case.

And speaking of other lifeforms...

A male Human cautiously scooted down the ramp next, maybe thirty, thirty-five standard. He looked a little better dressed than the Togruta, but with even more mud caked up to his knees, and a much more wary expression on his scarred face. Wolffe could see a holster hanging from his belt - two compartments, one holding a blaster, the other a lightsaber.

“Ahsoka?” The man asked. Wolffe’s fingers twitched.

The Togruta pulled back from his general, smiling through her tears. “Ezra. This- this is Jedi Master Plo Koon. He found me, when I was little. Brought me to the Jedi Temple.”

“Wait- Wolffe’s Plo Koon?” Even as he asked, the man looked up and around, scanning the clone troopers until his gaze landed on- “Commander Wolffe?”

And the fun times just kept on rolling. Reluctant in the extreme, Wolffe reached up to tug his bucket off, and came a few steps closer. From the better angle, he could make out more of the Togruta’s facial markings, and- they did look like Tano’s. Just. Bigger. Stretched, a bit, like when a clone cadet snuck a tattoo onto their skin, only for it to distort when they kept growing and packing on more muscle. Wolffe eyed her, and then eyed the Human, arching a single brow.

The second stranger made a stunned noise. “Holy kriff, that is Wolffe.”

“Wait until you see Rex,” his companion laughed, and-

Well.

Jedi did get into all sorts of bantha-shit with the Force. He’d heard more than enough stories from brothers serving with generals far less careful than his own. Maybe, maybe, Wolffe could believe this was, somehow, an older Ahsoka Tano.

She introduced her friend as Ezra Bridger, Jedi Knight, and then the three kids who tumbled down next as Jacen, Alora, and Pypey, Padawan Learners. And after them- “This is Luke, and his daughter Jaina. She needs serious medical attention.”

A Master and Initiate. A Master, who looked haggard, and exhausted, moving slowly as if the whole galaxy had just come crashing down onto his shoulders, and the only thing keeping him moving at all was the child cradled against his chest. A child, practically a baby Jedi, who bore the wounds of a battlefield and was missing most of an entire limb. Wolffe nearly growled at the sight, double tapping the button on his comm to get the medical team to hurry the hell up.

To their credit, his men spilled into the hangar not thirty seconds later, moving at a brisk jog and not hesitating to come straight up to the group of unknown Jedi. The Ithorian kid and older Human girl were situated on one stretcher, pressed together as their blaster wounds with hastily-affixed bacta patches were looked over. Little Jaina was placed more carefully on the other, the Wolfpack’s CMO muttering furiously to himself as he checked over her worst injury.

Wolffe knew damn well what lightsaber damage looked like.

To his credit, the girl’s father managed to hold himself together after setting her down, and stayed standing through the initial examination. But the very instant the medical team wheeled his daughter and the other kids out, Ezra going with them, Luke dropped to his knees without so much as a flicker of warning.

He didn’t make a sound. Sure looked like he wanted to, though, judging by the painful mix of grief and despair on his face. Ahsoka folded herself down beside him, wrapping an arm around the man’s shoulders, and Wolffe’s general wound up kneeling as well.

“She-” Luke’s jaw spasmed trying to get the words out. “She ran- ran to Ben. Before I- I couldn’t-” A broken sob clawed its way out, and he lifted a hand to press to his face. A prosthetic hand, Wolffe noted with a flinch of surprise. No cover or synth-skin molding, just bare metal.

“Who is Ben?” General Plo asked softly.

“Luke’s padawan,” Ahsoka answered, at the same time Luke himself said, “My nephew.”

Karking hells. That didn’t sound like the start of a fun story.

#star wars #star wars sequals #star wars the clone wars #time travel au #fan fiction #work in progress #ahsoka tano #ezra bridger #luke skywalker #plo koon #commander wolffe #fix-it fic #and by fix-it I don't just mean canon #I was very mean to these characters in a couple other fics #and this is my apology

193 notes · View notes

that-gay-jedi · 1 year

Text

Honestly tho the power and vulnerability of Vader. The way that even as you can hear him fucking gasping for breath and fighting for his life bc of his damaged breathing devices that are inherently connected to the way he's lost everything and been psychologically stripped for spare parts by Palps, even then he's telling Obi-Wan there is no limit, whether by morality or by might, to the evil he's done and will do.

Like "Yes, I killed Anakin Skywalker, I intentionally subverted and dismantled everything he [I] was, I profaned the memory of a good man, the man you loved, after I murdered him in cold blood, I alone ruined the most powerful Jedi of possibly any generation, and now I will destroy you, one of the people Anakin [I] loved most and one of the most powerful Jedi left, and then I will step over your corpse and slaughter a shipload of everyday heroes and the children they were protecting and continue systematically crushing everything good and gentle out of this galaxy without stopping for breakfast"

And how everybody talks about what a weakness the visible buttons and control panel on his chest could be but then hardly anyone except Obi-Wan ever manages to touch it. He loses the fight, but he still terrorizes the galaxy for another decade and hardly anyone else knows him as anything but invincible. He will rip the battlefield apart but spends all his free time crying, fixing his ship and eating soup.

When Ahsoka recognizes him in a fight he tells her to run, because he knows he's dangerous and that he won't spare her and yet part of him loves her and wants her to live. Multiple groups of sentient beings worship Darth Vader as a demigod but Anakin's heart, which is Vader's Achilles' heel, is a target the size of a star.

The cautionary tale of "Look out, you could turn out to be like Vader if you're not careful" delivered to Luke in the cave on Dagobah would be ludicrous to nearly anyone else (anyone not fuckoff powerful in the Force) because you can't become Death itself. Vader bows before a master and "He is just a boy" sounds more like "Please, not my son" yet Palps had to intentionally build vulnerabilities in bc he knows if Vader ever turns on him otherwise it's 110% over for his weaselly ass.

Being thrown down a reactor shaft was a merciful death compared to what Vader might have done if he'd not canonically turned back to the light moments beforehand and/or if he'd had more time. If you have to face off against Vader you pray for a quick and relatively painless death, but seeing Obi-Wan cry completely shuts off Horror Movie Monster.exe and lets smol Ani who just wants to fix everything run the show for a hot second.

He's a demon and a war criminal and a golden retriever puppy and an awkward teenager who misses his mom. He has nightmares. He is a nightmare.

He built Ahsoka a fucking booster seat only like, a year after killing a bunch of children on Tatooine. He cuts up Reva and leaves her to die weeping in a heap on the floor like trash, not even caring if she manages to crawl away to fight another day bc even then she isn't a threat. He all but cradles a dying clone trooper in his arms and tells him he was [is] Anakin Skywalker.

Like what the fuck. The power and vulnerability of Vader, both totally unmatched.

#anakin skywalker #darth vader #star wars #sw meta #villains

280 notes · View notes

jedipoodoo · 7 months

Text

For You (Wrecker x Reader)

WARNINGS: This one shot discusses ptsd and trauma from sexual assault / rape. The assault is not depicted, but the focus is on Wrecker comforting the reader in the aftermath.

Notes: this one-shot is inspired by Rachel Smythe's Lore Olympus.

"Wrecker, stop!" You screamed, stumbling over your feet as you tried to keep up with his menacing strides. Other troopers in the hall flattened themselves against the wall, dodging into closets and avoiding the look of bloody murder Wrecker had fixated on the exit door up ahead.

You sprinted to get ahead of him, and with a gentleness not evidenced by his purposeful march, Wrecker gently moved you to the side.

"I'm gonna kill him," He vowed. Ice-cold terror shot through your veins. Killing a senator was one thing. Being a clone and killing a senator meant certain doom for Wrecker and his entire experimental unit.

"You can't kill a senator!" You gasped, latching onto Wrecker's arm. You dug your heels into the floor in a pitiful attempt to slow him down.

Wrecker dragged you along for a moment before he realized you were hanging on, pausing only to glance at you with a promise in his eyes.

"You're right, for you I could do something much worse!"

Your grip slipped, and you crumpled to your feet in the middle of the hallway. Your nose burned and tears painted your face.

"Hurting him won't make me feel better!" You sobbed. You buried your face in your hands to hide the tears, utterly humiliated that you were doing it in the public barracks for all to see.

You could hear Wrecker's heavy footfalls pause, and then shift uncertainly.

"If-if you wa-want to help me, then stay with me!" You gasped for breath, and felt the floor shifting beneath his feet as Wrecker knelt in front of you, gathering you into his arms.

"I-I-I'm the one that needs you," You sobbed. Wrecker tucked you into his chest, holding you tightly but ever so gently.

"I'm the one who need- needs you." Your arms latched around his neck, refusing to let go.

You hiccupped, and Wrecker gently rubbed your back, an even rhythm to help you regulate your breaths as you sobbed.

"I'm sorry," Wrecker whispered, his voice shaking, "You shouldn’t be the one consoling me in some karking barracks hall.

"He has to be punished," He whispered, voice still trembling with anger.

You shook your head and held him tighter, "I do-don't want to think about him right now."

Wrecker took a shaky breath. Arresting people and legal procedures like this were for the Coruscant Guard. He was completely out of his depth with this. As much as he wanted to run his knife through the spot where a heart should be in this so-called senator, he knew if you lost him, you would be much worse off.

"Okay," He said softly, "Okay. I'm here, I'm right here."

Echo would know what to do, even Hunter or Crosshair could probably manage this better than he could, but you didn't want either of them, you wanted him.

So Wrecker stayed, cradling you in his arms as he slowly stood, carrying you to the closest empty barracks so that you could lock yourselves in. Wrecker lay on one of the bunks, shielding you in his arms.

"I'm so sorry. All this time you've been dealing with this and I've been completely oblivious."

You laughed humorlessly.

"Well, it's not exactly like I've been eager to share, you know?"

Wrecker tucked his finger beneath your chin so that he could get a good look at you. Your face was sticky with tears, and your eyes were red.

"I'm sorry I pressed you so much."

Your bottom lip quivered, and you hid your face in his chest so that he wouldn't have to see you cry.

"I'm glad someone knows, though," You said. Tears still streamed down your face, forming a puddle on his shirt, but Wrecker didn't complain.

You shivered, thinking about the senator who had touched you, hurt you, threatened you. Would it really be so terrible if you let Wrecker get him back?

But letting Wrecker go hurt that senator meant letting him leave you, and you couldnt bear that thought.

"What can I do for you? How can I make it better?" Wrecker asked.

You clung to him tighter.

"Stay with me," You begged, "Don't go."

Wrecker pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, his arm tucked under your head like a pillow as he cradled you close.

"It's okay, ad'ika," He whispered, "I'm here for you. I promise."

#lizart writes #wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #rape mention #assault mention #the bad batch wrecker x reader #wrecker bad Batch x reader

49 notes · View notes

starryevermore · 1 year

Text

following orders: the goggles (1) ✧ tech

following orders ✧ a tech bad batch story | ao3

inspired by: a conversation with @captainsbestgal

pairing: tech x fem!reader

series summary: you don’t want to live in a galaxy where the love of your life, tech, does not exist. but, you can’t abandon your already grieving family. you devote all of your energy to helping hunter and wrecker save omega from the empire and, perhaps, save the wayward crosshair along the way. but the longer you look for the youngest member of the bad batch, the more you suspect that your lost love is not as lost as you once believed.

chapter summary: the aftermath of plan 99.

word count: 7,223

series warnings?: spoilers for “plan 99”, plan 99, canon-typical violence, hurt tech, canon divergent, fix it fic, angst, grief/mourning, torture, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, relationship discussions, mutual pining, clone troopers speak mando’a, depression, suicide ideation, memory loss, brainwashing, jealousy, not proofread

chapter warnings?: mention of tech’s death, grief, mourning, suicide ideation, not proofread

“When have we ever followed orders?”

You cradled Omega in your arms as the Marauder traveled through hyperspace. You weren’t sure if you should still be holding her. She’d been gravely injured, and you have enough first aid training to know that it’s safer to let a person be stabilized than to constantly be adjusting them. But holding onto her, your pseudo-daughter, was the only thing grounding you in this moment. And, perhaps a bit delusional at the moment, you told yourself that, when traveling through hyperspace, maybe it was safer to hold onto her than to let her little body be whipped around the ship—not that her brothers would do that. Not now. Not after everything that’s happened.

“When have we ever followed orders?”

A tear slipped down your cheek. You raised one hand, quick to wipe it away, before returning to holding Omega. You couldn’t cry. Not now. If you cried…That meant it was real. And it couldn’t be real. He couldn’t have…No. He was fine. He was okay. He piloting the ship, he was making last-second calculations to ensure a safe landing. He was…He was not with you. Not now. Not ever. Even if he had beat the odds, used that brilliant mind of his to calculate just the right way to fall…You all left him. You weren’t sure anyone could survive in the wilderness below, even someone as brilliant as him.

“When have we ever followed orders?”

Hunter walked up to you. His face was void of his emotion, save for his eyes. Hunter could play the stoic leader all he liked, but his eyes would always tell a different story. The man was barely holding it together. You could hardly blame him. Losing Tech…No one had seen that coming. No one saw him making the sacrifice play. He was supposed to be on the ship with you. How did he expect you to move on when he meant everything to you? When there was still so much left unsaid?

“When have we ever followed orders?”

Hunter sat down beside you. Omega’s head rested in your lap. He reached down, stroking her blonde curls. He needed this, too. Everything that all of you did was to ensure that Omega would live, that she might one day get to see a peaceful galaxy. Or, when that was too large a task, at least that she would live a peaceful life. That she wouldn’t become a soldier in an unwinnable war. But what was the point in that when all she’d experienced since joining you and her brothers was unspeakable loss? No kid deserved that, especially not one as kind and innocent as her.

“We’ll be landing soon,” Hunter said.

You swallowed, trying to choke down any sob that threatened to escape. “Are you sure this is a good idea? When we were…When we were on Safa Toma, Millegi told us that Cid can’t be trusted.”

Hunter kept his gaze focused on Omega. You weren’t sure, but you thought that he kept his head downturned so that you wouldn’t see any tears that were close to falling. “I don’t see how we have any choice. She needs proper medical treatment. AZI is the only one I trust to make sure…”

To make sure she didn’t die. He couldn’t finish the sentence, but you could feel the weight of it. It nearly suffocated you. You couldn’t lose anymore of your family. The galaxy could not be so cruel as to take another from you. You wouldn’t let it.

“I just worry that Cid will do something. We cut off all communication with her. We may have once been in her good graces, but I don’t know what will happen if she sees us again.”

“I know. But, she has a soft spot for the kid,” Hunter said. His hand fell from Omega’s hair, stroking her cheek. Though still unconscious, she let out a whine. You weren’t sure if it was one of pain, or if she recognized that her father figure was present. “I can only hope that that will grant us some favor.”

“If it doesn’t?”

Hunter’s jaw clenched. He lifted his head, finally looking at you. His eyes were glassy, but hard. With a sort of ferocity you only ever heard from him on the battlefield, he said, “I won’t let anyone take her from us.”

The Marauder jerked slightly as it entered Ord Mantell’s atmosphere. While Echo was more than a capable pilot, he lacked some of the finesse that Tech possessed. Or perhaps you were hyperaware now of every move, every jump, every jerk. It felt like your senses were on fire. Like you had to perceive everything so that you didn’t have to picture his face.

Within minutes of entering the atmosphere, the Marauder landed. Hunter stood, then held out his arms to carry Omega. It was a kind gesture, and maybe he wanted to carry her because he also needed to be grounded. But you knew that if you let go of her, for even a second, you would collapse and never want to get up again. So, you shook your head, adjusting your grip on the young girl, so that you were cradling her in your arms as you stood. It was an effort, you had to admit. You were strong, but that did not compare to the strength of a genetically enhanced clone trooper. But the pain, the burn of your muscles, was one of the only things reminding you were alive, that Omega was alive.

Echo and Wrecker were already waiting outside the ship when you and Hunter emerged. Echo looked much like you and Hunter—stoic, but barely holding it together. Wrecker, on the other hand…The poor guy must have spent the entire journey crying. Tear tracks stained his face, his eyes all red and puffy. Even the tip of his nose was a bright red. When he saw you carrying Omega, he immediately reached out. And, oh, he needed this much more than you. You let him take Omega from your arms, a sob escaping his lips as he held her.

“I’m going to stick with the ship,” Echo said. “Make sure everything’s in working order for when we leave.”

You shared a glance with Hunter. You wanted to say, We might be here a while. Or, you should probably be checked out by AZI, too. We all need help right now. Perhaps even, Please don’t leave us now. But, everyone grieves in their own way. If this was Echo saying he needed to grieve alone, who were you to deny him that?

Hunter said, “Keep your comm on and close by. We might need a quick getaway.”

Echo nodded, then turned back to the ship. You watched as his shoulders sagged as he walked back up. You and Echo were never the closest on the team, but you knew enough of his life before the Batch that losing a member of the team hit him hard. Perhaps when Omega was healed, when you all left this Maker-forsaken planet, you would talk to him. Maybe convince him to stick around a little while longer before rejoining Rex. You couldn’t make him stay forever, but you all were his family. This was not the time to be splitting up for an undetermined length of time.

Hunter squeezed your shoulder, letting you know it was time to go to Cid’s. You let out a shuddering breath, kept your gaze focused on your feet, as you walked the streets to the oh-so-familiar parlor. The entire walk, you tried working on keeping a straight face. You knew you couldn’t hide what happened from Cid—she was far too perceptive to not notice you all were down a man—but you didn’t dare show weakness in front of her. You were already certain a betrayal was on the horizon. You refused to give her anymore ammunition to hurt you with.

The parlor was empty when you arrived, save for Bolo and Ketch. Ketch’s eyes widened when he saw the four of you. You could only imagine how much of Cid’s wrath they had experienced when you all never returned. Bolo’s eyes flicked toward the bar, and you followed his gaze. Cid was wiping down the counter. It seemed like she hadn’t noticed you all yet, but you knew Cid well enough to know she was waiting for one of you to make the first move.

“Is AZI around?” you asked as you approached the bar.

Cid’s eyes flicked up, a snarky remark on the tip of her tongue. But then she saw Omega in Wrecker’s arms, the pained look on his face. Instead of her usual sarcasm, she asked, “What happened to Tiny?”

You looked at Hunter. You weren’t sure how much he wanted to reveal to the Trandoshan. If it was up to you, you would give her nothing. But he was calling the shots, and he might think it better to give something so that she would be more inclined to let the med droid tend to Omega.

“Mission gone wrong,” was all he offered. “She needs to see AZI now.”

Cid nodded her head toward her office. “He’s in the back doing inventory. Do what you need to do. But when the kid’s taken care of, we need to have a talk about best communication practices.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, a snarky remark of your own on the tip of your tongue, but you held back. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, and all that. If Cid’s concern for Omega was the only thing keeping her from throwing you out, or worse, throwing you to the Empire, you could hold your tongue. For, at least, long enough to let AZI tend to Omega’s wounds.

You started for the back, Wrecker and Hunter following close behind. But you didn’t make it far before Cid stopped you all again.

“Wait. One of youse is missing.” When you looked back at her, Cid’s eyes were flitting between the three of you. “Is Goggles on the ship or something?”

You decided to borrow Hunter’s words, and only offered her, “Mission gone wrong.”

Oh, what an understatement that was. But she didn’t deserve to be privy to the details. She didn’t have the right to know of the pain that stabbed at you, that bit and clawed at your heart, reminding you that you were alive instead of him. She was not a friend. She was hardly an acquaintance. If you couldn’t even talk to your own family about the ache you felt, why should she get to know?

True to her word, though, AZI was flitting around the back, taking stock of the various liquors that Cid ordered for the parlor. He lifted his head when he heard you all approach. You might have been imagining things—and you surely were, because droids don’t express emotions in the same way as sentient beings—but the med droid almost looked happy to see you. Part of you had felt bad for leaving him behind with Cid. He had been Omega’s friend after all. But, Hunter wasn’t keen on returning to Ord Mantell back then. Not after the incident at the ipsium mines. You could hardly blame him, so you didn’t push. Now, you wish you had. If you had come back for AZI all those rotations ago, he would have already been on the ship or at least on the sanctuary that was Pabu. There would have been no need to come back here and endanger your family’s lives any further.

“Oh! I was wondering when you were coming back!” AZI chirped, coming around the many boxes. “Cid had not been very happy when you all didn’t return. But I knew you would come back! And I was right! I knew that if you left, you wouldn’t leave me behind.”

“We need your help,” Hunter said, ignoring the droid’s words. He had previously been standing in front of Wrecker, shielding the droid’s view of the injured Omega. Now, he stepped out of the way. “Omega got hurt, and it’s gonna take more than a few bacta patches to fix her up.”

AZI stared. You could almost sense the hurt he could be feeling. Whether it was at the knowledge that you all weren’t there for him or that his friend was knocking on death’s door, you couldn’t be sure. “I see. I shall get started then.”

You reached out, your fingers grazing the droid. If he could have blinked at you in confusion, you were sure he would have. “Thank you. And…I’m sorry.”

“No need for apologies or gratitude. This is what I’m here for.”

You weren’t sure how long you watched AZI tend to Omega. It felt like days—long, agonizing days as he flitted around her—though you doubted it was any longer than a few hours. You had lost track of time. Between watching him fix up Omega and occasionally tending to you, Hunter, and Wrecker when he needed time for the medicine to work its magic on her, it all kind of felt like a dream. Or, really, a nightmare. The crushing weight of this reality was starting to settle on your chest. You didn’t like this. You didn’t like it at all.

At some point, Hunter brought you some breads and a glass of water. “Eat,” he said, ordering you like you were a soldier. You and him both knew that you would ignore him if he asked. “He wouldn’t want you to starve.”

You let out a quiet huff of a laugh, if you could even call it that. “He would talk about the benefits of a well-balanced diet, go on about how the food here was hardly sustenance, but that fed is best.”

Hunter wiped away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You’d hardly noticed it. How long had you been crying? You’d been so sure that you were holding it together still. “We’ll get through this.” He nodded his head at the door, gesturing to where Wrecker had disappeared after AZI put his neck in a brace. Wrecker had been placing a huge amount of space between you and him. The guilt must have been hurting him, too—even if he had nothing to feel guilty for. “Wrecker and I were talking about staying on Pabu full time, after Omega is fixed up.”

“What about Crosshair?”

Hunter’s jaw clenched. “I can’t trust that his message wasn’t a trap. I’m not going to lose any more of my family on the chance that he’s switched sides. He’s given no indication that he wanted to join us before.”

“It’s not a trap. I know it’s not.” Perhaps it was a low blow, being so close to the incident, but you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Tech knew it wasn’t a trap.”

Hunter swallowed, hard. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Then— “Tech…died so his family could be safe. I’m honoring his wishes.”

“Crosshair is part of this family. His message, it was a sign that he still cared. That despite everything, he still cares.”

Hunter started to argue, but his mouth snapped shut when Omega groaned. He shot you a look—this wasn’t over. But the conversation would have to be tabled for another day.

You squeezed his shoulder. “We can go to Pabu if that’s what Omega wants. Whatever she chooses, I’ll respect.”

“Hunter?” Omega managed to say. She said your name as she realized you sat beside him.

Hunter immediately leaned over her, stroking her hair. You reached out, taking one of her hands, giving it a squeeze. Hunter offered her a small smile, and said, “Hiya, kid.”

“You gave us a right scare there,” you said.

Omega let out a groan and started to sit up. “W-What happened?”

You and Hunter shared a glance. You could hardly put into words the ordeal you all just experienced. You weren’t sure you could explain it to her without crying, but you also didn’t want Hunter to shoulder that responsibility. He already carried too much weight on his shoulders.

But before you could say anything, AZI entered the room. He chirped, “Hello, Omega. I am relieved you are awake.” He did a quick scan of her, the light blue light illuminating her face. “You each sustained multiple injuries. However, you all will make a full recovery with proper treatment and rest.”

Omega sat up, a hand clutching her head. Hunter reached around, helping her so that she didn’t make things too hard for herself. You gave her hand another squeeze. At this point, it was probably more for your comfort than hers. She was alive. She would be okay. That’s all that mattered right now. If you could focus on that, everything would be okay. Eventually.

At the sound of Omega’s voice, Wrecker came into the room. He wouldn’t look at you, even when you tried to meet his gaze. You understood why—the guilt he must feel would be tremendous. He was the brawn on the operation. He was the muscles. It’s his job to make sure that no one in his family has to take the brunt of any injuries. In his eyes, he failed. In his eyes, he’s the reason your heart is broken. In his eyes, he’s the reason Tech died.

You hadn’t been sure how to comfort him, so you let him go off on his own for a while. You weren’t quite sure how to comfort yourself. So, you let him sit in his misery and you in yours. Now, though, you wish you’d done something. It hurt, him not being able to look at you, even if he thought he was trying to spare you the pain.

“You’re—You’re okay,” Wrecker said. He stumbled forward, kneeling in front of Omega, letting out a breath. He was the perfect picture of held-back panic. He held Omega in a quick hug, careful not to press on any of her injuries. “Don’t scare us like that again.”

Hunter offered her a drink. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. Her face twisted, contorted into sadness. You’d almost hoped she hadn’t remembered. She doesn’t deserve this kind of pain. She shouldn’t have to know this kind of loss. “The last thing that I remember, we were in the railcar when…”

She gasped, her eyes going wide. Her eyes darted toward you, searching for an answer to the unsaid question. But you couldn’t meet her gaze. If you did, you would cry. And if you cried, you would confirm her worst fears.

She looked to Hunter. “Where’s Tech?”

Hunter looked away, looked at you. You gave a nod. She had to know. “Omega, Tech didn’t make it.”

You dropped Omega’s hand, letting your hand come to rest on Hunter’s shoulder. You gave it a squeeze. You’d meant what you said, that he shouldn’t have to shoulder all this responsibility. You felt bad for making him say it, but you suppose she would only believe the news from him.

“We have to go back!” Omega said. “What if he’s hurt? He—He needs us! Tell him, Wrecker! We can’t just leave him!”

You looked at Wrecker, seeing his eyes squeeze shut. Oh, that must have killed him. That must have confirmed every dark thought that swirled in his gentle mind. Was it too soon to force everyone into a group hug?

“Omega,” you said, reaching out, stopping her from jumping out of the bed. “You saw him. He calculated the odds right before he did it. He knew his chances, and he’s seldom wrong.”

“NO!” Omega smacked your hand away. “Tech’s not gone! You know he’s not! He—He can’t be!”

Her face screwed up as the tears began to fall. Hunter took your place, wrapping his arms around her. She sobbed into his chest. Your heart clenched at the sight. She was alive, but she was hurting. And you weren’t sure what to do about that. Nothing that you said would help her. Nothing you said would bring him back.

You rose to your feet, glancing between the members of your family. “I-I need to go,” you mumbled, stumbling out of the room.

You didn’t make it very far, nearly collapsing into a seat at the bar. Your shoulders trembled as you tried to keep your sobs at bay. Until that moment, it hadn’t quite hit you that he was gone. You knew he was. You were there when he fell. You saw the calmness in his eyes, his acceptance of his fate. You could feel the unspoken words on the tip of his tongue as he said his final words. You felt the tremble of the railcar, the panic in your chest as the line snapped, as he plummeted…Going, going, gone.

You’d lived through all of that, but a naïve sort of part of you had hoped. Had prayed to the Maker, to the Force, to whatever cosmic being there was that controlled Tech’s fate that he had made it. But at that altitude? With a railcar plummeting with him? Even if he survived the fall, the railcar landing on him would surely do him in. Tech had accepted his death, but you couldn’t.

How could you? He had meant everything to you. He was the air you breathed, the reason you stayed with the Batch for so long. When the war ended, you had no reason to stay. Your contract with the Republic ended the moment that battles stopped. But he…He gave you one look, one unspoken plea, and you stayed.

What was the point now?

You lifted your head as Wrecker collapsed into a seat next to you. He stared at the bar. Knowing that he wouldn’t make any move, you grabbed his hand, gave it a squeeze. “It’s not your fault,” you whispered. “There was nothing you could have done to change what happened.”

Maybe the words were partly said for your own peace of mind, but it brought neither you nor Wrecker any belief. “He was gonna ask ya out when we got back to Pabu,” he mumbled. “He knew you liked looking at tha stars, so he planned a midnight picnic. Was gonna tell you every fact he knew about every star, planet, comet in tha sky.”

“…Oh.” You weren’t sure what else to say. What could you say? How could express the remorse of never getting to experience a future you so badly craved?

“He wanted to come back to ya. He was supposed to come back to ya. And I’m the reason he didn’t. You should hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Wrecker,” you said. You squeezed his hand. “I meant what I said. His fate was sealed when he went out with me to make repairs.”

“I saved you. I should have saved him, too. I could have saved him.”

Your bottom lip trembled. “He made you get me first. He made his choice. Wrecker, he knew his fate. You…You did everything he wanted you too. Okay? So don’t, don’t feel bad about what happened.”

The sound of two glasses hitting the bar pulled you from your conversation with Wrecker. When you looked up, Cid was sliding you and him a couple of drinks. Your stomach twisted. You didn’t like the look in her eyes. There was something she wasn’t telling you. “Here,” she said. “These are on the house.”

You pushed the glass in front of you away. “Nothing ever comes for free with you, Cid.”

Wrecker pushed his glass, too. “It won’t help.”

Cid was silent for a beat. “I’m sorry about Goggles. I always liked him.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Wrecker said.

You watched Cid. She had her arms crossed over her chest, one of her clawed fingers tapping anxiously. You sat a little straighter, sniffed back a couple of your tears. No matter what grief you were experiencing, you needed to keep your mind sharp. You had walked right back into the lion’s den. You needn’t give Cid any opportunity to betray you.

Wrecker noticed, too. “What’s with you?” he grunted.

Cid wagged one finger at him. “You know, I tried to look out for you kids. But you got too much heat on you. And you brought it here, to my place of business! I had to make the best of a bad situation.”

You watched the rage contort on Wrecker’s face. Oh, you don’t know if you had ever seen him so mad before. You almost expected him to reach across the bar and kill Cid with his bare hands. Instead, he growled, “What did you do?”

“Sorry, Muscles. Sorry, Killer.”

The doors to the parlor slid open. You were immediately on your feet, shoved behind Wrecker as a group of commando clones entered the parlor, their blasters raised. One shot at Wrecker, and he charged, more stun bolts firing at him. One hit you, and you went down easily, not able to put the same kind of fight as Wrecker. As you fell, you prayed to the Maker that Hunter got away—or at least that he convinced Omega to leave you all behind if he wanted to play hero.

The commando clones had you and Wrecker kneeling with your hands bounds behind two of them, maybe another half dozen behind you, all of their blasters raised at the door, waiting for Hunter. Hemlock stood beside you, watching you curiously as you avoided his gaze. He knew something. He knew something about Tech. Your eyes fell to the case he was holding, wondering what its contents were. Was it Tech’s head? His helmet? Some other cruel piece of his life, of his memory to taunt the fact that you all lost?

Hunter emerged from the back, his blaster raised. You let out a breath. At least Omega wasn’t with him. At least she might have escaped. He wouldn’t have come out unless he was sure she was long gone.

“That’s not very strategic, Hunter,” Hemlock said. “You don’t need to use your enhanced senses to know you’re outnumbered.”

Hemlock turned to Cid, raising the case. “The Empire thanks you for your assistance,” he said, passing the case to the Trandoshan.

Oh. It was just credits. Maybe Hemlock wasn’t so cruel to taunt you all with Tech’s death using whatever part of him they uncovered.

Cid and Hunter shared a look, before Hemlock said, “Our business is done. Leave.”

Cid’s head dropped. She turned, walking past you and Wrecker. She paused for a second, looking like she wanted to tell you something. Maybe an apology. You weren’t sure. All you knew was, whatever she had to say died in her throat as you reared your head back, spitting at her. Childish, sure. Gross, definitely. But Cid didn’t deserve your respect. Not now. Not after she sold you all out.

Hemlock turned his attention back to Hunter. “Please, consider your next move very carefully. I would hate for this to end poorly for all of you. Here is how this is going to go. You will lower your blaster and hand over Omega. And I will allow you to keep breathing.”

“Omega’s not going anywhere with you,” Hunter growled.

“Oh. Well, who knew clones are so paternal? Fascinating,” Hemlock said. He paused for a moment. “I was saddened to learn of your friend’s demise. What was his name? Oh, yes, Tech.”

You let out a growl. He didn’t deserve to say Tech’s name. What right did he have to talk about Tech?

Hemlock glanced back at you, his eyebrows raised. As he took in your expression, he turned more fully. He reached out, a finger running down your cheek. You fought the urge to bite him. That wouldn’t end well. “Ah, yes, the girlfriend, right?” he mused. Not technically. You and Tech never made anything official. “From what I gathered, the two of you were rather…intimate. I didn’t know clones could do that, either. Though, I suppose his form of intimacy is far different than a…normal human, wouldn’t you say?”

“Don’t you dare talk about him,” you spat. “You have no right.”

“So protective,” he said. Chuckling to himself, he turned back to Hunter. Beside you, Wrecker growled, only to be hit with a blaster by one of the clones holding you all captive. One of the commando clones handed him something. You couldn’t quite see what it was. “I’m afraid this was all I could salvage. Consider it a gift.”

He tossed the object at Hunter’s feet, and you could finally see what it was. A sob caught in your throat. No. No. No, no, no. If that was all they managed to recover, then that meant…Another sob escaped you before your could stop it.

“To lose one of your own, it must weigh heavily on you as their leader.” Hemlock glanced back at the clones. Several of them pressed their weapons into Wrecker. One of them reached out, grabbing you by the hair, yanked your head back. He pressed his blaster into your temple. You wondered how eager he was to shoot. At least if you died, then you could be with Tech. “And if you don’t lower the blaster now, you will lose more.”

Wrecker shook his head. You couldn’t do the same, not with the way you were being held, so you did your best to convey your message in your eyes. Don’t lower your blaster. We’ll be fine.

Still, Hunter slowly lowered the blaster and set it on the floor. He picked up Tech’s goggles, the glassiness in his eyes clear.

“Wise decision,” Hemlock said. He motioned to the clones, and two of them stepped forward to bind Hunter’s wrists. They pushed him to where you and Wrecker were kneeling on the ground.

Another clone came from the back and reported, “Sir, the girl is not in the office.”

“She’s long gone,” Hunter said. “Like I said, Omega’s not going anywhere with you.”

“Hmm. We’ll see.”

Oh, how could Hunter have been so right and so wrong all at the same time? Omega was, indeed, long gone, but she’d been taken by Hemlock. Despite your family’s best efforts, no one could stop Hemlock. Part of you wished that Omega had listened to Hunter, that she escaped and left you all behind. But the other part of you understood. She’s lost too much. If she lost you, Wrecker, and Hunter to the Empire…You weren’t sure how she would survive that kind of heartache. But now, the three of you and Echo floated through space, with no idea on where to go. Your mission had been a failure—you didn’t have the first clue where Hemlock’s base of operations was. Everything that you all fought—everything that you all lost—was for nothing.

Eventually, Hunter told Echo to fly you all back to Pabu. Returning there and clearing all of your minds before making the next move was important. Everyone’s emotions were still high. Even if you all could come to a decision, could fall upon some useful information, there was no guarantee that a rescue operation would be successful. While Omega was in more danger the longer she was in Hemlock’s control, it would do her no good if all of you were captured trying to save her.

You spent the journey laying in Tech’s bunk. Your face pressed into his pillow, bundled up in his covers, trying to commit his scent to memory. His bunk always smelled clean. Crosshair, back in the days of the Republic, once told you that Tech had been incredibly messy before you were assigned to the team. But the moment Tech met you, he went out of his way to keep his area as clean as could be. Back then, you thought Tech was just trying to be kind, to make you feel welcome. Now, you realized he was trying to impress you.

Tears burned at your eyes at the memory. You tried blinking them away, focusing on the scribbles on the wall of Tech’s bunk. Most of them were about ship repairs that he would be doing with you, or upgrades to weapons. But there was one in the corner, near his pillow, that caught your eye.

In his messy scrawl, he had written out a series of steps to win a woman’s heart. Most of them were checked off, save for three. Step 7. Take her on a date—make sure it’s something she would enjoy. Step 8. Kiss her—refer to holofilms for best approach. Step 9. Ask her to be yours—let it be her choice.

You let out a choked laugh, running your fingers over the words. Wrecker was right. Tech had been planning to ask you out. Oh, he had planned everything out. You wondered how long he had this plan. What you would give to have him back for just a moment, to ask him every question you ever wanted to ask, to listen to his voice, to be with him, to tell him you love him, too.

When the Marauder landed, you reluctantly left the comfort of Tech’s bunk, joining the boys. As you walked out of the ship, you saw Phee waiting. She wore a bright smile on her face, her eyes twinkling. Considering your abrupt departure, you had no doubt that she had a million questions she wanted to ask about the mission.

“Didn’t think you guys would be back from your secret mission so soon,” she teased. “Did you get what you were looking for?”

You looked at her, and shook your heard. It was one thing to tell Cid that the mission was a failure—she didn’t really care about your family. But to tell Phee? Who had gone out of her way to bring you guys to a place to a call home? Who showed time and time again that she cared, even if she had a funny way of going about it? It hurt.

Her smile didn’t waiver. She understand yet. “Ah, well, that’s okay. I’m sure you guys’ll get ‘em next time! Say, what’s the long face’s for? The mission wasn’t that bad was it?”

Hunter squeezed your shoulder. You reached up, squeezed his hand back. Behind you, you could hear Wrecker shuffle his feet and the quiet whhrr of Echo’s scomp as he fiddled with it. No one offered an explanation.

“Geez, you guys look rough. Must’ve been real bad out there.” Phee glanced between the four of you, her smile falling. “Say, where’s Brown Eyes? Where’s the kid?”

You opened your mouth but no words came out. You looked back at Wrecker, Hunter, and Echo, but none of them seemed keen to answer. Phee seemed to know, though. You all wouldn’t be so put out, so mournful looking, if something bad hadn’t happened. When you looked back at her, she had stepped closer to you, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder.

“I don’t know what happened, but I’m sorry,” she said.

Your lip quivered. Kriff. You couldn’t take this. None of this was supposed to happen. You all were supposed to find out where Crosshair was, you were supposed to rescue him. Everyone was supposed to be reunited. You all were supposed to come back to Pabu and live as normal a life as you could manage. You weren’t supposed to lose Tech. Omega wasn’t supposed to be captured.

Shrugging off Phee’s hand, you ran off. No one bothered to follow you, to call after you. For that, you were grateful. You didn’t want to be around anyone right. Not for a while.

You settled on the docks. It was nearly dusk when the Marauder landed, so most of the fishermen had docked their boats and returned to their families with whatever they managed to catch. It was the perfect place for you. Almost no one around to bother you. You were as alone as you felt.

Sitting on the edge of the dock, you let your legs hang over. You leaned all the way back so that you stared at the sky. The beautiful reds and oranges soon faded into a black abyss. The stars started to peak out, winking down at you. Once upon a time, you would have killed for the opportunity to watch the stars like this. There was seldom free time like this in the last few years. The stars once brought you comfort, providing you a map for your way back home. But it was different now.

The stars no longer brought you comfort. What was the point in the stars guiding you home if he wasn’t there to go with you?

Your eyes fluttered shut. For the first time since the incident, you let yourself cry. Sure, tears had escaped before, when you didn’t want them to. But you had been holding them at bay this entire time, trying to focus on the tasks at hand. Now, there was nothing to do. There was nothing you could do. Nothing, except mourn. A sob wracks your chest. You cover your face with your hands, letting everything you’d been holding in out.

You cried, and you cried, and you cried. Until there were no tears left. Until you uncovered your face, staring back at the stars, sniffling.

A steady clunk! of a set of boots alerted you to a guest. You had a one-in-four shot of guessing who’d come to comfort you, but you didn’t care enough to see who it was. Did it matter? None of those four people were the one you wanted. And none of those four people was the kid you were supposed to protect.

You saw Hunter’s face as he finally reached you, sitting down beside you. He said nothing. Hunter was never really the comforting type. He’d gotten better since Omega joined the team, learning to navigate his emotions so that he could be a better parent. But this wasn’t the sort of thing he’d been prepared for. None of you were prepared for this.

“I asked Shep to set you aside some dinner if you decide you’re hungry,” he said. “He said you can come into his house anytime you decide you’re hungry and take it. It has a note on it for you, in his fridge.”

“Thank you,” you said.

A silence passes over you. There’s so much to say. There’s so much you want to say. So much you aren’t sure how to say. How do you navigate this sort of sudden loss? What was the right way to grieve? What was the right way to comfort? A thousand possibilities flooded your mind. None of them felt right. Finally, you settled on an apology.

“I’m sorry for running off,” you said. “If I worried you, I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intent.”

Hunter shrugged. “I knew where you were. I figured you just…needed time.”

“No amount of time can bring him back.” You sat up, looking out at the dark sea. If you jumped in now, you might sink fast enough under the weight of your armor that, by the time Hunter dove in after you, it would be too late. Even with his enhanced senses, the water would drown it all out. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save Omega.”

“You’re sounding like Wrecker now,” he said. He had heard your conversation with him back at Cid’s. Usually, he kept quiet about conversations he overheard. But things were different now. No one knew how to navigate this sort of hurt. “They got us while we were down. I don’t know if there was anything we could do to save her.”

You rested your hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “We’ll get her back.”

“We will,” he affirmed. He reached for something that you couldn’t quite see. When he brought his hands back into your view, you gasped. “I, uh, came to give you these.”

“Hunter, no—”

“I talked with Wrecker and Echo. We all agreed that he would have wanted you to have them. Anything of his, it’s yours. But these especially.”

As he pressed the goggles into your hands, a tear rolled down your cheek. Oh, this was too much. How could you look at these goggles and not want to jump off the dock? How could you look at the cracked lenses and not picture his eyes squeezing shut as he hit the ground? How could you not imagine the way he looked at you, in the split second before he made his choice? How could you not see of how he looked before, when you all were leaving for the mission, the fire in his eyes as he searched for a way to rescue his brother? How could you not dream of the soft look in his eyes the night before, when you rested your head on his shoulder and told him how you wished the two of you could have a peaceful life? You ran your thumb over the light that used shone red, indicating his constant filming of his surroundings. It was off now. Part of you wondered why, but you dismissed the thought. It was probably broken in the fall.

“What do we do now?” you ask. You look up at Hunter to see him already looking at you. His eyes were glassy still. You wondered if he had allowed himself the privacy to cry yet, or if he was still playing the part of the stoic leader. “Echo’s probably going to return to Rex soon. Wrecker’s in no position to fight. Kark, neither of us are either. We don’t have the first clue where to look. We don’t have—”

Hunter squeezed your shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. I don’t know how, but…We’ve faced horrible odds before.”

“We had a hundred percent success rate back then.”

“I don’t know what we’ll do,” he said, “but if we stick together, we’ll figure it out. I know we will.”

You wanted to push back, to argue, to feel something other than this grief, but you didn’t want to hurt Hunter in the process. So you let it go. Instead, you asked, “Could you tell me about? What he was like before I joined the team?”

Hunter let out a chuckle. “When we were cadets, Tech was a complete menace. Worse than the rest of us, if you could believe it. Always challenged the Kaminoans at every turn.”

You laughed, the picture forming in your mind. You leaned back against as Hunter talked, and soon he did, too, telling you everything about what little Tech had been like. For a moment, you forgot all that you’d just endured. For a moment, you felt at peace. But then you felt the weight of Tech’s goggles in your hands, and you were thrown back into the reality you were faced it.

Tech was gone—you were sure of it. But he died to make sure his family would live. You weren’t going to let him die in vain. No matter what it took, no matter what you had to do, you would get Omega and Crosshair back.

You swore it.

101 notes · View notes