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hesthermay · 1 year

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𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

PAIRING: sergeant hunter x f!royal!reader

SUMMARY: on a planet in the same system where the bad batch has just finished a mission, a group who's core belief is constructed of hate and discrimination has partnered with the separatists to take the capital and kidnap the queen. the mission brief is short and void of details, and the brothers have no idea what they're stepping into when they land on the small planet, but it amounts to more than they could have expected. with the first attempt to take the queen a failure, they know more is to come and can only say yes when her majesty herself asks clone force 99 to help her bring this to an end once and for all. it will not be easy, they will have to be unforgiving and perhaps even ruthless, but in the end light must always prevail over the darkness that is hate.

WORD COUNT: 3.8k (wowza!)

RATING + WARNINGS: general audiences, mature themes, angst. use of she/her, sexism existing in star wars, mentions of death, ruthless queen vibes, is this even good

NOTES: i have returned and am in my star wars era. slay! expect my sw masterlist to grow from here on out, i have multiple oc's and lots of ideas. anyways, this has potential for a part 2 so let me know what ya think! happy reading :P

STAR WARS MASTERLIST

Clone Force 99 did not know much about the situation they were walking into, the mission briefing having been almost nonexistent due to the urgency of everything. They were told it was an emergency, that things had escalated quickly on a planet not too far from where they currently were, that an attack was made against the queen and aid was needed immediately. It was not the first time they had been sent on a mission that deviated from what a regular clone soldier would do, but the haste of everything, the exempted details, had left the Bad Batch wondering as they landed the Marauder on the soft grass below.

The air smelt of smoke and the sky was slightly full of ash as it loomed over them, sunlight no longer streaming through the branches of the trees lining the clearing in the forest they currently stood in. One thing they had been told was steer clear of the landing pad, a small effort to keep their ship out of view and knowledge of their presence at a minimum; at least for the moment. Hunter’s nose scrunched at the stench, senses not quite overwhelmed by it but could most definitely be on the way to it. They had seen just what was burning as they flew over the expanse of greenery to reach the capital, and it only fueled the theories the men threw back and forth about exactly what was going on here—buildings, shops and homes, were lit up in flames as people as tiny as specks fled into the streets. Even the large and intricate castle was suffering from the destruction of the attack, the east wing beginning to crumble from the mercilessness of the fire.

Now that he was out in the open, Hunter could faintly hear blaster fire.

“And we’re just supposed to wait here?” Wrecker questioned as he looked around the clearing, head moving this way and that. Beside him, Tech hummed as his eyes scanned the datapad in front of him, helmet already on.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “The general should be here momentarily to give us further information.”

As if on cue, a man clad in armor stepped through the treeline. His head was held high but there was a limp in his step and blood mixed with ash covering his face, a sign that he had been fighting and fighting hard. The crease in between his brows did not lessen when he spotted the group, but they knew that didn’t mean he wasn’t thankful for their arrival.

“99?” The man questioned as he drew closer, and it was the sergeant who stepped forward to answer, assuming his role of the leader with ease.

“Yes, sir. General Stowe, I’m assuming?”

“Yes, sir.” The man’s deep voice echoed his response and respect. It was not a common thought on this planet to discriminate against the clones that made up the Republic Army, but unfortunately you could never be sure when visiting a place for the first time.

“What happened here?”

General Stowe sighed, the lines on his face deepening, if that was even possible. “About a year ago,” he drawled, “a group of men moved into the capital, and it wasn’t long before people started to figure out they had some…controversial views on the status of our leader. They’ve been aggressive thus far, but nothing ever to this degree; never as violent as this. We believe they made a deal with the Separatists to kidnap the queen because they have a battalion's worth of droids accompanying them.”

There was a pause, a moment of silence as the brothers processed the words now out in the open, before Hunter looked back at the general, back straight and eyes determined. “Well, let’s get going then, shall we, boys?” he directed it over his shoulder, but his head remained forward as he removed the helmet from under his arm. There’s a response from the men behind him, a confirmation that they were ready for this, and then they were on their way. Stowe nodded his head at the leader when they seemed to catch each other's gaze, side by side as they trekked out of the forest.

“General Stowe, what exactly are these ‘controversial views’ you speak of?” Tech questioned from the back of the group.

Another sigh, deep and heavy. Things seemed to be weighing heavy on the older man’s shoulders as he responded. “That she’s a woman.”

The answer was simple and yet not, all at the same time. That was it? That was the reason? There wasn’t a Bad Batcher one who thought that that made sense. After a spell of silence, where they weren’t sure if the general was looking for a response or even what they would have said, he continued. “They haven’t exactly been shy about voicing their thoughts on Her Majesty, whether it be the way she runs things, things that aren’t even in her control, or the fact that she thinks she’s capable of doing her duty when she's ‘just some kriffing bitch with a crown.’’

The swell of anger was fast and strong as it took up space in Hunter’s chest. This wasn’t about some leader being reckless with their decisions, with the lives of their people, wasn’t about a person in power being cruel and malicious. It was about a woman being targeted for simply existing.

“We know it’s not just about the queen either. They’ve been aggressive towards women in the capital, but they haven’t actually been outright violent until now. So this is…”

“Just hate,” Hunter finished for him, gruff and serious. “It’s just about hate.”

Another stretch of silence passed. Things stewed in the minds of Clone Force 99 for a few moments, the lack of natural noise in the forest giving them no reprieve from their thoughts.

“Where is the queen, anyways?” It’s Echo’s voice that permeated the space next, light and curious as usual, but still serious. It came as no surprise when Stowe heaved yet another sigh, though this one could count as a groan as well. Oh no.

“Location is unknown. She went missing shortly after the start of the attack.” His eyes remained forward, not needing to turn to the men around him for them to see just how bad saying it felt.

Still, it didn’t stop Crosshair from butting in, voice incredulous as ever, harboring the slightest bite. “You lost her?”

The sergeant wanted to reprimand him, but couldn’t find it in himself to do so.

“Now I’m not sure what you’ve heard about her, but Queen Y/N is a very capable and skilled fighter, very…very stubborn, too.” A knowing exasperation crept into his words, as if this so-called stubbornness was a daily adversary of his. “We have a plan in place for if something like this happened, but it’s been reported that she stopped to save a handmaid and was quickly outnumbered.”

Conversation ceased as the group drew nearer to the castle. The seriousness of everything began to weigh heavier on their shoulders as they were spotted by some of the attackers immediately after breaking the treeline. They meandered around the courtyard as if they owned the place, as if they deserved to be there, but they were taken care of easily, quick work for such a capable group.

-: ✧

The fight that awaited them inside the castle, however, was not an easy one. There were more of them than they had originally anticipated, making them wonder for just a brief moment how so many people could share something in such a hateful thought. Nonetheless, it was the Bad Batch and castle guard left standing when the fight had been won, when the enemy had been defeated.

“Good work, boys,” Hunter spoke into his comm, standing in the gardens surrounded by broken and blasted droids. “Anybody got eyes on the queen?”

After a moment, he was met with a resounding no. His helmet turned in the direction of the general who stood a few feet away from him. He shook his head, and the worn man repeated the question into his own comm device, but was left disappointed after receiving the same answer.

“Alright, Sergeant Hunter and I will be heading to the throne room. If you’ve found the leaders of this failed excursion, round ‘em up and meet us there.” Though he furrowed his brows in confusion, he repeated the same command to his brothers before following Stowe, kicking droid parts out of his way.

Tech and Wrecker were already in the throne room, along with about half of the castle guard, when they entered through the large double doors. The room, with its towering columns and intricate ceiling, was tainted by what they saw.

Lined up on their knees were two men, beaten and bloodied, but still alive. They were a part of the attack, and were the supposed leaders; though they looked nothing like leaders now, more closely resembling a coward begging to be spared. As he was looking down at them, the doors opened once again and in came a few more guards, flanked by Crosshair and another injured and restrained man.

The sniper led the man forward to be lined up next to the others, and that was when Hunter realized that each of them were adorned by the color red in some way, a marker of their rank in this operation. His jaw clenched as he looked over at his brothers, seeing the same color painted on their armor but knowing they were nothing like these criminals, these scum.

“Her Majesty will want to speak with you upon her return, and I will not indulge you with false promises of being met with kindness and forgiveness. An enemy she is not to be made of, and that is exactly what you have made her.” General Stowe’s words offered no comfort to the men, but they were not meant to. Still, they made the clones more curious about the queen, and who exactly she was and what she did.

Finally, the doors opened and the last member of their squad entered the large room. Echo had his helmet off and tucked under his scomplink arm, the other one held out to usher a woman into the room. For a moment, Hunter wondered if she was the queen, but something told him she wasn’t, and when Stowe greeted her as the head advisor his suspicions were only confirmed.

“There’s still no eyes on the queen, which is not good,” the general stated.

“No, it’s not,” Advisor Calianna agreed. “We need to send out some groups to find her, she might not even be in the castle anymore.”

Tech spoke up next, but Hunter had stopped listening, their words slowly fading out. His head turned away, facing the entrance. He sensed you, still in the corridor; his ears picked up on the rapid drumming of your heart and his nose prickled at the metallic scent of blood wafting from you.

You were alive, you were moving, and you were here.

Crosshair noticed his brother’s silence first, noting the direction his head was craned in, and he nudged Tech beside him. The clone was not phased, continuing his discussion with the two officials, and it was not a moment later that the massive doors gave their signature creak once again, the noise filling the entire room. It was only then that everyone paused, their attention diverted. There, leaned against the wood of one of the doors, was you.

The doors were not opened all the way, only as much as you could manage and even that had caused you to halt, catching your breath. You, Her Majesty Queen Y/N, were alive and breathing, but you were hurt. Your face was covered in crimson, and Hunter’s keen eyes zeroed in on the gash going across the bridge of your nose to your right cheek. Your dress, long and golden and no doubt once magnificent, was torn and ripped and barely hanging off your shoulders, stained with blood as well. As your feet carry you into the room with a heavy limp, they notice that they’re bare and leave behind red prints.

For a moment, everyone was left frozen at the sight of you. You had had the fight of your life, had pushed yourself to the limit and the blade that was clutched in your right hand, coated in more blood, was a testament to that. Dark droplets landed on the bottom of your dress as it pooled on the ground around you. “Your Majesty!” Calianna gasped, rushing forward to meet you as you fully entered the room. It would seem that the woman had not noticed the look on your face, but Hunter certainly had.

You were not in the mood to be consoled and coddled, the rage in your eyes a stark contrast to the blank expression you wore. The only thing you gave the people around you was a deep furrow of your brow, drawn together in anger and determination. Kriff, maybe even spite too; Clone Force 99 was beginning to get the impression that you were not supposed to walk away from whatever it was that you had. The woman fretting over you was ignored, you not letting her slow your pace. Your eyes looked at nothing else other than the men lined up in a neat and pathetic row; the sight of them only seemed to spur you on, lip curling slightly.

“Are these them?”

There was a ferocity coating your words, ringing in their ears as they hit them, and none of the brothers could muster up the courage to break from the frozen state and answer you. It was Stowe who nodded his head at your question, stepping forward and addressing you softly but firmly.

The closer you drew to the group, the more detailed your injuries became. It wasn’t just the gash on your face that was bleeding, your lip was busted and you had suffered a blow to the temple. Bruises were beginning to form on your arms as they swung slightly at your side, and there would surely be scabs on your knuckles. There was a long rip on the left side of your dress skirt, and your leg slipped out of the slit with every step; your knee was swollen and bruising, clearly the cause for the heavy limp you sported. And still, you never stopped and never slowed as you trekked up the steps leading to the throne, where the perpetrators were lined up.

“How do you feel?” you asked them, though they never lifted their eyes from the ground in front of them. “Do you feel good?”

As you passed the group of guards and soldiers, they saw that the back of your dress was no better than the front; more rips littered the fabric covering your back and the expanse was stained a dark crimson.

“Do you feel…accomplished?” You stood over the men, looking down as they cowered on the floor before you. “Do you feel like the men you were when you started this?”

You were met with no answer, though you were not expecting one. “I know there are more of you, hidden away like rats afraid of daylight; and I know you’re working with Count Dooku. You will crawl back to them, and tell them that you failed. That you were the only ones to survive and it is because I let you. You will tell Count Dooku, personally, that I meant what I said—that it is not in me to be afraid, I was not born to be afraid. I was born to fight, and that is exactly what I plan to do.”

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air as you remained in place, letting seconds pass by with your fiery gaze placed upon the men in front of you. It was a moment to let them process it, let it sink in and stick in their dim minds.

And then, you dropped the blade and it clattered to the ground. You turned, and it was then that your eyes seemed to take notice of the others in the room. You scanned each soldier in black and red armor, all with their helmets off and faces showing. Your gaze lingered on the clone with gray hair for a moment, zeroed in on the rifle slung over his back. Making your way forward, you stopped in your tracks as you went to pass him. “Take care of all of them but one. He’ll be our messenger,” you ordered, but not harshly. You were not loud, you were not aggressive in tone, you were not emotional. You were calm, serious and merciless with your command.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Crosshair responded quietly, eyes squinted at her as he reached around to remove his rifle. With that, you continued limping forward, your aid rushing forward after a moment to help you out of the room. Clone Force 99 shared a look with one another before the shots rang out.

-: ✧

It was hours later that the Bad Batch saw the queen again. You had been whisked away to be looked over and treated immediately after leaving the throne room, and it was not until the sun was beginning to set and everything was bathed in an orange glow that they stood before you again.

You were on a balcony overlooking the capital, back facing the soldiers as you leaned against the stone. Hunter hesitated to disturb you, eyes lingering on you even when he knew she shouldn’t. Your hair was pinned up and your dress had an open back, revealing gashes covered in bacta, but you had sensed him this time and without even turning your head fully, you spoke to them directly. “I was told to let them breathe for a bit, I hope it doesn’t bother you.”

You sounded tired. None of them knew how you were even standing after everything that had happened, yet there you were. “No, ma’am,” the leader answered, kicking himself for the slight stutter in his words. “We just wanted to check in with you before it got too late, if that’s alright.”

Fully facing them now, you were haloed in the warm light of the sunset and you looked absolutely magnificent. The gash on your nose and cheek was going to scar, but it didn’t take away anything from the grace and elegance you possessed. “Of course, I actually wanted to speak with you myself.”

“You did?” Wrecker questioned, voice louder than needed in the calmness of the area. You only chuckled at him, grin small but present as you nodded.

“Yes, I did. Is everything handled?” This question was directed towards Crosshair, and he nodded his head once.

“The messenger was sent on his way,” he answered, and it was obvious to all that there was more he wanted to say. The question was, would he speak his mind or mind his tongue? “Are you sure about this, though?”

There was no evidence of offense on your face. You only nodded firmly, voice serious. “Yes, I am. I’m not afraid of Count Dooku, but I am not so delusional that I won’t admit that I need help. I need your help.” Your eyes, shining in the lowlight of the evening, landed on each one of them and took the time to take them in for all they were.

Perhaps it was that their whole lives had been spent training for and fighting in a war and there weren’t many pretty things to see in a life spent on battlefield after battlefield that made their hearts seize in their chests at the look, or maybe it was just that your gaze was so piercing because it was driven by the truth in your words and the determination to do what was right and serve justice where justice was due.

“Can I trust you to help me end this? Because that is exactly what I plan to do, stop this before it gets any more out of hand. I can’t do it on my own and I’m going to need people on my side that I can trust without a doubt, and,” she grinned, “not to speak illy of your characters, I don’t know you. But, I do want to trust you, you risked your lives helping today and I am more grateful than you could imagine. Can I?”

Again, no one seemed to want to be the first to break the frozen state and actually use their words. No one seemed to want to take the leap of faith required to dive headfirst into this fight, into this cause, as uncharted and diligent as it was. But eventually, as though the same wavelength connected each mind, Hunter came to his decision first and the rest followed; trusting their brother’s judgment and direction the same as any other day.

“Of course you can, Your Majesty,” the long haired man answered, nodding his head. “Your fight, is our fight now.”

“Yeah!” Wrecker cheered. “Don’t you worry, Queenie, we got this!”

Not a moment later, Tech’s voice joined in. “Well, I suppose we do have much to offer the cause,” a hand reached up to adjust the goggles on his face.

“You can count on us, Your Majesty,” Echo assured, a small smile stretching his lips as his eyes sparkled ever so slightly.

Now, all eyes gazed at the last man remaining, the sniper who personally fulfilled the queen’s wishes. Crosshair was sometimes hard to predict, but all knew his temperament and aversion to things that didn’t contribute to the main goal. If it wasn’t helping them win, it wasn’t really worth it, right? But this, this fight built upon the backs of hate and discrimination and evil, was in the way of the goal of victory. The separatists, and those aligned with them, were the enemy and those enemies were here now. “I suppose this place could do with some cleaning up.”

The grin on your face earlier had grown into something akin to dazzling. It was a full smile now, teeth on display and illuminating the space everyone was huddled in. Unbeknownst to the group, they had all gravitated towards the woman, huddled around her almost shoulder to shoulder as she called on them for help. “Wonderful,” you mused, and they could hear it. The knowing lilt in your voice, the glint of mischief reflecting off the word. “I think we may just do something here, boys. Huzzah,” you concluded softly, hand placed in front of you and waiting.

Though they again hesitated, after sharing a glance they one by one placed their own hands on top of yours. The allegiance was formed, and the wheels were now in motion.

all works on this blog belong to hesthermay.tumblr.com: do not copy, repost onto other sites, or claim my content as your own.

#the witch: writes #—signed; hunter #hunter the bad batch #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter #the bad batch #the clone wars #tcw #hunter x reader #hunter x you #hunter tbb x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x you #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #the bad batch imagine #the bad batch one shot #—star wars

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stardust9905 · 1 year

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Hunter x Princess!Reader {Multi-Ch. Fic}: "It’s Always Been You" [Part 2]

Synopsis: Hunter has been hired to be your personal royal bodyguard for a few months now. Amidst navigating secret crushes and the social pressures from your parents, regarding both Hunter’s and your own behaviours, things go sideways at one of the castle’s formal events. Coming from a sheltered life, how will you cope and escape with Hunter? Will you ever tell each other how you feel? How will your parents react afterwards if you do?

WARNINGS: Mentions themes of classism and racism (against Clones). Mentions of misogynistic views of princesses’ behaviour. Reader is fem!coded, and referred to with the pronouns “she/her”. Reader wears a dress. Slightly suggestive mention of knife play (by Reader in a daydream); however it could also be interpreted as admiration for Hunter’s knife skills. Slight angst and jealousy from Hunter. Canon-based violence (blaster fire and hand-grenade). No use of "Y/N". Mostly fluff throughout !! Plus, fluffy ending !!

Word Count: 1454

A/N: Uploading [Part 2] right away because I literally wrote over like 4000 words before realizing how long it was getting lol ... My imagination ran wild with this one XD Hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist

:readmore:

Hunter slid behind cover, firing back at one of the perps again before making it under the same table as you.

…

“Why should you be taught self-defense? Princesses have more pressing matters to attend to that do not involve fooling around and running a muck. What’s the point of hiring you a body guard then?” The King had ranted and raved to you, even in front of poor Hunter who’d been standing stock still at attention off to the side of the throne room.

“You need to start getting your priorities straight, young lady. You are a princess for Maker’s sake! You do not need to be mingling with those of whom are lower than you.”

“But Father–”

“You will not speak out of turn–!”

“–what if there comes a time that Sergeant Hunter, or one of the other guards, won’t be able to get to me fast enough? Or worse if they get injured—even killed—in battle defending me? I need to also be able to protect myself or them if it comes down to it–”.

“Protect them?! Protect them-?! Wha–?” The King was flabbergasted as he made vague, careless gestures in Hunter’s direction.

“That clone isn’t worth your efforts. If he needs you to protect him, or if he dies or gets hurt out in the field protecting you– then he was never competent enough for the job in the first place!” At the time you’d been so shocked and heartbroken that you’d only stood in silence.

…

Remembering your father’s words stung. You’d wished your mother had spoken out, though even then it may not have done much good anyways. She may have in the end, but your head had been too busy trying not to cry in the moment, just tunnel-vision focused on your father’s audacity.

You had never actually found out how Hunter had felt afterwards. He was usually relatively quiet, all ‘dark & broody’ as you liked to joke with him. But, even now, you’ve yet to know if that’s more due to personality or orders from your parents.

…

Presently, you were so overwhelmed that you had covered your head with your arms. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been muffling your screams with tears going down your delicate cheeks until you felt Hunter gently pry your arms away to help you breathe properly.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying to be strong on your part. It’s just that after having lived such a sheltered life, and not being able to learn any self-defense… Well, aside from a few small mishaps in the seedier parts of the villages, you’d never been in such a large emergency.

“We need to go. Can you walk? I could carry you, but it’d be better if I had my arms free to have my knife and blaster at the ready.” Hunter spoke so controlled, so calmly that you believed you’d be safe with him. You knew he was a highly capable super-soldier who didn’t become a sergeant for nothing. He always seemed to find a way to make the world a little less scary.

“I can walk… Just wished I wasn’t in this damned heavy dress.” You frowned down slightly at your attire. You knew you looked good, but that didn’t help how inconvenient it was for anything other than aesthetics and showing socio-economic class status.

“Well, Princess, while that dress really does look good on you, if it isn’t too forward… We could always cut the skirt shorter or remove a few layers if it really comes down to it.”

You could hear Hunter’s smirk and half-joking tone, and suddenly your heads spinning again for a whole different reason. The title “Princess” never sounded better coming out of anyone else’s mouth until Hunter came along. The idea of him using his sharp vibro–knife to slice the fabric off you like it was nothing–

“Hey, you payin’ attention? Wanna repeat the plan back to me?” Bringing you out of your reverie, Hunter knows the effect he has on you, but now isn’t the time for distractions. No matter how badly he may want to indulge his or your fantasies.

“Uhhh… umm…” Your face heats up, praying and hoping your blush wasn’t showing too much. Or that if it was, that it could be played off as you still feeling flushed from your current situation… Which you supposed wasn’t technically incorrect no matter how you thought about it…

Hunter catches you daydreaming again, getting caught up in that ol’ habit of overthinking.

“Things are still chaotic, but we’re going to use that to our advantage to escape. Hopefully unnoticed by the bad guy, okay?”

“Okay” You’re back to being uncertain, but you have faith in Hunter.

“We’re not going back to your room–”

“Wha– Why–?”

“–it’s too much of a predictable location to hold over in.”

“Oh.” You almost seem disappointed, but you supposed it made sense. The blasts happened close enough to you that it made sense to figure you were the target. Either the perp had missed, or wanted to distract everyone while they went after your parents.

Hunter felt a twinge of sympathy for you. While he’d been relentlessly trained on how to handle stressful, life or death circumstances, you hadn’t. And now your own home’s safety was—quite literally—obliterated before your very eyes instantaneously.

“We’re making a break for the armoury. There’s passages in the castle down there for the help-staff and castle-guards to use to get around the castle. When I took on this assignment, my brother Tech helped me memorize the layout just in case. Good thing too since we can use it to lose the bomber. They’re easy to get lost in if you don’t know your way around. Lucky for us, my specialty is tracking and stealth.”

“Just like your namesake, right?” You asked tentatively, only just coming to the revelation that he may have earned the name ‘Hunter’, rather than picking it out as a nat-born name.

“Yes.” Hunter says patiently. “Here, take these”. Hunter hands you a smaller blaster and vibroknife. “Just click here to turn the safety back on–”

“The safety’s already off–?!”

“Ner cyar’ika– (My sweetheart)” Hunter coughs. “Princess, it’s a small blaster and I don’t have time to teach you how to properly use it. Point, shoot, fire multiple times if you have to. Don’t bother aiming for their limbs or head. You’ve had no practice and they can move those parts of them out of the way too easily. Aim centre-mass, where their heart is–”

Hunter rolls onto his side to show you on himself. “The centre of their chest is a bigger target, and more likely to kill—or at least slow them down a lot.”

You’re getting overwhelmed again. So much so that you just barely register that Hunter almost called you something in mando’a. ‘I’ll have to ask him about that later’

“Breathe for me okay? Your feelings are valid, but right now we need to go. I’m pretty sure the only reason we haven’t been caught yet is because people are still panicking around us.”

“Okay.” Your breaths are still shallow and laboured, but your more focused.

Hunter takes a few seconds to spy through the slim gap between the floor and tablecloth to survey if anyone stands out. “On my signal, we move out, duck and run with the crowd towards the back entrance under the grand stairwell, understood?”

Hunter is back to using his “Sergeant voice”. Any other situation you might’ve swooned over how commanding he could be. Right now, you just thanked your lucky stars he knew what to do. ‘Another thing to ask him should be secret self-defense lessons if we survive this.’

“Go!”

Hunter rolls out before you and, as soon as you’re out too, he’s helping you up and guiding you to run in front of him through the masses. This way he’s watching your back and is still able to aim over your shoulder if he needs to.

You’re clutching the front of your dress by your non-dominant hand so you don’t trip, while the other holds the blaster. You hope not to use it, but right now almost anything goes.

You both make it under the stairs and Hunter’s ramming his fist into the trigger to open it. You duck into the passage while Hunter locks it from the inside and shoots the panel for good measure. It won’t hold for long if the perp figures out where you went, but it’ll buy you both some more time.

Inside, you keep running down the halls, thanking the Maker you’re not wearing stilettos for once. You’re still wearing heels, but at least there’s less chances of twisting your ankles.

《 Part 1 | Part 3 》

***Reblogs keep posts alive, hashtags help the post continue to garner love. Feedback through comments is always welcome, and of course, likes are appreciated too. Thank you so much for reading!!! ☆♡☆ ~Ka'ra

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jedipoodoo · 2 years

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Secret Kingdoms Part Two (Sergeant Hunter x Reader)

Warnings: Reader gets threatened by the guards, Hunter gets a little violent on them

Read it on Ao3!

Serenno was cold. Count Dooku had graciously gifted “Princess Padme” a suite of stone rooms, two stone-faced maids, and two stone golems for guards to make sure you didn’t escape. One of the maids lit a fire in the tiny iron fireplace while the other laid out an outfit for you.

“Dinner is in an hour.” She said.

The two maids curtsied, and left without a word. The guards shut the door with the ominous clanking of a complicated lock, and your throat went dry.

An hour. An hour to plan an escape.

No, not yet. You knew the path from the courtyard to this room, but that was littered with guards and prying eyes. Everyone would see you, you couldn’t escape. Perhaps dinner would give you a better chance of studying Dooku’s foreboding castle and finding an escape route.

The dress was purple, with ruffled sleeves and a high empire-waist. Padme had always looked good in rich purples, and the royal family of Naboo had plenty of purple robes. This dress was a poor imitation, a badly dyed dress. You would know, you had dyed many fabrics before to make Padme into the best version of herself.

Getting yourself ready for a banquet should be simple enough, right?

You managed to take care of your hair so that it looked somewhat presentable, but you didn’t know how to style your own hair in the elaborate styles that Padme and the ladies of the Naboo court used

The dress was so heavy, perhaps the dye hadn’t really finished drying yet, and the gold woven into the sleeves was itchy, scratching at the skin of your arms. Did Dooku really think this was appropriate for a princess? Padme’s skin was so delicate this would have given her a rash, but your skin was worn and weathered by years of hard work.

Dooku fancied himself a king, but there was no substance behind his appearance. You’d just have to find a way to show his people.

The maids returned in time to close your dress, the sleeves made it difficult for you to reach the ties in the back, and the two silent guards walked you through the castle, leading you to the Banquet Hall.

The giant wood doors opened with an ominous creaking, and the hall was quiet.

Your heart raced with your mind. Was this supposed to be your wedding, would Dooku marry you before you had the chance to be rescued or could think to say no. You wrung your hands, palms slick with sweat, and the guards led you forward.

Thankfully, it appeared from the food and people seated at the long tables who couldn’t take their eyes off you, that this was an actual banquet.

The guards led you down the center of the Hall towards the table at the head of the room, beneath a grand stained glass window. It was hard to make out the image with the darkness of night outside, but it was certain to be magnificent in the sunlight.

One of the guards grunted, and you jumped, realizing that you had come to a stop at the throne, where Count Dooku was seated.

He stood from his throne, and you bowed your head, still terrified of being caught in your act.

“My Lord,” you whispered, in your best imitation of Padme.

Dooku stepped forward, taking your chin in his gloved hand to make you look up at him. “You are even more beautiful than I imagined, Princess. And more submissive than the rumors said.”

Your face flushed with heat. Padme definitely had more gumption in her than you did, Dooku must have been expecting that, but you still had no idea how you were going to escape! Better to let him think he had the upper hand until you had a trick or two up your sleeves. Your incredibly itchy sleeves.

Dooku raised his arms, stepping around you to address his people. “Tomorrow evening, I shall wed Princess Padme. In the morning, we shall launch our final attack on Naboo!”

Cheers errupted from Dooku’s court and your stomach sank. Marrying Padme would secure Dooku’s hold on the Naboo throne, but a swift and unmerciful attack would eradicate any resistance the people might still harbor to their new king. The one problem Dooku hadn’t foreseen was that you weren’t Padme, and you took a brief bit of pleasure at the thought that Dooku’s plot had already failed.

Dooku gave you a sickly sweet smile as the people went back to stuffing their faces.

“Enjoy yourself, my dear,” He took your hand and kissed it, “With you on my arm, no one will dare oppose us. The world is our to command.”

You had seen plenty of men like Dooku in the Naboo court, enough to know that when he said “we”, he truly meant “me”.

Despite the Count’s invitation to enjoy yourself, the two guards stayed at your back. It wasn’t like you were inclined to get to know the people plotting against your home anyway. You were shown to a seat next to Dooku’s, and servants brought you platters of pheasant and quail eggs, complete with frosted pastries and shiny fruits.

All this, and the people of Serenno were starving. It made you sick.

Even the gray-faced maids and butlers who served you looked gaunt and thin, watching as the Lords and Ladies stuffed their faces and spilled the leftovers on the floor. One maid even got desperate enough to take a bit of apple that landed next to a Lord’s boot. He smashed her fingers beneath his heel.

Dooku laughed. “Good show, Gunray!”

The squash-faced Lord laughed with his friends, toasting to their Count.

“Ah, your highness, you must meet my friends,” Dooku taunted you, “Lord Gunray of Nemoidia, and Archduke Poggle the Lesser of Geonosis were two of the first to offer me their support. My endeavor to take over Serenno and now Naboo has brought them much profit.” Dooku indicated the two to you.

You’d heard of Poggle before, he and the queen of Geonosis had insisted on a larger trade deal in Naboo, but King Ruwee thought it ridiculous to open weapons trade in the middle of peacetime. Geonosis had cut off all trade with Naboo after that, and Padme had suggested trade with the kingdom of Kamino instead.

“And of course you know Captain Ohnaka and his men from Florrum,” Dooku waved his goblet towards them. The mercenaries were drinking and dancing on the table, but Ohnaka seemed to be the only one who wasn’t enjoying the party. When he caught sight of you, he glared.

“O-of course,” You stammered.

The doors swung open, and you foolishly hoped it was the Naboo Army, led by Hunter, swarming to your rescue at Padme’s insistence. But only a tall, broad-shouldered, cloaked figure stood in the doorway, two longswords strapped to his back.

“Ah, Grievous, so nice of you to join us,” Dooku toasted him, but the rest of the room went silent again, but a distinct feeling of terror was evident in their eyes and pale cheeks as the hulking soldier made his way down the banquet hall.

“My liege,” He knelt reverently at Dooku’s feet.

“Rise, General Grievous, what news do you bring from the front?” Dooku took a large bite of pork.

Grievous coughed, and his voice came out with a wheeze. “Our campaign bodes well, five villages have surrendered to Serenno, and our spies have discovered Naboo’s camp, led by Duke Kenobi.”

Your blood froze in your veins. Even if you wanted to look away, you couldn’t. You couldn’t even scream in protest of the horrors that were being done to your people.

“Very good, Grievous. Oh yes, this is my bride-to-be, Princess Padme of Naboo. I assume you are familiar with her kingdom?”

Grievous turned to look at you with yellow eyes, and chuckled. “You have a lovely kingdom, princess. Pity to see it all go up in flames.”

Hunter left his horse in the canyon. There wasn’t much cover without it, but a strange man on a horse barrelling towards Dooku’s castle would gathered even more suspicion. Hunter and his brother’s wore little armor aside from a chestplate and shinguards, as spies they needed to move quickly and quietly. This way, he looked more like a traveling ranger rather than a Naboo soldier. He was counting on that to get him into the castle. If Dooku was collecting soldiers for hire, he could pretend to offer his services.

As a mountainous kingdom, Serenno had a smaller population than Naboo, but there were still people bustling about the market. At least half of those people, however, bore Dooku’s eagle crest, indicating their alliance to the Count-turned-would-be-King.

The tavern he found was sparsely occupied. He ordered a mead to catch his breath, and the barmaid gave it to him without a word, greedily snatching up the coins he gave her.

Hunter tried to listen as best he could, no one could best his tracking skills, but the people of Serenno just weren’t talkative. With the exception of sipping on mugs, not a sound was made. Even outside it was quiet, despite the occasional squawk of a bird.

Hunter sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought. If they were this reluctant to talk to each other, how could he get them to talk to him?

He had to get inside that castle somehow. He had to. He had to find his lady, he had to save you.

A large, firm hand clapped him on the back, almost sending him falling forward into his drink.

He whirled about and drew his knife, half-expecting a fight, but Wrecker grabbed his wrist.

“Easy there, stranger, you’ll take someone’s eye out.” Wrecker chuckled. He slung an arm around his brother’s shoulders, “You look like a man who could use a job. Why don’t you come with me?” Without waiting for Hunter’s repy, Wrecker dragged him out of the pub.

Wrecker could make himself feel at home wherever they went, and his confidence made people glance over even his wildest of habits. As he and Hunter easily slipped outside, Hunter found their other three brothers waiting for them.

“How- what are you doing here?” He hissed.

“Act natural, keep moving,” Crosshair hissed, indicating the direction of the castle. Wrecker kept his arm around Hunter to keep him from running away again.

“I’m not going back, not without her,” He insisted.

“We know,” Echo rolled his eyes, “Why else would we be here?”

Hunter blinked, but his feet had to keep moving in order to keep up with Wrecker. “What about Skywalker? And the-”

“The Princess is in good hands. It isn’t as if Skywalker is going to let anything happen to her,” Tech said, “I gave them enough medicine for them to make it back to camp.”

Hunter glanced up at the wall of the castle as they approached the front gate. Crosshair led them in a sharp turn into a dark and gross alleyway between two houses. They had a good view of the castle, but a nice hiding spot from which to plan.

“So you’ll help me, then?” Hunter shoved Wrecker’s arm off of him.

Tech rolled his eyes, adjusting his spectacles. “Well, of course we weren’t going to let you run off and get yourself killed.”

“We were promised a suicide mission to rescue the princess and save the kingdom. Pulling her highness from a river is hardly so exciting. And of course, you can’t take all the credit for killing Dooku.” Crosshair jabbed his finger in Hunter’s face.

Hunter slapped Crosshair’s hand away, “I’m not going to kill Dooku. That’ll just make things harder. I need to save her.”

“Hey, no one said we couldn’t blow up a few things on our way out!”

Everyone hissed a “SHHH!” at Wrecker, as if that was much quieter. They were all silent as a group of Dooku’s knights passed, making sure they weren’t discovered.

“Well, Hunter, what have you got?” Echo asked.

Hunter glanced at the turrets.

“There’s a catapult on each corner of the wall, but they’re all stationed outward. Once we get inside, they shouldn’t be a problem.

Crosshair took an arrow from his quiver, testing the fletching between his fingers, “How many guards on the walls?”

“Four on each side, counted them myself on our way in,” Tech said, “Though by the positioning that we can see from here, I would estimate that the back wall is guarded by a total of six guards. That could indicate either the Count of Hunter’s lady has their room there.”

“We can go in through the east wall, it’s closest to the castle, and fewer guards,” Hunter said.

Crosshair grinned. “Leave them to me.”

“How many men total in the city?”

“They patrol in groups of three, and I counted five different patrols earlier. I would say thirty, and then about fifteen more for the castle itself.”

Wrecker struggled to contain his gleeful laughter in their darkened alley corner. “I like the sound of that!” He said, cracking his knuckles.

“While it is true that the majority of the Count’s army will be stationed close to Naboo, we cannot discredit any other tricks he may have up his sleeves,” Tech reminded them.

“We know,” Hunter said, “That’s why we’re moving fast.”

The Count escorted you back to the suite after the banquet had gone long into the hours of the night, ignoring the paleness of your face. You were exhausted, and what little of the decadent food you managed to eat to keep your strength up didn’t sit right in your stomach.

At the doors to your suite, the guards took up their positions again, and Dooku gripped your hand with the intention of cutting off your circulation.

“Rest well, my princess, I cannot wait for tomorrow evening.”

You couldn’t say a word as the Count brought your hand to his lips. He kissed the back of your hand, then paused, staring at your knuckles for a moment. Then without a word, he turned with a swish of his cape, his false crown glinting in the torchlight.

You entered your room without much more encouragement, grateful to finally get a moment alone, but the shivers in your skin wouldn’t leave. You sat with your back to the door, holding yourself in an attempt to keep from crying, though it wasn’t working very well.

You hated this. You hated all of this, from the emotionless guards to the ignorant nobles to Count Dooku himself. You hated Padme for leaving you, though through no choice of her own. You hated that Hunter had gone to war, and now had no idea where you were.

If he did know, though, would he bring himself to leave everything just to rescue you? He had a distinguished position in the King’s army, an irreplaceable one at that, and you knew that the safety of the whole kingdom hinged on the efforts of him and the brothers he led. He couldn’t possibly sacrifice that much for you, a palace maid, even if he did love you.

No, you would have to escape on your own.

You pushed yourself to your feet, shaking with each step. There were several windows along the wall, though they were much too narrow for you to squeeze through. All the same, when you tried to look out the windows, there was nothing below you by a steep drop down the smooth stone wall of the castle. You shivered as the wind blew through the cracks in the wall.

There were no clothes in the wardrobe, aside from a nightdress. Your wedding dress was probably still being finished. You pulled off the heavy, uncomfortable gown made for Princess Padme and threw it on the bed. You could move around much faster in your own shift that fit you perfectly, though it looked nothing like royalty.

It was behind the wardrobe that spiked your interest. The walls were made of stone, but the wall behind the empty wardrobe was made of wood.

Slowly, inch by inch, you quietly maneuvered the wardrobe away from the wall. Without numerous heavy gowns to weigh it down, it was actually lighter than you expected. Behind the wardrobe was a door, crudely boarded shut long ago, but the wood was dry and brittle, and ready to break.

With several splinters and broken nails, you quietly pulled the boards away from the door in an effort to not alert your guards, and carefully placed each one on the bed so that they wouldn’t clatter on the floor.

The door had no handle, but you used doors like this enough as a servant. With a gentle push where the handle might have been, the door slowly swung inwards with a low creaking.

You caught it quickly, staring at the entrance doors to be certain the guards hadn’t heard. After a moment of heavy silence, you slipped in and closed the door.

You were enveloped in darkness, but also with a rush of adrenaline at your newfound freedom. The passageway that was revealed was scarcely wider than you were, and so you placed your hands on the walls to guide you. Carefully, you stepped forward and immediately found a set of stairs. You began your descent into the dark.

Many castles employed such stairways and passageways, so that servants could go about their duties without interrupting the Lord and Lady. You knew the passageways of Naboo’s Royal Castle like the back of your hand, though it appeared the one for your royal suite in Serenno had been in disuse for some time. Your hand went through something slimy gathered on the wall, and you steeled your stomach. At least it was there. The wall was there, and the stairs were solid beneath your-

The corner of one step wanted there, and you tripped forward along several stairs before you caught yourself, hissing at the pain in your knees.

“What was that?” A voice echoed up ahead. You went still and silent.

“It’s probably the dungeon, again,” One disgruntled servant told the other, “There’s no telling what the Count has down there. He’ll be the death of us all.”

“Shh! Someone will hear you!” The skittish servant hissed.

You held your breath and managed to stay quiet until you heard their footsteps fading away. At the bottom of the stairs, you came across a hall connecting the first floor in secret. The servants had moved to the left, so you followed them, hoping to move quietly enough to keep some distance between you while following them to what was potentially freedom.

As you moved, you wiped some charcoal from the sparsely-placed torches over your face and shift to pass as a serving maid rather than the Princess you were taken for. That was something you were good at.

Up ahead, the two servants exited through another door like the one you’d entered through. You pressed your ear against the wood, listening for any noise on the other side.

“G-General Grievous!” The skittish servant exclaimed. Gooseflesh ran up and down your arms and you wanted to run, but you were frozen in place at the door. “What are you up to- how can we assist you, sire?”

The general exclaimed angrily, then coughed as he overestimated the strength of his voice.

“The princess has escaped, she’s not in her room, we think she may be using the servant’s tunnels.”

You had to get out of the tunnels. If Dooku was sending all his men into the tunnels, maybe you’d have some luck out in the open. You forced yourself to run barefoot down the hall, ducking around the corner before Grievous and his men could enter. As much as Dooku made your skin crawl, his general was the stuff of nightmares, the hulking beast who persistently chased you through the woods, and no matter how fast you ran, he was always right behind you.

You stumbled down another flight of stairs and came to a door that sounded quiet on the other side, you slipped out and shut it behind you. At least stone didn’t leave tracks when you walked on it.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself and looked around. You were surrounded by empty metal fences that resembled the prison cart that was carted into the castle every few days, carrying all manner of disreputable fellow. You and Padme were never allowed to go down to the dungeons, but if you had to guess what a dungeon would look like, this would be it.

There was no torchlight, but the metal bars reflected the moonlight from the solitary window at the far end of the dungeon.

These dungeons didn’t hold any prisoners, except for a single dried skeleton. You shivered. Dooku didn’t tolerate those who stood out of line. You assumed his prisons would be full of rebellious serfs, but this was terrifying.

You picked your way through moldy hay and the remains of final meals, hearing the rats squeaking in the shadows. If you could climb up to the window, you might be able to slip out.

Your fingers brushed the wall to mark your terrain, and a roar echoed through the dungeons.

Was that a bear? A lion? You looked about the dungeon wildly. The cages remained empty.

The roar came again, no further, and no closer. You listened carefully. No footsteps approached.

You placed your hand against the cool stone. No roar. You pulled yourself onto the wall. No roar. You stayed still, another roar. This one sounded like when one of the kitchen cats got kicked aside by the butcher.

Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t after you. It was in pain. But you had no means to help it. You had to get out of this prison as soon as possible.

The uneven stone blocks provided the perfect ladder as you carefully picked your way towards the window at nearly double your height. You had almost made it, your fingers brushing the lip of the windowsill, when something grabbed your ankle.

You screamed, thinking of the skeleton in the corner, and your grip slipped. You fell backwards, crumbling to the floor at the feet of two of Dooku’s soldiers.

“Is that the princess?” One of them asked the other. You looked up at them in terror, trying to scuttle away from them. Your foot caught on a stone, sending a pang through your leg. You grit your teeth at the pain in your ankle. Oh no. Escape was impossible now.

One of the soldiers pulled you to your feet, two hands firmly on your shoulders, “Looks like we got lucky, Roger!”

“Roger, you think the General will give us those promotions we’ve been asking for now?”

“I can see the plumes now!”

These soldiers were…less than frightening, but the idea of the general wasn’t.

You didn’t have much left in your stomach, so there wasn’t much to vomit on Roger’s face, but it still made him shriek like a young nobleman.

The other Roger let go of you to help his friend clean up, and you ran in the other direction. Well, hobbled, more accurately. You ran past the servant’s entrance, that would make you a sitting duck in the tunnels, and up a couple stairs. That brought you to another torchlit hall, even and long, with another door at the end. Bunching your skirts in your hands, you ran as fast as your twisted ankle would let you. There was no point in subtlety now.

You reached for the door, and another roar shook the walls around you, sending you falling backwards in surprise.

The door opened in front of you, and you could hear the roar of pain much more clearly, as well as the rattling of chains.

“One more night should do it, and then we can release the starving thing upon the Naboo-”

Dooku stopped short, noticing you. The cloaked figure he was talking to quickly shut the door behind them so that you couldn’t see what was making that noise.

“My dear,” Dooku smiled calmly as you lay sprawled on the floor in front of him, “What are you doing out of your room, and in your underthings, no less?”

Your face flushed with heat. You felt humiliated, despite your valiant escape attempt. Dooku had you.

Roger and Roger ran up behind you, the clanking of their armor could be heard miles away.

“Sir- Your highness!” Roger bowed, panting heavily, “We have- we’ve captured the princess!” He boasted.

“So you have,” Dooku raised his head so as to look down his nose at his soldiers.

“We-we’ll take her back to her rooms now, sir!” Roger said. He went to yank you to your feet again, but Dooku held out his hand.

“Allow me, gentlemen.”

He tucked his hunting gloves under his arm and held out his hand.

You weren’t doing yourself any good on the floor, so you reluctantly took his hand and let the Count help you up. Though you refused to look him in the eye.

Dooku wasn’t looking at you, though, he was studying your hands critically, running his thumb over your knuckles in a way that made you angry. You wanted Hunter to hold you like this, you wanted him to sweep you up into his arms and carry you to be so that he could help you treat your ankle and get the rest you needed.

You banished such inappropriate thoughts from your mind, how could you be so callous as to even think of Hunter seeing your ankles?

“I-Is everything alright, your highness?” You asked.

Dooku’s eyes snapped to yours.

“Take her to my rooms. Put two guards inside this time so that she can’t escape again.” He barked. Roger and Roger bowed, then each of them grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the exit from the dungeons.

Once you were out of earshot, Dooku beckoned his cloaked assistant forward.

“What is thy bidding, my master?” the wrinkled old sorcerer asked with a mischievous grin beneath his hood.”

Dooku grit his teeth. "Ask Captain Ohnaka why the princess has the hands of a serving girl."

Scaling the wall was easy enough once Crosshair had picked them off from a distance. They had ten minutes before their watch was replaced and the alarm was sounded. In that time, he had to track you down or they ran the risk of being captured.

He could smell the scent of the Princess’ soap, the one made of lavender picked right outside the castle. You were always up to your elbows in that soap to keep the princess and her clothes clean, rubbing your skin red and raw. Hunter closed his eyes for a moment, caught up in the memory. You asked him how he could possibly think you a refined lady when your hands were so rough. He’d simply splayed his fingers against yours, proving that his hands were just as calloused as yours from years training with a sword.

Even after days on the road, you couldn’t ditch that scent.

Hunter tied his hair back with his red strip of cloth to keep his vision unobstructed, “This way,” He crouched down in the shadows, leading his brothers towards where the scent was strongest.

Crosshair shook his head, but pulled another arrow from the quiver, “How does he do that?”

“The same way that you have elf-vision,” Echo snorted.

“Shh!” Wrecker hissed.

They were completely obscured from any other guards by the shadow of the castle. With the moon behind the castle, the only other light was the torchlight from the castle.

The large, circular stained glass that indicated a throne room or grand hall was darkened, but right above it was a window with a single flickering torch, that had to be the Count’s bedchamber.

Tech produced a coil of rope from his pack, and Wrecker tied it to Crosshair’s arrow. With a quiet “whoosh” the arrow embedded itself in the stone windowframe, and Wrecker pulled it taught.

Hunter took his sword’s scabbard and hooked it on the rope, testing his weight.

“Tech, Echo, you follow when I give the signal. Wrecker, Cross, you create a distraction, that should bring the guards out so we have a clear escape route.”

Wrecker nudged Crosshair, and Crosshair couldn’t hide the smirk that came at the mention of any damage to be done. If his aim was true (and it always was) they’d be able to just walk right out of the front gate.

Wrecker held the rope taught, and Hunter pushed off the arch, gliding along the rope to the window. He caught himself on the wall, and kept a firm hold on the rope until he found his balance on the windowsill. He pressed his back against the glass, hidden behind the thick curtain. Re-attaching his sword to his belt, he drew his trusty knife. Despite what he told Crosshair earlier, the idea of murdering the Count in his bed for whatever he’d done to you did sound quite satisfying.

He opened the window just a bit, enough for him to hear inside, but there was no snoring.

“Let go of me!”

His heart leaped. You were alive, and it took all his self-control not to barge into the room and scream your name.

“Orders are orders, ma’am. Count Dooku said we were to make sure you stayed here.”

“Good luck with that.”

Hunter heard you struggling and signaled to his brothers, he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back much longer.

“Hey Roger,” one of the guards said to his companion, “What if we cut off one of her feet? Think she’d be able to run away then?”

You stopped struggling, and Hunter felt the blood drain from his face. Tech was only halfway across.

“Roger, I think that’s a great idea!”

You whimpered, as one of the guards held you still, and Hunter couldn’t take it anymore.He forced the window open, glass scattering across the stone floor as he threw his knife at the sword raised above your leg.

“What the-”

Roger didn’t have time to wonder what was happening as Hunter saw red, stabbing him in the stomach. He kicked the Roger holding you down in the face, crashing his head against the headboard with a crack.

Hunter landed in a crouch on the bed next to you, and quickly scanned the room for any more threats before he turned to you.

“Hunter?” you whispered with tears in your eyes, thinking this was all a dream brought on by the pain.

“My lady, are you alright?” He leaned over you, caressing your face with his hand.

“Better now,” You gulped, pressing your palm to his hand.

Hunter bent down, giving you a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. His arms wrapped around your body, pulling you closer to him. Definitely not a dream.

“Ah!” You gasped as his knee brushed against your ankle.

“What? Did they hurt you?” he snarled, reaching for your foot. You quickly pulled it under your shift to keep your ankles from view.

“I, uh, tripped while trying to escape.” You mumbled abashedly.

Hunter couldn’t help a chuckle as he pressed his forehead to yours, “That’s my lady.”

“Oh good, you found her,” you and Hunter both sat up, unaware that Tech had made it into the room, and was currently helping Echo off the windowsill.

The bell tolled in the distance and you jumped, clinging to Hunter’s cloak.

“That would be Crosshair and Wrecker’s distraction,” Echo assured you, “We should get out of here quickly.”

Hunter took off his own cloak and tied it around your shoulders, “Lean on me,” He urged, plucking his dagger from the wall and giving it to you. One of his arms wrapped securely around your waist, cradling you to his side as the other hand gripped his sword.

“Wait, wait,” You urged Hunter and his brothers, “We can’t leave yet.”

“We have to if we want to get out of her alive!” Echo insisted.

“But Dooku has a secret weapon!” You told them, “He’s going to use it against our army tomorrow!”

The brothers looked at each other in alarm, and then back to you.

“Where is it?” Tech asked.

You gulped. “He has something, something down in the dungeons.”

Hunter nodded, “Lead the way, milady.”

Lady Luck (Prequel)

#HEY I WROTE SOMETHING #lizart writes #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #lizart speaks #tbb x reader #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch hunter x reader #medieval au #fantasy au

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jedipoodoo · 2 years

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Hunter x fem/royalty reader. I've been reading the amount I could find but there aren't that many. You don't have to, but I would love it if you could. Have a nice day!

With how popular this trope is, there should be A LOT more fics of it out there 😌

PS- as a bonus enjoy my favorite HunterxRoyal!Reader by my dear @emperor-palpaminty

Notes: Escape from an arranged marriage, fake kidnapping, female reader, rekindling an old romance. Sidenote whatever tumblr did to update its desktop posting is terrible and I hate it plz put that thing back where it came from.Word Count: 3227

Let Your Heart Win (Hunter x Royal!Reader)

"Are you ready, my lady?"

Your old nanny tried her best to sound upbeat and excited, you had to give her credit for that. You braced yourself, and looked in the mirror. If this day ended the way it was supposed to, you would never be fully prepared for what each day would hold for you. If it all went terribly wrong, you would be trapped for the rest of your life, which, from the disposition of your fiance, could be anywhere from twenty-four hours to the rest of your miserable, agonizing years.

Grand Admiral Vance was not one to be trifled with.

On your homeplanet, green was worn on wedding days to signify life and joy, but the ornate green and gold robe your mother had worn on her wedding day was far too heavy and ominous for the joy it was supposed to bring.

There was a soft knock at your door, and one of your maids answered it. Your father entered, his crown slightly askew and dark circles bagging beneath his eyes.

He ran to you and hugged you tightly. You dismissed your maids, of course you would want to spend tie with your father before you were married.

"Did the message go through?" You whispered through the lump in your throat.

Your father nodded. "Avi Singh was true to his word. The extraction team should be touching down now."

Your heart raced in anticipation. Now all they had to do was break through Admiral Vance's security, which, according to your father's old friend from Raxus, wouldn't be a problem.

"It will be alright, my blossom," your father promised, "I will be by your side the whole day."

Before you could voice any more of your worries, Vance's personal guard burst into your room without fanfare, to escort the king and his daughter to her wedding.

You held your father's arm tightly. Vance's guards formed up closely around you, to prevent any of your father's men from helping you escape. none of your people were happy with the new Empire, and they knew it. Your father had encouraged his people not to rebel for their safety, but they refused to listen. Admiral Vance had been personally assigned by the Emperor to ensure a firm hold on your system, and he had approached your father with a plan. Hand over control peacefully, or face a bloodbath.

Your planet had lost so much during the Clone Wars, and your father insisted as much to the Admiral. your people were stubborn, they would revolt either way. You still shivered at the memory of Vance's eyes on you at that comment. As your father's only heir, you were present at all his meetings to prepare to take the crown one day, and Vance knew this.

He'd presented the final ultimatum to your father. The people loved their princess, and would never want any harm to come to her. You could marry the Admiral, and he would legally become next in line for the throne, or the Empire would wipe out your people from the skies.

You agreed, only for your people.

That was only two weeks ago. there had barely been time to perform any of the proper rituals before your wedding, and during that time, your father heard how one of his old friends, Avi Singh, had escaped the empire's hold. Desperate to protect his only child, your father called in secret to ask how he had done it.

By the end of the day, you would know Senator Singh's experience for yourself.

The doors of the cathedral opened with a fanfare that sounded more like a funeral march than a wedding march. The guests stood solemnly, and more than a few tears were shed on your behalf as your father walked you down the aisle. You stared straight ahead, determined to put on a brave face for your people and let Vance know that he had no control over you.

Approaching the altar could only be done with your husband-to-be. At the foot of the dias, your father kissed your cheek.

"I love you," He whispered with tears in his eyes. You tried to hold onto his hand as long as you could. If all went well, this could be the last time you ever saw him.

Impatiently, Vance snatched your hand away, and nearly dragged you up the stairs as you tried to preserve what dignity you had left. His white suit was as stiff as a tree, how could he be comfortable in that? The old priest gave you a sympathetic smile in pity, and you nodded in respect. He began to recite the old vows of marriage. Vance's mustache twitched in irritation as the mantras droned on and on, and you silently prayed that Senator Singh's extraction team was taking advantage of the time provided to them.

Then, a shadow flickered behind the stained glass windows. One to your left, one on the right, close by Admiral Vance's men, and one hulking figure in the window, just above the altar.

Several members of the audience gasped, but before any of the Admiral's men could do anything, all the windows in the chapel shattered.

Vance screamed, and you saw the glass embedded in his arm as you bent down to cover yourself. Blaster bolts whizzed overhead as smoke filled the room. You coughed as your eyes watered, blurring your vision.

"Hurry, Princess, this way," Someone grabbed your arm. It wasn't harsh enough to be Vance's men, and you didn't recognize any of the voices of your guard. It was time to go.

You nodded, and let them help you to your feet, casting aside your wedding robe. You trusted their guidance as their arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you through the crowd and out into a side hallway that was also full of smoke. You could faintly make out a helmet that had to be helping them keep their senses in the smoky haze, but you had to wait until they found one of their companions to offer you a rebreather.

"Deep breaths, your highness," A new voice said, their hand squeezed your shoulder as both of them helped you out into the side gardens. the overgrowth provided the perfect cover from Vance's men as you caught your breath.

You wiped your eyes on your sleeve, and coughed up some of the ash from the smoke.

"Guess Wrecker's plan worked a little too well," The second rescuer chuckled. "What's Tech's ETA?"

You blinked up at your first rescuer as your vision cleared. They had long, shoulder-length curls, and half of their face was etched in a tattoo you knew too well.

"Hunter?"

He chuckled half-heartedly. "Hey Princess."

Two years of heartbreak ran through your mind in two seconds, before a familiar engine sounded overhead.

"Time to go!" You didn't recognize Hunter's companion, but he wore the same kind of armor as the rest of the Bad Batch, so you knew you could trust him.

Tech let down two grappling cables from the Marauder. Hunter wrapped his arm around your waist, yanking you against his chest as he took the first one. You wrapped your arms around his chest as you were suspended in the air for a brief moment before being pulled aboard the ship.

"Hey Princess! Long time no see!" Wrecker grinned at you as he yanked their other friend aboard. the ramp closed just as the alarms sounded in the city below, and the momentum from the engines threw you off your feet into hunter's chest. He still wouldn't let go of you.

"You alright?" He whispered. You were frozen at the tender gesture with which he pushed your hair back from your face, as if you hadn't broken his heart the last time he saw you.

This was not what you had expected of the extraction team.

The self-proclaimed "Bad Batch" had helped you free your planet from Separatist control halfway through the war. The Republic thought your planet a lost cause, but you had begged for help to free your father from a Separatist prison. Clone Force Ninety-Nine was your saving grace.

At first, their Sergeant's complete disregard for protocol and rules had driven you insane, until he had pointed out that they were breaking all sorts of rules to even come and help you in the first place. Then they had stayed around to free your planet even after your father was rescued. There was no one you trusted in the galaxy more than the Bad Batch.

But did they trust you?

"I-I'm fine," You whispered, pushing away from him to catch your breath.

"Hi! I'm Omega! What's your name?"

They had a child with them. Oh gods, they had a child with them. And all the same, this child beamed up at you. She had the same bright, shining eyes that Hunter did, and she smiled without hesitation.

"Uh...hi?" You introduced yourself, and little Omega pulled you to sit down in one of the Marauder's old worn seats.

"Hunter says that you're a princess. Do you have a crown?" She asked.

"Ah- not anymore?"

"Oh. Well, what about a prince?" She pressed.

"That's who she was trying to escape from, Omega," The new clone said gently.

"Hunter's 'er prince!" Wrecker laughed loudly, and you flushed.

"Wr-Wrecker!" Hunter scolded, looking just as flustered as you felt.

"Hunter's a prince?" Omega's nose wrinkled in confusion.

"Echo! Wrecker! Would you and Omega help me with the calculations for hyperspace? We still have to escape the Imperial fleet!" Tech shouted loudly.

Though confused, the one named Echo pulled Wrecker and Omega into the cockpit, shutting you and Hunter alone in the hold.

Hunter awkwardly cleared his throat. "Are...are you okay?" He asked. You nodded quickly as the awkwardness sank deep into your bones.

"I'm fine."

You sat up straight, the only way you knew how to deal with embarrassing situations, but the ship shook with blasterfire and you fell out of your seat and on top of Hunter, sending both of you sprawling onto the floor.

Wrecker sprinted from the cockpit, leaping over the two of you as he pulled himself up into the gunner's tail.

"Sorry! Tech said not ta interrupt ya so you could talk but we gotta get rid of these fighters!"

"Since when was Tech giving the orders?" You shook your head, running a hand through your hair.

"He's not," Hunter grumbled. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling both of you to your feet. He sat you back in the seat and pulled the crash webbing over your head before settling in the seat next to you.

"Hunter, are you okay?" You asked. The ship shook again, and you gripped the bar with all your strength.

"Tech, how much longer until we can jump?" Hunter shouted. He ignored your question.

"We just have to clear this Venator-" the ship jerked to the side to avoid a collision.

"Hunter, I just want to say-"

"Echo, Omega better be strapped in-"

"She's fine, Hunter!" Echo snapped back.

"Hunter, for the love of force would you just look at me!?" You screamed.

The ship lurched forward into hyperspace, and you discovered your crash webbing was not as secure as it should have been. You fell from the seat again, but before you could crash onto the floor, Hunter was free of his restraints and caught you, braced between the rows of seats.

Both of you breathed heavily as the ships interior glowed with the familiar blue of hyperspace, unable to look anywhere but at each other.

"Is everyone alright back there?" Omega asked innocently.

You and Hunter scrambled back to your feet. Instead of meeting his eyes, you fixed your gaze on the doorway.

"Thank you, Sergeant," You said.

Hunter sighed. "Anytime, your highness."

He was annoyed. the only time he used that title with you was when you were driving each other insane. He definitely didn't like the idea of coming to rescue you after everything that had occured between the two of you. Might as well make it worth his while.

Tech appeared in the doorway, and glared past the two of you. Wrecker was still watching from the gunner's tail. At Tech's silent scolding, he slowly edged past the two of you and into the cockpit. The door slid shut again, and you were once more alone with Hunter, though it was clear that neither of you were happy for it.

"My father gave me the comm frequency for Senator Singh. As soon as we get somewhere safe I'll give him the signal to wire whatever price you name."

Hunter's eyes shot to yours, burning with fury.

"You think we came to get you...all because of money? You really think so low of me, your highness?"

You shrugged instead of trembling under his gaze, and folded your arms.

"Why else would you? You have no connections with me and my people anymore."

Hunter shook his head, and chuckled half-heartedly. "Of course, it's always about your people with you."

"It has to be! That's my job, I'm a princess, I can't just do whatever I please, I have a duty to my people just like you have a duty to your brothers!"

"And a fine mess that got you into. Tell me, is Admiral Vance as terrible a kisser as he looks?"

You slapped him, the skin of his cheek reddening beneath the tattoo. The sound echoed in the hold as you both gathered your thoughts.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, "That was uncalled for."

"It certainly was," You wrung your hands to ease the sting in your palm, but Hunter caught it. He always caught your nervous habits.

"Do you want help with that?"

"You've done enough," You huffed.

All the same, Hunter pulled the scanty medikit out from underneath the bench. There wasn't much in there, but he pulled out a half-empty tube of bacta, and squeezed a drop onto his finger. He held out his hand for yours, and you let him see it.

He wiped the bacta onto your palm, and then took your hand in both of his, using his thumbs to massage the gel into your skin. It was a familiar technique, and it almost brought you back to a camp in the mountains, hiding from prying eyes in the shadows of a campfire. Even after the bacta was gone, he continued to hold your hand, and you let him.

"Do you remember the night we took back the captial?" He asked suddenly. You looked up, but Hunter was still looking at your hands.

"Yes?"

"The celebratory fireworks were too loud for me, so you brought me into the cellar of the palace, where it wasn't nearly as loud."

You nodded carefully, "I told you how I always used to sneak down there when I was hungry-"

"-And I was surprised that Proper Miss Princess had ever broken a rule in her life." Hunter chuckled. The anger was gone, but his eyes still seemed to glow when he looked up at you.

You pulled your hand from his grasp, and took the bacta from the kit.

"You need some on your cheek." Hunter didn't protest as you gently nursed the wound you had given him. It wouldn't leave a scar or anything, but Hunter's senses made him sensitive. You bit your lip at the guilt that swamped your stomach, and then Hunter gently wrapped his hand around your wrist.

"I think about that night all the time," He confessed.

You froze. You did too, but you would never tell him that. It was the last night you had to be free of of societal conventions and classes before you were officially a princess again. You had held his head in your lap, carding your fingers through his hair as he sang to you. In the darkness, alone, with no nosey eyes watching your every move.

And then he'd kissed you.

He'd kissed you and you'd never wanted it to stop, you would have traded the entire galaxy for him.

The day following that had been a nightmare. You remembered yourself. You remembered why you could never be with him, that having him would come at much too high a cost for your people. You jumped back from him and tossed the bacta back into the medikit.

"I'll go ask Tech how far we are from the meeting point."

You tried to make a break for the cockpit, but Hunter grabbed your harm and held you tightly.

"That was the night you told me you loved me."

You were silent.

"Did you mean it?"

"No." you answered too quickly. Your entire body revolted at that answer. Your legs quaked and your eyes burned. Why did you feel this way? You had years to come to terms with this reality. You could never have Hunter. You could never truly be his, not while the millions of people of your planet depended on you.

Hunter knew you were lying.

"Princess," He begged, "Tell me the truth."

You took in a shuddering breath. "I told you the truth."

"No," He shook his head, and came around to face you again, "You told me what everyone expects you to say, because you're a princess and you have to do the right thing.

"Now tell me again. What do you say?" He asked.

A lump swelled in your throat and your eye squeezed shut, but you could still feel Hunter in front of you.

"What do you say?" He repeated, and you could feel his lips ghosting against your forehead, "The woman who never lets anyone see that they got the best of her, the woman who can take out three super battle droids with one bolt, the woman who's always put an entire planet above her own needs, a woman who told off General Grievous when he threatened to chop off your head, the woman who will sit beside you until you fall asleep at night because you had a nightmare. The woman I-"

"Yes!" You gasped, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Yes, Hunter, I love you."

When you looked up at him, Hunter almost looked surprised that you had actually admitted it.

"You mean it?" He whispered, caressing your hair. His lips were an inch from yours.

"I do."

He held the back of your head, and you clung to the lip of his chestplate as his arm circled your waist, pulling you in for a kiss that was long overdue. Your hand slid up behind his neck, entangling in his hair. It was just as soft as you remembered it. He groaned softly into your mouth as you tugged, and he pulled you even closer.

"I love you," He whispered against your lips.

"I missed you," You said shyly.

He chuckled softly, "I missed you more."

You rested your head against his chest, and he gently swayed back and forth with you in his arms.

"Hunter?"

"Yes?"

You squeezed Hunter's arm, "Thank you. For saving me from doing the proper thing for once in my life."

He chuckled, and gently kissed your forehead. "Anytime, Princess."

You still had no idea what your next move would be, but now you knew that you weren't going to have to do it alone.

#lizart writes #sergeant hunter #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x royal reader #royal reader #hello it is i your fav fic writer who is currently avoiding finals <3 #this took like three drafts to work something out

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