Hunter's knife flip

19, MASTERLIST

[shakoribe]

The Bad Batch, deleted scene ep 107

[alienobserver21]

Hunter from the Bad Batch. I love the show and his character especially, so he basically forced me to draw him. :P I hope you enjoy!

Check out more of my art here: https://www.deviantart.com/birdcagesanddemons

[clxnewxrs]

HOOOOOLY

[photogirl894]

OhmyGOSH!! 😲🥵😲🥵

[moonstrider9904-deactivated2022]

THERE ARE NO WORDS TO EXPLAIN HOW BEAUTIFUL THIS IS!

OP you captured Hunter’s essence perfectly! This is amazing!!

[whoree321]

live footage of me rn at the peak of my obsession prowling tumblr for more bad batch content/begging for requests while everyone else slowly loses interest bc the season ended

[14mcmd1122-deactivated20211124]

Pic ref: Starwars.com

Do you know poppies?

Rating: General

Wordcount: 3k

Characters: Omega and the Bad Batch, f!reader

Warning: none - hurt/comfort and fluff. Poppies are toxic!

A/N: This story is inspired by a thought my sister and I have since our father passed away. Nobody is gone, as long as someone remembers. Thank you @ashotofspotchka for beta-reading. I appreciate your advice and words of encouragement, your input and suggestions for improvement. Thank you for taking your time with me.

Summary: Omega and the Bad Batch witness the downfall of Kamino. You try to take the grief off her with a comforting proof.

It was close, but you had escaped. On board the Havoc Marauder you had a box seat to silently watch the sinking of Kamino. Within a moment, six of the seven people on board had lost their home. Whether it had been loved or not, it had still been home. It still felt unreal, how quickly the facilities sank into the roarin, destructive ocean. All physical traces of the facilities gone, only the black smoke trailing over the skies remained as a fading reminder of what was once. You had saved the lives of Hunter and Crosshair, but you lost an entire city.

No one spoke for what felt like forever. Hunter had been the first to regain his strength and his voice and ordered Tech to set course on Ord Mantell, before he vanished into the sleeping quarters. Upon arrival, though, no one had the energy to go into town and see Cid. The hustle and bustle in her cantina would feel too sureel, as if their lives hadn’t changed overnight and so Tech piloted the ship to somewhere outside the city and you all ended up around a campfire, eating and indulging their thoughts.

Now each of you stare into the fire in silence. The reflections of the dancing flames on your eyes, your thoughts hidden behind expressionless faces. As everyone sits in silence, all of you know what each one is thinking. Replaying in all your minds is the devastating destruction of flames and fallen towers to whom Tipoca city fell victim to.

Suddenly Omega buries her face in her hands and begins to sob. Her little body is shaking as it all poures out of her at once. It already hurts to see her this desperate, but to witness how five grown men, who had lost their home just like her as well, watch the little girl, is heartbreaking. They do not have the means to comfort her, as they too are feeling the same loss and are unsure even how to pick themselves up.

Eventually Hunter kneels down in front of her, trying to say something, anythingto comfort her, but all he manages as he sees her huge watery eyes, is to sigh and stammer something about you emerge stronger from whence

“Karking hells, Hunter! You should really work on your empathetic skills again, which have left a lot to be desired lately.” Echo scolds him, which causes a joyless huff from Crosshair, and a shake of your head. You should really have a chat with him sometime soon. He just doesn't seem to be himself lately.

Turning your attention back to Omega, you helplessly try to comfort her, and say the first thing that comes to your mind.

“Don’t be sad Omega. You are safe here with us. And someday the terrible images will vanish from your dreams. If you want me to, I can sleep next to you tonight, so you won’t be alone.”

Surprisingly, she cries even harder, raising her voice with despair. “This is the worst! All will be forgotten: Kamino, the clones, me, them.” She points around with her hand. “We could have died. And all we did, everything we gained will be worthless. Everyone will only remember the horrific acts that my brothers had done.”

Oh! That’s not what you had expected. She’s still so young, but she has seen more cruelty, more suffering and violence than children at her age should have. She is so skeptical and matter of factly that just doesn’t seem right for someone that young. It makes you extremely sad. You wish you could cheer her up. When you were her age you could have been carefree, you could… Ohhh! A thought comes to your mind. Maybe it will work.

“I am convinced that, as long as someone remembers you and keeps telling stories about you, you will live on forever. You won’t be forgotten and will continue to exist, even once you are gone.”

A slight cough interrupts you.

Tech watches you with a skeptical expression, that you counter by rolling your eyes. You already know what’s about to come next. The way he waves his index finger and adjusts his goggles, tells you that he’s mentally getting ready to have an in-depth discussion with you about science and religion, it really isn't the time for this.

“Obviously it is a scientific fact that the 'gone' or 'dead' state is irreversible. How should a person go on living after they have passed away? Such an allegation seems to belong in the realm of mythology.”

You are preparing yourself mentally to rebuttal him, to explain that the force does not work in the way that he understands and religion and mythology has nothing to do with it. Suddenly, you feel the gentle grip of Omega’s hand on your forearm.

“A-are you sure? I can’t imagine that” she sobs. Her incredulous gaze matches the doubtful tone in her voice.

“Oh definitely sweety. And I even can prove it,” you reassure her and move a little closer to her. As if you are going to tell her a secret, you lower your voice. “Right now, if you want me to.”

“Now, that’s going to be interesting,” Crosshair huffs mockingly. He flips the toothpick into the fire with a sloppy move and crosses his arms over his chest. Nevertheless he straightens slightly to better observe what is going to happen.

It isn't just him observing. Five more pairs of eyes are now fixed on you, more or less curious. Ok, you honestly don’t have a clue if your little experiment is going to work, but they are all so sad about their loss, even if it isn’t evident physically, you know that each of them express their grief differently. A little cheer-up shouldn’t hurt. It’s worth a try, and if it doesn’t work – well at least you distracted them for a while.

“Do you know poppies?”

Omega shakes her head. “No. What is that?” You look around at the others, the question had been aimed at all of them. They just all shift slightly and shrug. Tech already tries to check his datapad for information, but with a show of your hand you beg him to hold back. Your gaze travels back to Omega, who looks at you with huge curious eyes, her sobs slowly becoming less and less. You smile at her encouragingly.

“Good. I really would have been very surprised if you knew them. Poppies are flowers that only appear on my home planet. At least I’ve never seen them anywhere else. They usually have four to six overlapping red petals around a black ovary with tiny yellow stamens, and upright stems which are very hairy with stalked fringed leaves.”

“Sounds nice.”

Omega is obviously wondering why this information is supposed to be useful and what this has to do with your conversation in the first place. But she doesn’t dare to ask. You chuckle at her confused expression, and even more so as you turn around to Tech and ask him whether you can paint on his pad and if he could therefore hand it over to Omega for a short time. Even behind his goggles you can see him frowning.

“Would you paint a poppy for me?”

“I’m not sure if I can. But I’ll try.” She takes the pad from Tech’s hand and start her commission.

It’s too cute to watching her paint. How she is concentrating hard, how she sticks her down out, unconsciously as she focusesd on her drawing.

Just watching, sensing her grief leave here, you know that at this point even if your little idea doesn’t work she is at least feeling better. That alone make you feel happier.

“Here you are!” She proudly shows you her finished picture.

“Oh! That’s pretty good. Almost like a poppy.” You seize the pad and present her artwork to the others.

“Our little sister is quite the artist.” Wrecker tilts his head in appreciation, and Omega proudly beams at him.

“So, would anybody of you want to change something on this picture? Does it look enough like a poppy?”

Hunter is leaning over to have a closer look on the display. “None of us has ever seen one either, but yes, it looks probably like a poppy.”

“If I ever see one, I'll be sure to recognize it from this picture.” Echo remarks across the fire. Crosshair don’t answer verbally and only indicate his approval by raising his chin. Tech seemingly want to say something, but then decides otherwise and just shakes his head.

“Ok, now make yourself comfortable and close your eyes. ALL OF YOU!”

You hear one or two of them snort as they are shuffling, getting more comfortable. When you turn your head you see Hunter leaning against a trunk and Omega has curled up on his side. He ruffles her hair, lost in thought.

'Yes, that’s better,' you think.

Wrecker and Crosshair are sitting side by side, with their shoulders leaning against each other. Echo is lying on his back, his arms crossed behind his head. Next to you, Tech is propped up on his forearm, looking your way. Your heart warms at the sight. At least they still have each other and you have them.

Then you start your story in a calm voice, “When I was child, my friends and I used to roam around during vacations. Our favorite haunt was a little outside of our town; a huge meadow, overgrown with poppies. There were countless red dots, like splashes of paint on a green canvas. When the wind blew through the tall grass, they looked like small boats, gently swaying on the crests of waves.

Even from a distance, we could perceive the sweet smell of honey and grass. But for us it was more than just that. It smelled like freedom and adventure. Nobody, except of ourselves, knew were we were or what we were up to. And sometimes we didn’t know either. We braided the blossoms in our hair as identification mark for our girl gang ‘The Red Strays’.”

A smile spread on your lips at the sound of that designation. How long has it been since you last heard or called yourself that? What had become of your friends? Are they traveling across the galaxy like you or are they still living in the small town at the end of somewhere?

“We spent hours lying on our backs, just telling stories and looking up at the sky. On those days, when the sun was shining, we could see it shimmering through the delicate red petals. In the bright light the colors sometimes appeared as rose or orange. Then the blossoms almost looked as if they were made of gauzy silk. And in the back light we could see the shadows of the round ovaries, almost as if a small creature was sleeping in each calyx, surrounded by tiny fireflies.

The thin stems were covered with hair so fine, they almost looked like a silver fuzz. They tickled pleasantly on the skin. However, if we came into touch with them, they scratched terribly, especially in the crook of the arm or at the nape. Of course we teased each other with it. Once we had overdone and bothered one of the younger girls until she developed a terrible rash. This day we have been late at home, because nobody dared to tell our parents what had happened, and we urgently tried to find a cure for her the whole afternoon. We failed and got scolded for being so crude – and late. We were put under house arrest for a few days because of it.”

“Ooh, who would have guessed that you used to be such a bully? I better make sure you don’t bother my squad,” Hunter says in a bantering tone.

“Yeah, as if we couldn’t defend ourselves against this dangerous threat on two short legs”, Crosshair snorts. Wrecker, immediately bursting out with laughter at Crosshair’s dry remark, pokes his shoulder.

Your gaze travel to Echo, who desperately tries to hold back a laugh of his own, obviously fighting against some funny images inside his head. “She might be worse than the clankers.”

Well at least they are already lighthearted again.

“Don’t force me to convince you otherwise guys!”

Omega raise her head and nags: “Let her keep telling. I want to hear more of that beautiful place and her.”

“There are so much more stories I could tell sweety. In the meadows we danced and played. We climbed around or pretended to be Jedis and fought with invisible lightsabers. We were carefree and happy. At this place we became independent and adult. It was there that I had my first kiss - and my first heartbreak when the boy kissed my best friend there a week later. She’s still my best friend, but we never heard from him again after we confronted him. But those are stories for another day.

Today I only want to tell you how the flowers looked most beautiful on days when a thunderstorm was approaching. When the sky was black and dangerous, the clouds piling up and lightning flashing, then the red poppies were shining brighter than ever and stood against the darkness. Someday we didn’t notice the upcoming storm and it was too late for us to run home. The only thing we could do was to take cover from the rain under some low bushes. The wind blew so hard through the meadow, it tore off the petals and they swirled through the air. It was hard for us to see the destroyed flowers. A few days later we returned to the meadow, and we were happy at how the poppies had recovered and already started to bloom again. And as sure as the sun follows the rain, happiness comes after mourning, and a new beginning after destruction.

That’s why I love poppies so much. They are beautiful and delicate, but also strong and resilient and they bloom again and again. Since I was a child, red is my favorite color, it always reminds me on poppies, wherever I am, and that I can be both, gentle and imperturbable, and that life goes on, even if it seemingly ended.”

After that you remain quiet, and the others need some time to realize you have finished your telling. One by one they open their eyes, watching you.

“Do you want to express with this story of yours that life always finds a way to exist, even under the most difficult conditions? However, strictly speaking, this is not the same as living on after death. I mean…”

“No Tech, this is not what I wanted to proof with this story. Although, now I’m thinking about, it also might be a conclusion you can make out of it.”

You grab the pad and hand it to Omega.

“You want to try again and paint a poppy for me?”

“Oh yes, I'd love to.”

She takes the pad from you and immediately starts painting again. To your utterly surprise, the others get up and join her. They are sitting next to her and watching her paint. Omega is even more focused than the first time. Less concentrated but therefore with more enthusiasm. There’s a different kind of expression in her gaze as she stares on the display, fiddling with the pen. And then something happens you'd never expected: when Omega takes a short break from painting, Hunter reaches for the pad and starts drawing. Omega's eyes brighten as she watches him. And even more so, as well as yours, as shortly thereafter Tech is seizing for the pad, adding his own modifications to the picture.

Yet it doesn’t stop with him. One by one, they make their contribution to the image of a poppy. Each of them with ardor and an enthusiastic gaze. Their heads put together, they whisper quietly, giving one another advice or approval. They work together, just like they do on their missions, matching up and with perfection. Until Omega puts down the pen and turn the datapad towards you.

Your breath hitches when they show you the new picture. Their picture. An image of a poppy come to life, almost as if it were growing out of the display. You can see the light reflect on the petals, the soft breeze blowing over it, nearly smell the scent of honey and grass. Like so many years before.

“Wow… Just… look,” you fumble for words that are hard to find. A hot tear run down your cheek and grazes the hoist corner of your mouth. “It’s so… vivid.” You touch the display with your fingertip, somehow surprised you can’t feel the floral texture. “As if you have seen them with your own eyes.”

Omega comes over to you and sits on your lap. She cups your face, and her small hands wipe away the tear you have shed.

“We have seen them through your eyes, and with your heart. That’s what we were supposed to, weren’t we?”

She hugs you, so hard, she’s pressing the air out of your lungs. You nudge her chin with your index finger and lift it up slightly, she thereby looking at you again.

“That was just the first part. The second was to listen with more than just your ears. Now the poppy lives in your heart as well as in mine. And even if I’m gone, you are able to tell your friend about poppies sometime. And when you will do so, tell them about the meadows and the lights, and add the story of this very evening. Then the poppy will remain lively in their minds, too. Forever.”

Slowly you bend down, peck a kiss on her forehead and ruffling her fuzzy hair even more. Tilting your head, your cheek comes to rest on top of her head, and you smile into the direction of the boys. They look back at you, neither of them saying a word. Obviously they are waiting if you are going to say something else.

“I’m not sure how long we will travel together. None of us know what the next day will bring. But if only one of us keeps telling our stories, all the things we have been experienced and gone through, then someone will always remember us. By this means we will live on. And that my sweet Omega, is a comforting thought. Don’t you think so?”

She nods and nuzzles against you.

“Hunter,” Tech addresses him, already fumbling on his pad again. “I discovered where poppies are to find. In fact, there truly is only one planet in the galaxy that has poppies on it.”

Hunter throws a side glance at you. Now it’s your turn to be cheered up.

“Save the coordinates – we are starting on a new mission tomorrow.”

Taglist: @a-blog-that-has-fics @echos-newlegs @samrubio @deewithani @dinbeskarbaby @moonstrider9904 @rebekadjarin @namesmox

[whoree321]

IT IS TECH TUESDAY AND IM NOT SEEING ANY GOD DAMN TECH CONTENT. DONT MAKE ME HAVE TO DO THIS SHIT MYSELF PLEASE IM BEGGING IM LITERALLY BEGGING. I WILL CARRY THE ENTIRE TECH X READER TAG IF I HAVE TO I SWEAR TO GOD AND ALSO JESUS. I WILL TURN THIS BLOG INTO A BLACK HOLE OF BAD BATCH CONTENT WHERE I INJECT MY TECH OBSESSION STRAIGHT INTO MY VEINS LIKE HEROIN AND FORCE ALL OF YOU TO WATCH. DON’T MAKE ME DO SOMETHING WE’LL ALL REGRET

[hoeforce-999]

i am all open for the bad batch requests if you guys have any! <3

[hoeforce-999]

Anyways I started zapping

as you should

[moonstrider9904-deactivated2022]

✨ We seriously love it when Star Wars is Hunter on Saleucami ✨

Don't we, @photogirl894?

It just really brings out how handsome he is ✨

[loulines]

Help me help me somebody stop me ‘cause I know I can’t stop me (x) 🙃

If you gotta fill out a bunch of boring reports you better get yourself comfortable, right? 😈😈😈

I might be enjoying drawing shirtless Rex a little too much, but… I love him your honor

[lornaka]

Family pieces

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

Darkest Part

AO3 Link

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: The war was drawing to a close as you and The Bad Batch provided reinforcements on Kaller. However, the end of the war came in a way none of you could've predicted, as Order 66 is executed. Set during the episode Aftermath.

Warnings: 12+, Character death, slight violence, it's an angsty one peeps

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Notes: As always, feedback is really appreciated, along with reblogs! Thanks so much for taking the time to read, have a lovely day!

Depa’s screams echoed across the open plane, causing the group to stop in their tracks. You couldn’t believe your eyes, sure that this must be some kind of Force trick as you all witnessed Commander Grey and his troops firing on Master Billaba, her Lightsaber protecting her with everything she had. You hadn’t realised you were already running until you overtook Caleb, desperate to try and help. Both you and the Padawan had your Lightsabers drawn as you raced to the General’s aid.

With her last bit of strength, Depa Force pushed you both back and screamed for you to run, for you to get Caleb away from the Clones before one final shot sang through her chest. In her last moments, Depa’s beautiful face was tainted with the agony of betrayal from her closest allies.

An overwhelming pain suddenly smacked you in the chest. You didn’t realise pain could be blinding, but it took over every sense in your body until there was only a bright light. Screams could be heard, Lightsabers swinging for one final time, ships being shot down. It was the Jedi. They were dying. The Council. The Knights. The younglings. All of them. And just like that it was over. You were back, Caleb pulling on your sleeve as the Bad Batch caught up with you both. You’d fallen to your knees from the impact of the deaths of your kind.

You looked at the Bad Batch and your already emotionally battered chest tightened like a vice. Would they turn on you as well? After everything. Would Crosshair turn on you? You’d seen it, you’d felt it. You’d felt Master Plo’s despair as the Wolfpack shot him from the sky, you felt Obi-Wan’s disbelief as Cody ordered his execution, Aayla’s heartbreak as the man she loved gunned her down.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears as you met Crosshair’s visor. Could he hurt you? Love hadn’t saved Aayla, it hadn’t prevented Commander Bly from executing her with no remorse. What would stop Crosshair?

“Stay back” Caleb shouted at them, holding his weapon in a defensive position in front of you. Finally coming back to yourself, you grabbed his wrist and took off running. Hunter’s voice following after you, trying to reason with you.

Tears finally fell down your face as you focused everything you had on running. Focused on keeping the Padawan safe from certain death. There was nothing else that mattered now, this kid had to live. You couldn’t lose anyone else. You just couldn’t.

You struggled to keep up with what had just transpired, your conscious mind not processing the events as your body went into survival mode. Keeping Caleb safe was all that mattered, and you clutched to the one sane thought with everything you could muster otherwise you’d crumble.

With an initiative beyond his years, the young Padawan started climbing the trees to remain off the path where Hunter could track them. The child’s tactical mind caused the sobering realisation in your mind that, of his short life so far, most of Caleb’s years of innocence and learning had been tainted by war, forcing him to grow up beyond his years.

You followed his lead and supported yourself in an adjacent tree, out of sight from the ground. Your eyes were locked onto Caleb as he steadied himself on his snow dusted tree, you pushed a wave of support over the Force to wash over him, hoping it would calm his nerves.

In the distance, two sets of footfalls crunched against the white blanket of the forest floor. As quickly as it came into range, the sound suddenly stopped below your trees and Caleb’s wild eyes found yours. His fear was evident and bone deep. It was breaking your heart. He was just a kid; he didn’t deserve this.

Hunter and Crosshair’s modulated voices broke the silence in the air as they debated the way you’d both went. Hunter sounded distressed while Crosshair sounded determined, the same way he sounded when hunting a target. Your body shivered at the thought that you had suddenly become the enemy in his eyes.

The sound of a blaster bolt snapped your attention to Caleb. The branch he’d been perched on shattered beneath him and he fell very ungracefully at the base of the tree, with Hunter and Crosshair staring straight at him.

Without thought, you leaped down in front of the young Padawan, your brown cloak trailing behind you as you descended. You landed on one knee, a hand out to your side with you Lightsaber lit and at the ready.

Bringing yourself to your feet, you peered at your men from beneath the darkness of your hood. Hunter was stood in a defensive stance, hands out and unarmed. Crosshair however was aiming his deadly sniper directly at Caleb behind you. He was ready to take the shot, every inch of his body screamed his intent to kill.

“Caleb run” Your words were strong. Stronger than you felt.

“But-”

“GO!” You demanded the young child, if you could just buy him some time, there’s a chance he could get out of this.

Crosshair’s rifle was still pointed in the direction of the young Padawan. You stepped forward into the firing line and disabled your weapon, meeting the soldier’s gaze through his visor. You listened out as Caleb’s running feet sounded further and further away. Good.

“Crosshair, this isn’t you. Don’t hurt the kid.” you spoke with a calm you didn’t feel, like you were trying to soothe a feral creature.

“Good soldiers, follow orders” his hands were shaking as he bit out the words. That strange certainty he had while aiming at the young Jedi, now wavering while his weapon was trained on you.

“Well, if that’s the case.” You walked forward until the barrel of his rifle was aligned with the centre of your chest. “Take the shot, Crosshair.” your voice was void of emotion. You’re sure you heard Hunter screaming at you two in the background. Not even commanding as Sergeant, but as a brother, begging Crosshair to stop this.

A shot rang out.

You’d visibly flinched at the sound, such a contrast to the eery silence that fell over you all in the forests of Kaller. You opened your eyes, unsure as to when you’d closed them. You were met with the sight of the Sniper’s barrel smoking. Hunter’s arm beneath the weapon, having pushed the shot up over your shoulder. You met Crosshair’s visor again and your heart finally shattered.

Crosshair’s shaking hands threw his weapon onto the ground, almost in disbelief, moving to clutch the side of his helmet in pain. Despite the bucket covering his face, you could read every emotion he went through like a book.

More tears made their way down your face as you used the Force to launch the man you loved into a tree, effectively knocking him out for a short period. Hunter tore off his helmet and grabbed you by the shoulders as you sank to your knees. You were sure your face mirrored Depa’s as she died. After all these years, how could the Clones do this to the Jedi? How could Crosshair do this to you?

“General, I’m here. Whatever’s going on, I don’t understand it, but I won’t hurt you. I swear.” You studied his features, the equal amount of confusion and despair in his gaze. You believed him.

“Hunter, you’ve got regs incoming” Wrecker’s voice sounded from the Sergeant’s helmet. The Clone wasted no time pulling a spare comm from the back of his armour, one Tech had tampered with it seemed. He pressed it into your hands and looked you dead in the eye.

“Go, get the kid to safety. We’ll contact you when we figure out what this order sixty-six is, and what’s happened to Crosshair. We’ll rendezvous somewhere safe.”

“Hunter I-”

“You have to do this, and we can’t lose you, General. Go, I’ll look after the boys. I promise to keep them safe” I promise to keep Crosshair safe.

With a nod, you scrounged up one final bout of resolve before getting to your feet, ready to take off in search of Caleb.

Before you left, you spared another look at the man you loved, still sitting unconscious below a tree. His body was limp as the chin of his helmet sat against his chest. You hated that it had come to this. That you had actually hurt him in some way.

Putting all your trust in Hunter, you mentally said goodbye to Crosshair and the rest of the Batch before you finally departed among the trees. Unsure as to when you’d next hear Wrecker’s boisterous laugh, Echo’s kind words, Tech’s rambling, or Hunter’s terrible jokes. Not knowing when you’d next feel Crosshair’s soft breathes against your neck as you slept surrounded by everything that he was. Uncertain for your future and with a shattered heart, you kept running.

Back to Masterlist

[whattheheckmidoriya]

hi <3 i was wondering if i could request a #7 from the injury reveal prompt list for my mans sergeant hunter

( “ who did this to you? “ “ silence* “ hey, look at me. look at me. who did this to you? )

Bruised Eyes

Pairing: Hunter x Reader

Genre: Fluff?? Angst?? FLANGST???

Warnings: Mention of bar fights, mentions of harrassment (no descriptions, though!), quick mention of injuries, Hunter being a softie

Word Count: 1,392

Join the taglist here!

Author's Note: I was so excited to write this!! Hunter is my favorite member of the Bad Batch, so I definitely enjoyed this! I hope you like it, corazón, and thank you for trusting me with your request!

• • •

Maker, you just wanted to sleep.

You wanted to get back to your apartment, cleanse yourself from the day’s troubles, and sleep until way past your wake-up time. Maybe you could even skip work tomorrow— call in sick and just take the entire day to hide away in the comfort of your home.

You worked at a bar on the lower levels of Coruscant, and while it wasn’t always pretty, you really just needed a paycheck to keep a roof over your head. Hunter hated it, told you to quit and find something better—safer—to do than serving at a sketchy bar full of nut jobs that were one drink away from starting a fight, but there were no openings for nicer places like 79’s. He never liked the idea of you being down there, hated the thought of you getting caught in the middle of a drunk fight and getting hurt.

And he had reason to feel that way.

There have been times where you’d come back to your apartment with a new bruise or a cut from a broken glass trailing your arms, and Hunter would have to patch you up after the whole ordeal had left you drained of every beautiful spark that lit your eyes. He’s seen you come back with a limp, a broken nose, cuts, and bruises that took weeks to heal. He felt a piece of him shatter every time you came back battered and bruised, a part of him cursing himself for not being there to keep you safe.

Hunter had taken it upon himself to teach you how to defend yourself. He never stayed on Coruscant long enough to teach you the fancier stuff, but he did what he could to ensure that you could protect yourself in the case of another fight. He ran you through different maneuvers— how to disarm someone with a vibroblade or blaster, how to escape someone’s grip, how to knock someone out without hurting yourself— all in hopes that he wouldn’t have to see you drag yourself back home so brokenly again.

But you both knew luck and training wouldn’t always be on your side. Tonight was a testament to that.

Your shift was hard. Your customers were drunk beyond recognition. You were once again pulled into a fight you had no intentions of being a part of.

It had totally slipped your mind that Hunter had landed on Coruscant that day and would be waiting for you in your apartment, so when you walked through the front door, you weren’t expecting to jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice.

“Kinda jumpy tonight, aren’t ya?” he chuckled, pushing off of your couch to meet you at the door.

Even with your aching body, you couldn’t ignore the warmth that blossomed in your chest at the sight of your lover. His bandanna was long gone, letting his thick, curly locks to cascade around his face with no restraints. The pieces of loungewear you had gotten for him hung loosely from his frame, making him look so much softer than he did with his blacks. Shadows from the night sky pooled in from your windows, dancing over his face as a gentle smile settled on his lips.

You huffed a breath of laughter, leaning into his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his warmth. “Sorry, you simply caught me off guard is all,” you mumbled into his chest. Wrapping your arms around him, you breathed in the soft scent that was so unforgettably him, letting your muscles relax slightly.

“How was work today? No one gave you too much trouble?” Your breath hitched, and you cursed yourself for it, knowing his senses caught onto the seizing of your breathing. He pulled away from you gently, a look of concern glimmering in his eyes. You tried turning your face away in an attempt to hide the bruises on your skin, but he gently took hold of your chin, tilting your face back to him.

He didn't say anything for a few moments, his eyes widening and darkening at the sight of your bruised eyes and busted lip.  

“Hunter, it’s not that bad—”

“Who did this to you?” His voice rumbled lowly in his chest, something akin to anger and concern weighing on his words.

A lump settled on your throat, your heart plummeting to your stomach as he narrowed his eyes at the darkening bruises on your skin. You let your eyes fall from his gaze, your stomach twisting sickeningly into knots as anxiety burned in your veins.

You hated this. Hated seeing him worry— hated being the cause of his worries. Your shoulders drooped with exhaustion, eyes refusing to meet his again.

Hunter gently cupped your face in his calloused hands, pulling you in so your forehead was pressed against his. “Hey, look at me.” He called, caressing your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs in an attempt to soothe the racing of your heartbeat. When you didn’t meet his gaze he tried again. “Look at me. Who did this to you?”

Your lips quivered, tearful eyes meeting his own as you took in a sharp breath. “Some son of a bantha was harassing this woman at the bar today,” you started, your voice wavering with unshed tears. “He wouldn’t… he kept bothering her. No-nobody tried stepping in to help her,” Hunter encouraged you to keep talking, a gentle glint of his eyes giving you the strength to continue. “No one was trying to protect her… so I did.”

Hunter’s eyes widened at your confession, and without warning he pulled you close to his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head as he released a breath that was stuck in his chest. He held you tightly, a piece of him wanting to squeeze you in his heart so you could understand how great his love for you truly was. Gently, he rubbed circles on your back, hoping to express all these fuzzy feelings he still didn’t fully understand.

“You’re so strong, mesh'la. So brave,” he mumbled into your neck, voice low and full of adoration.

You clung onto him tightly, silent tears racing down your cheeks as he tightened his arms around you. At that moment, you felt so remarkably safe. His warmth engulfed your heart with a promise of nurturing it with a love so gentle but so reckless.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” He smiled, wiping away your hot years with his thumbs. “I had a feeling you would be coming late, so I set your favorite loungewear on your bed.”

You nodded gratefully, letting him guide you to the ‘fresher. He gently helped you out of your filthy clothes, setting them aside as you stepped into the shower with a sigh, letting the warm water melt the tension that hung onto your muscles. Once done cleansing your body, Hunter was at the ready with a towel in hand, carefully wrapping it around your figure before letting you slip into the fresh set of clothes in your room.

He stepped away for a moment, soon returning to sit next to you with a makeshift ice pack in hand. The mattress dipped under his weight, making you turn to face him and meet his loving eyes.

A sigh flew past your lips as he pressed the ice pack onto one of your bruised eyes, making him chuckle at how you leaned into the coolness of it.

“Thank you, Hunter.” You mumbled tiredly, charging your words with all the love you could summon.

He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head, a lopsided, lazy grin settling on his lips. “No need to thank me, mesh’la.” He pulled the ice pack away from you for a moment, making you frown as you looked at him. “You’re not going back to that place, okay? I’ll help you find somewhere safe where you can work— I promise.”

You hummed gratefully, letting yourself fall into the comfort of your pillows, smiling as Hunter followed your lead.

“Can I ask you something?” You nodded, tilting your head to urge him to continue. “Who threw the final punch?”

You snickered, smiling tiredly before pulling the icepack back to your beaten eye. “I did.”

“That’s my girl.”

[hoeforce-999]

i am in love

[hoeforce-999]

masterlist

hi and welcome to my star wars masterlist, I am currently only writing for the bad batch but my writing always depend on my current obsession so it can change:)

H U N T E R salvation

C R O S S H A I R “execute order 66″

T E C H nothing yet

E C H O nothing yet

W R E C K E R nothing yet

[hoeforce-999]

Salvation

hunter x jedi-reader (female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: minor spoilers for bad batch season 1, angst, grief. 

From a young age, you had been taught to handle anger with gentle hands and delicate words, steadily reeling it in so you did not unleash it on people who did not deserve it. As a child being taught the way of the Jedi, you had not understood the dangers of constant anger and fear, but you hadn’t even experienced much of that to begin with. You no longer had the innocent and naive mind of a child ready to take on the world, but rather the one of a war-stricken adult who no longer knew what she was fighting for. You found it harder to control your anger and easier to unleash it. But that was not how you were taught, so again and again, you meditated and focused on your breathing. 

In 

and

out

Your attempts to calm the sizzling anger running through your veins were in vain, it would not disappear or calm no matter how many breaths you took. With even more frustration than before you got up from the floor of your barrack and sat down on the little too hard bed. It groaned in response to your weight and even that made you want to rip the white linen apart. You missed the beds at the Jedi temple, they had been soft and welcoming after days of hard training. As you thought of the place you had once called home, the lightsaber hanging from your belt felt heavier than usual. Heavy with the knowledge that you had chosen to leave, heavy with the knowledge of what had transpired after, and heavy with the guilt that you had managed to survive. Of all great padawans and Jedi masters, the one who had left it all behind had been the one to make it out alive. A broken laugh escaped past your sealed lips and echoed through the room, reminding you of a time when that laugh had not been as broken. It felt like it had just been weeks ago since you had been sitting in this ship, surrounded by your unusual team, a group of misfits who somehow fit perfectly together, on your way to another mission. Sometimes those missions had not even felt like obligations, sometimes you had given in to that young Jedi still inside of you and regarded it as your big adventure to save the universe. As it turned out you had barely been able to save yourself, let alone the whole universe. The only way you had gotten out of that last mission with your life intact, had been thanks to your newfound family and their unrelenting wish to protect you. You closed your eyes as the memory of that horrid day engulfed you in a veil of darkness and sorrow. There would not come a day when you would forget how all those clone troopers around you, Depa Billaba and young padawan Caleb had turned their blasters towards you. You would not forget how you and Depa Billapa had fought to give the child a chance, a chance to survive as the universe turned against him. Then she had fallen, becoming an empty shell without the spirit of the warrior who had once been and now no longer was. The memory of her death was haunting and your whole body was shaking with the fury you had felt and still felt as if it had been engraved in your soul. Though your memory was the reminder of something from your past, the fear you had experienced was still palpable as you thought about how close you had been to meeting the same fate. There had been no doubt in your mind that you would fall next, join her in another life with the only regret that you did not get to bid your farewells to your squad. Almost as if they had heard that silent wish to see them again, they had appeared with their blasters raised and saved your life. One of them, in particular, had fought as if his life depended on it. His chestnut-colored hair had been all over his face as he finally got to you, that red bandana he always wore was in his hands as he carefully put it around one of your wounds. He had been so tender with you as if his touch would have been the last point for you to break. It might have been, had you not been so caught up in the fact that whatever had gotten over the other clones, had left your friends alone. You had been relieved for all of them, but most of all for him, the clone who somehow had managed to take up such a big place in your heart that it had become his. 

Hunter, Hunter, Hunter

You escaped your memory and forced it into the darkest corner of your mind, wishing to never again experience it again. Instead, you tried to focus on his name, tried to busy your mind with thoughts of what he was doing or things he had said to you. He was usually enough to calm the distressed state you seemed to fall into more often now, but not today. It seemed as if all your tries to calm your anger and fear were hopeless, for you could only feel them rising as a force strong enough to drown you. When you felt how the darkness grew inside of you, you thought back to the words a certain Jedi master had repeated time after time, etching them into every young mind so they would not forget. 

Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.

You had not forgotten and neither had the warning bells ringing in your mind, but for such a long time you had been fighting against that dark part of you and you were growing so damn tired. This was a battle you had been struggling to win for some time now, and you were on the brink of giving up. It felt as if you should, perhaps then you could become stronger and actually do something for this universe. Maybe you would be able to bring your other friend back, the brother who had left and when given the choice, had turned his back on you again. You had been so furious as he stayed on the platform in front of a destroyed Kamino, there had been so much rage towards a universe that seemed to take everyone away from you. The darkness inside of you relished in your anger and the guilt that gnawed at your soul, and then it started to soothe you with silent promises of what you could do, who you could become if you only gave in. You could have sworn that the darkness sighed in relief as you leaned further into its embrace, perhaps this would be for the best.

yes, you can have so much more and that was true, right? You would have more power than you had now, you would be able to save everyone you loved and never have to experience that heavy feeling of loss again. 

yes, yes and so much more it chanted inside of you, drawing you further and further into it and you could almost have laughed because this was so much easier and not so horrid as those Jedi masters had preached to you. Somewhere in your head, those warning bells were still ringing, that young Jedi in you still fighting for dear life but you could do nothing else but savor how welcoming the darkness felt. It was becoming you, it became every breath you took, every beat of your heart, and every memory you had until they were all clouded by the same rage you had felt for weeks. This was not giving up, this was giving in to something else, something that would make your life more bearable. You were not even aware of your own body anymore, it felt as if you were floating away from it or perhaps sinking so deep into it, you would never escape. 

This is the right choice, you will be one to fear and never again feel fear yourself. You will do so much for the universe that gave you so little. You will-.

The chants inside of your mind were interrupted by a buzzing sound, and as you tried to locate the interruption you realized that it was not a buzzing sound but rather a soft voice calling your name. Oh, and your name on his lips always sounded like the soft drizzle of syrup and so that darkness in you was momentarily interrupted by Hunter.

This is just a memory, he is not real. You hummed in response, the darkness was right, this was just a ploy played by your own mind. Once again you found yourself sinking deeper into those feelings of rage, grief, and despair. Though it was as if you could still hear his voice saying your name, and then his hands were on your shoulders, shaking you as if he somehow could wake you up from a nightmare you had chosen to dwell in. He must be able to sense the change in you, that was one of his enhancements after all, hypersensitive to everything around him. Your name on his lips and his hands on your body ignited a battle inside of you, for just as there was a wish to forget there was a desire to hear more words from him. 

“Cyar'ika, I can’t lose you too.” 

Right, if you succumbed to the darkness you would lose him. He who had saved you in so many different ways that it felt as if you had a hundred debts to pay him. Maybe he was enough, maybe you did not need all this power that the dark side promised you. Perhaps his hand in yours would be enough for you to keep on fighting and as if he could hear your thoughts, his grip on your shoulders tightened. You knew then, that he would always be enough for you and so you joined the young Jedi in you and started fighting, fought for the girl who had once believed she could save everyone, fought for the friends she had lost, and fought for the love she had gained. Your whole body shuddered as you tried to force that darkness out of your mind, it was backing away slowly, not really wanting to give up this battle. But it would, because when you finally gained control of yourself again and looked into Hunter’s eyes the love that shone in them would have been enough to shatter every ounce of darkness in the universe. The anger and fear you had felt had vanished, never gone but perhaps tamed, and you let out a gasp, almost as if you had been drowning underwater. His hands were on your face and a small smile formed on his lips as he saw that you were you again. 

“Hi.” You could not help the small smile that tugged on your lips either, there was just so much relief that you had not given in and that this man once again had managed to drag you out of your inner despair. You lifted a hand to stroke some of his hair away, it was soft as velvet beneath your fingers. He leaned forward to rest his forehead on yours, his hard grip on your shoulders remained as if he was scared that you would vanish again if he let go. So he kept on holding you and you kept on twirling his hair, both relieved that the other was whole. 

“Glad to have you back.” He whispered and you promised yourself to never again let yourself be so close to letting him go. The darkness had been wrong, you did not need anger or power to never feel fear again. The only thing you needed was to stay with the person who would make it all bearable. Sometimes a person finds pieces of their soul in another, and when that happens you need to cling to that someone with all you have, for they are your salvation. He was yours.

[kamino-coruscant]

Echo to Omega: Oh dear, oh dear. Gorgeous.

Hunter to Crosshair: You f*cking donkey.

[kittfisto-deactivated20211113]

DARTH VADER Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016) | dir. Gareth Edwards

[matchxd]

Gonna Be Alright

Summary: Hunter calms you down when you’re at your breaking point.

Pairings: Hunter x gn!reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Warnings: in depth description of a panic attack, very very minor mention of suicidal ideation, anxiety, depression, hurt/comfort, let me know if i missed any

Word count: 1.6k

AN: Hello there :) I have been having quite the time with the Big Sad™️, and imagining comfort from the Bad Batch boys has been a nice little escape for me as of late. I was originally gonna make a big post with all of the boys, but I wrote this one first and it got pretty long. I’ll post one for Echo, Tech, Wrecker, and Cross as I write them. (PS: I’ve never written for TBB before but I have been reading so many fics from the many talented writers on here, so I hope to give something back to this lovely community!) And if you too are having a hard time (seems like quite a few people are nowadays) don’t hesitate to slide on into my ask box. Hope this can bring you some comfort.

Hunter knew something was off. He always did.

You were lying in your bunk, facing the wall. At first glance, you appeared to be sound asleep. His brothers may have missed the way the blankets were slightly shuddering with the repetitive tapping of your feet, but Hunter didn’t. Your heart was nearly beating out of your chest. He could sense it.

It surprised you how quickly you fell into a downwards spiral. Your mind was racing, zooming by you like a freight train. Before you could process one intrusive thought, another would come to replace it, screaming in your head until all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and let the fear take over.

Your panic took the forefront of your emotions, but you were disappointed, too. You had been doing SO well. How many months had it been since you had an episode like this? Mission after mission, you’d followed the Batch around, traveling to a vast array of planets and environments with no issue.

In fact, you had rather enjoyed yourself! Now, you don’t think you’re capable of even getting up to go to the fresher. As irrational as it seems, your panic-driven mind starts to doubt that you’ll ever get out of this state.

Your misery and hopelessness turn right back into fear, and it’s like you’re being hit by a ton of bricks. You can FEEL your face go hot, like all the blood has rushed to your head.

Are you still breathing? Can you even get a breath in? You don’t know. Just seconds ago, your thoughts were buzzing out of your skull. Now, they’ve gone silent. All you can process are the alarm bells roaring in your brain. It’s like your fight or flight instinct is going off but all you can do is freeze. What were you even so worried about in the first place? You can’t remember anything tangible. You wish the hull of the ship would disintegrate so that you would be sucked into open space, a reverie from your current emotional hellscape.

Hunter’s voice cuts through the chatter of your thoughts.

“Everything… alright?” He doesn’t bother to hide the concern in his voice. He never does. Always the compassionate leader.

You feel the bed dip behind your back as he plants himself a good distance away from you.

At this point, you’re completely aware that you need help. But, despite your acute panic, your first instinct is to pull away. You don’t want Hunter to see you like this. What would he even think of you? How could he possibly understand what’s happening to you, when even you have trouble grasping the state you’re in? You’re nearly catatonic.

“All good here Sarge,” your voice comes out in a croak. Shit. You blew it.

He says your name, so softly you have trouble picking it up.

“Doesn’t sound like it to me.” You feel his hand come to rest on your shoulder, and with a bit of pressure, he’s rolling you onto your back.

Though it’s dark on the Marauder, it’s still light enough to make out his face. That means it’s light enough for him to see the desperation written all over yours. You avoid eye contact with him at all costs, but it’s too late. He knows. Your breathes are coming in short bursts. You’re sucking in air at an alarming rate, but you still feel like you’re not getting nearly enough oxygen. The brief distraction of Hunter joining you on the bunk managed to pause your episode for a moment, but now you’re right back in the thick of it. You think you might throw up.

He rests a hand on your chest, right over your sternum. You can feel the heavy weight of it rise and fall rapidly with your rib cage.

“You’re alright. I’ve got you,” he says, his voice unwavering. He says it gently, but with authority. A part of you has no choice but to believe it.

“Take a deep breath for me, okay?” He commands. On instinct, you’re reaching out, wrapping a hand around his wrist.

“I-I can’t,” you feel so small. So stupid.

“Shh shh yes you can. Do it with me, alright cyare?” He takes a deep, pronounced breath. You try your best to mimic him, but you stutter on the inhale, and can’t quite get all your breath out when you exhale. But he takes another one, not too slow but much more steady than the way you were breathing before. This time, he holds his breath before slowly releasing it. Your heart is still racing, but you manage to follow him through. By the third breath you feel your head rush with the oxygen.

Your panic is somewhat sated, but your adrenaline is still coursing through your blood. You’re sitting up on instinct.

“Easy now,” Hunter’s hand is displaced by your abrupt movement. He wraps his arm around you and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Keep breathing,” He reminds you. You had somehow forgotten. From this angle you watch his chest rise and fall, and you try to match your breaths with his own. For a few moments, you both sit still, breathing in tandem.

He waits for you to speak first, opting to let you calm down before assessing your condition further.

It takes you a moment to come back to yourself. It usually does when you come down from an attack like this. You use him, his arm around you, like a tether. He’s wearing just his blacks, so the heat of his body helps lure you back to the present.

And then, before you know why, fat tears are rolling down your cheeks, your chest shuddering with unvocalized sobs. It feels like the panic has finally rolled off and out of you, but now, it’s replaced by that familiar hopelessness. You wish you didn’t have to go through this, that Hunter didn’t have to see you like this, that you hadn’t deluded yourself into thinking you were all fine and dandy the past few days. In truth, you should’ve seen this coming.

“I’m..” you can barely get the words out. “I’m so sorry.”

You feel him cup your face, and he angles it towards himself so you can see him speak as he shakes his head.

“What have you got to be sorry for?” He sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine why you could possibly be apologizing.

“I don’t know.” Because in truth, you don’t. “Thank you.”

He bows his head in a curt nod. It’s so silly sometimes, you think, how obvious it is that he’s been raised as a soldier. It always strikes you at the most unexpected of moments. You can ponder that later.

“No need to thank me,” he follows.

“I don’t know where that came from. It just… happens to me sometimes.” You hate how small your voice feels, how unsure it sounds. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you continue.

Your voice feels so dry, and your face is still wet with tears. He uses his thumb to wipe away the tracks under your eyes, and then he’s reaching down to grab a canteen of water from the floor. Apparently, thats what he had come over to offer you in the first place. He hands it over wordlessly. As you screw off the cap and begin to drink, he speaks.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know.” He begins stroking your hair. “Used to happen to me all the time,” he rubs the back of his neck with his other hand before adding, “still does..”

“Seriously?” Now THAT comes as a surprise to you. Hunter? The fearless soldier, would feel… like this? But he’s always so strong. Even in the face of danger, he remains calm and steady. How could a leader like him feel as out of control and weak as you do now?

He chuckles at your expression, brows pinched together with your mouth wide open. “Sure thing. Just ask Cross. He’s helped me out more times than I can count.”

Well that’s.. a little shocking.

“What would he do?” You ask.

“Depended on the day. Sometimes he’d take me out shooting, ya know, as a distraction,” he shifts so you’re both lying down now, your head on his chest. “Other times, he’d just breath with me, like I did with you. It’s surprising how much that can help.”

“Yeah,” you mutter, “it is.” It did shock you how quickly you managed to calm down with his help. “I didn’t think you would understand,” you admit.

“All of us understand. My brothers, too. Even the regs. It’s not so uncommon to get a little plasma shocked from time to time,” he says.

“Plasma shocked?” You question.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “that’s what we call it.” Leave it to the clones to come up with such a silly name for a panic attack. “Doesn’t make you weak, if that’s what you’re thinking. If anything, it makes you normal. Just means your mind’s keeping up with what your body’s doing.” It’s such a simple way of putting it, but somehow, it does the trick for you. For the first time all night, you truly feel like you will get through this, and that feeling fills your chest with new warmth, not from fear, but from hope.

“We’ve been getting a lot of action lately,” Hunter says. Yeah… he could say that again. You can’t even remember the last time you had a few moments of peace without being in a full blown shoot out. “We’ve still gotta refuel before we rendezvous with the fleet,” he continues, “Maybe it would do us all good to take a few days of rest.”

You appreciate how he frames the suggestion, putting emphasis on how ALL the crew would benefit from a break, and not just you. He’s already picked up on how much you hate to be a burden. You appreciate his sensitivity.

He moves to leave, but before he does, he gives your shoulder a final squeeze. “Do you need anything?” He asks.

It’s against your better judgement, but you can’t help asking. “Will you stay?”

In the darkness of the ship you can just barely catch a glimpse of his mouth, gently curving upward, “of course, cyare.”

Despite your earlier emotions, you don’t think you’ve ever gotten a better night of sleep than in his arms.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ll be okay.