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dindjarindiaries · 17 days

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For the prompts request could you please do “I don’t think I can walk that far… or at all”, “stay where you are, I’m coming to get you”, and “I’m sorry, I know it hurts” with Hunter pretty please???? I need some Hunter comfort before tbb s3 ruins us all ❤️🙃😶

character: Hunter (The Bad Batch)

prompts: “I don’t think I can walk that far… or at all”, “Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you”, and “I’m sorry, I know it hurts”

warnings: blood & injuries

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

Your breaths came in panicked gasps as you helped yourself to sit up against the nearest wall. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, replaying the last few moments over again in your mind.

You were laying down cover for Wrecker when they started to close in on you. There was barely anywhere to go, but you tried your best to stick to the shadows and shoot. You were convinced you had them all no problem—you always did—but just when you started to lower your blaster, a final one jumped out, and you had no time to hide from their blaster bolt.

They were dead, now, but that didn't hide the damage. Your leg was hit with a clean shot, and as you reopened your eyes, you gained the faith to look at it. Charred skin around the wound still glowed a fiery orange, and blood was just starting to seep from it.

The sight of it made you dizzy for a moment, as did the shock, but you pushed through and reached for the comm on your belt. You forced your breathing to even out before you activated it. "Hunter." You paused, swallowing down a groan of pain as you looked up to the open sky of the planet above you. "I'm hit."

"You're what?!" Hunter's comm went quiet for a moment, and you had no doubt he was cursing to himself. "How bad?"

You glanced down at your wound again. The color was fading, but the bleeding was quickly getting worse. "Direct. On the leg."

"Are you okay?" Hunter's voice was breathless. When you didn't respond, his words only sounded more panicked. "Can you make it back to the ship?"

You shook your head to yourself. "I don’t think I can walk that far… or at all." You forgot to lift your hand from the comm's activator as you released a tight groan of pain. "It's bad, Hunt. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Sunny." Hunter's command was gentle, despite the way his voice shook. "Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you."

You set the comm back on your belt and closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing once again. The shock was starting to wear off, which meant the pain of your wound was getting worse. You had nothing on you to stop the bleeding, and even if you did, there was no telling that you could actually do anything to help it.

Hunter called out your real name in panic as he approached. You opened your eyes to look at him, watching as he knelt at your side and looked at your wound. His body froze at its severity, and though his helmet hid his face from you for now, you could picture the handsome features of his face contorted in horror.

Hunter cursed under his breath and lifted a hand to your face. "You're losing a lot of blood." He tugged the scarf off his neck and began to wrap it around your leg. You cried out before you could stop it, holding his wrists as his visor glanced at you. "I’m sorry, I know it hurts." He exhaled a deep, troubled breath and shook his helmet. "I should've been here."

"It's not your fault." You spoke through your gritted teeth, desperate to comfort him. "You had a more important role to—." You cut yourself off with a whimper as Hunter tied off the scarf tight.

"Still." Hunter put his arms under your back and your knees and nodded at you. "Just hold on. Okay?"

You returned his nod, closing your eyes and cradling your head against him as he lifted you. You bit your cheek to keep yourself from protesting in pain when his running caused your wound to bounce uncomfortably. Hunter would only free a hand from you to shoot his blaster as he made his way back to the ship, where Wrecker was hopefully awaiting you.

"Hunter!" Wrecker's voice exclaimed in hardly concealed relief. "Why do you have Sun..."

Wrecker stopped himself as you raised your head to look at him. His helmet was off, and his expression instantly dropped in worry.

"Wha-What happened?"

"Direct hit, to the leg." Hunter stepped closer to Wrecker. "I need to get us out of here first."

Wrecker nodded in understanding. "I've got Sunny." He took you from Hunter with ease, and when you let out a groan of protest at the movement, Wrecker shifted the way he was holding you.

"Start treating it if you can!" Hunter called the words out over his shoulder on his way to the cockpit. You were stuck with a different kind of pain at his actions; if Tech were still around, he wouldn't have had to worry about handing you off to Wrecker. Tech would've already had you out of this damn wretched system.

"Hey, Sunny." Wrecker began to distract you as he smiled at you and set you down in the nearest chair. You whimpered, but still offered the best smile you could in return. Wrecker's smile grew more before it started to falter. "This wasn't because you were covering me, was it?"

You shook your head. "It wasn't your fault, Wrecker." You hissed when Wrecker untied the scarf around your wound. "I let down my guard too fast."

Hunter managed to pilot the Marauder off the planet as Wrecker started attending to your wound. When the ship was in hyperspace, Hunter raced out to join you again, and Wrecker instantly moved aside to let Hunter take over. As Wrecker attended to the cargo he'd brought on board, Hunter removed his helmet and focused on the task at hand.

But you couldn't stand the worry in his eyes as he began the bacta treatments.

"Hunter." Your voice was gentle, almost hushed, as you called for him. He didn't look up at you, his focus too sharp on your wound. "Hunt."

The nickname finally earned his gaze. You brushed the wisps of hair back from his forehead for a moment and nodded with as much reassurance as you could muster.

"I know it looks bad, but I'm okay." You nodded again. "I promise."

Hunter searched your gaze for a lie and found none. He exhaled in relief, his eyes closing as he leaned his forehead against your knee. You kept your hand on the top of his head, running your knuckles over his hair to soothe him. One of his hands gave your calf a gentle squeeze.

"I'm here."

Hunter lifted his head and reopened his eyes, and your heart shattered at the vulnerability he didn't bother to hide from you—because he knew he didn't have to. "So many losses." He was choked up, causing you to cup his cheek for comfort. "And I almost thought you..."

He didn't have to finish the thought. You shook your head at him. "It's gonna take more than a blaster shot to get rid of me." You leaned forward, biting back the protest your wound gave at the movement, and left a lingering kiss on his forehead. "We're all right."

Hunter began to smile and nodded, his hand taking yours from his face and giving it a squeeze before he dropped it to start tending to your wound again. You sat in silence, but the tension was gone, exchanged for the breathless relief of your safety.

A lot of things had changed for the worst over the past few months, but one thing would always be for certain: you and Hunter.

#i need to give this man a hug actually #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #prompts #dindjarindiaries

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anemptypuddingcup · 8 months

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Period comfort w/ Sanji. Fluff.

I had gotten sick from the cramps which is the worse feeling ever. But after getting some rest I decided to write a little imagine with Sanji since I did it with Luffy & Zoro.

However this one isn’t gonna be as explicit since my body isn’t feeling such a way atm.

“Oh goodness- Sweetie? Are you alright in there?”

A soft knock on the door jolts you awake and you sit up from your plush pillows that propped you up. A pained groan leaves you as your cramps grew worse, the feeling of your sticky crimson fluid spilling out only made you more cranky. Another knock causes you to sigh in frustration and instead of getting up, you call for Sanji to come in.

“You can come in Sanji..” You say, followed by a painful groan.

The door slowly open and Sanji peeks inside and looks to you with a worried expression. “Is everything okay in here sweetheart? I heard you were sick..” He asks, walking in with a warm towel. You tilt your head and chuckle a bit. “No no, I’m just on my cycle Sanji. Nothing too serious.” You try to reassure him. Sanji walks over to you and sets himself down softly onto your bed.

“It is as serious as it can be love. Doesn’t that mean you can still get sick? Here, I brought a warm towel for you.” He says, pulling your blankets away away from your hips. He slowly places the towel against your lower tummy and you sigh a bit out of irritation. “You haven’t came out of your room today either…You need to eat something.” Sanji tells you, his hand cupping your cheek.

You whine out softly to him. “I…I don’t feel like eating.” You say firmly, not bothering to sugarcoat or hide anything. Sanji chuckles at your stubbornness and pulls the blankets back over your legs. “What is it that you crave? I know you want something love.” He asks you. You look away from him, you did yearn for something sweet. Though your body was stubborn and felt that it didn’t want anything when it was really hungry.

“Well…I do want something sweet. Maybe a brownie or something could calm my nerves.” you tell him. Quickly standing up, he walks back over to the door before looking back to you. “Anything else with that sweetie? Something to drink?” Sanji asks, a little smile plastered along his face. You shake your head and he smiles brighter. “I’ll be right back love, just stay here and get some rest.” He tells you before closing your door.

You smile softly and flip over before curling up into a ball, cradling the warm towel against your lower tummy as the cramps slowly began to cease. You shut your eyes and yawned, eager to just go back to sleep and get some rest.

It felt like it hadn’t been that long when Sanji knocks on the door again, letting himself in to check up on you. You slowly sit up and peer to him and he freezes. “Oh- Did I wake you up love? I’m so sorry if I did!” He says nervously, a bit worried that he’d disturbed his sweet little baby. You perk up to the scent of chocolate and flip your body over to face Sanji. “No you didn’t..something smells nice though.” You say to him.

Sanji smiles widely before revealing a small batch of brownies to you along with setting a glass of water onto your nightstand. Your saddened face perks up into a smile as Sanji sits beside you, holding the warm brownie tray underneath a towel. “You said you wanted brownies right? I made some for you! Just don’t eat too many of them.” He says, blinking softly to you. You hug Sanji and it catches him off guard.

“Thank you Sanji…” You thanked him, laying your head against his shoulder. He smiles and presses a smooch to your temple, making a bit of blush dust your cheeks. “You’re welcome sweetheart. Now please, take one.” He urges you. Reaching your hand out, you grab a brownie from the corner of the pan, and hum from the chocolatey scent filling your nose.

Taking a big bite, you hum in delight and scarf the brownie down out of slight hunger and the sweet, warm taste of the chocolate mix. “So good! They’re so moist too~” You smile before taking another one and eating it, this time a bit slower than before. Sanji sat there and watched you as you indulged in the brownies. Even if it was something sweet, at least you were eating something for him.

After eating about three brownies, you reach for the glass of water and gulp it down. “I’m a little full now, but they were so good!” You tell Sanji. “Well, since you had some of these, you have to promise me that you’ll eat dinner tonight. Okay sweetie?” Sanji bargained, hoping that you’ll eat something more than just sweets. You nodded and lay yourself against Sanji. “I promise, I’ll eat dinner tonight for you. Thank you for the brownies Sanji~” You smile, pressing a kiss to his soft cheek.

Sanji turns a deep shade of red and smiles lovingly before hugging you back, a little mewl leaving his lips. “Y-You’re welcome sweetheart~” He hums. You pull him closer to you, wanting him to stay after he stayed and baked for you. “Don’t leaveeee…Please stay for a little bit more Sanji~” You begged, laying yourself against your fluffy pillows.

Sanji sighs happily before nodding. “I can stay a bit longer for you love.” He whispers to you, laying himself against the pillows and pulling you closer. You yawned and a sweet smile appears across your face. Your arms were wrapped a bit tight around his thin waist, and his arms were wrapped underneath yours, holding you.

“Thank you…Sanji.” You yawned, laying your head against his soft cotton shirt. He smiles before pressing another kiss to your head.

“Of course sweetie, go back to sleep now.

#one piece #one piece smut #one piece fluff #op smut #op fluff #one piece x female reader #one piece sanji #op sanji #sanji smut #sanji fluff #vinsmoke sanji #puddingcupimagines

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harasharaved · 8 months

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Jason Todd Fics - September 2023

Fics I recommend with a focus on or POV of Jason Todd. Masterpost can be found here.

Key: Has a ship or romantic plot, unfinished, multi-chapter, one-shot

NOTE: some of these do require an AO3 Account to read.

Whisper Closely in My Ear by Kangarou

The words went in one ear, rattled around like bees, before ramming out the other. The doctor was sitting painfully close, only two feet away. The tone of voice implied he was talking louder, not quite a yell but something nearly there; it sounded like a whisper to Jason. So quiet, with every third word unintelligible, except for that first phrase: "Mr Wayne, I'm afraid you're profoundly deaf." --- Jason is profoundly deaf. He learns to cope with it.

An AU in which Jason is deaf. This is one of my favorite Jason fics. I often find myself coming back to it. Its a great character study, introspective and has that delicious kind of hurt you just want to sit with for a while, with a helping dollop of comfort.

Children Will Listen by Parker Avenue

Jason Todd is good at extortion. He's what the adults call a snoop - nobody paid attention to the little kid with the big ears. Without even realizing, adults would hand him the keys to getting what he needed. Jason knew how to collect information, because adults found information valuable. And it was. It was free, easy to get, and easy to carry, so long as he kept his head clear and his facts straight. Jason had information Batman could use. He knew it. He had thought it over all day, sitting on that moldy couch, eating stale saltines. Batman would definitely be interested in the information Jason had. Batman had become scary again, like the old stories Jason used to hear the goons in the area tell. Breaking bones, just barely keeping people alive. Batman didn’t kill, no, but sometimes? Sometimes living was worse, maybe. Jason stayed crouched behind that dumpster, silent, because he simply couldn’t decide if Batman was far gone enough to make a kid wish he was dead. (Jason Todd knows how to get what he wants, and Batman tries to lure him to safety.)

Okay I will admit, my biggest weakness is fics about street kid Jason. Slow adoption got me good. Anyways, this one isn't finished but I love the way the pacing takes its time. Co-parents Bruce and Selina is never a con either!

Stargazer by LemonadeGarden

Jason Todd is seriously injured during patrol one night, and is forced to stay at the manor to recuperate until his injuries are healed. To pass the time, he makes a list of things he never got to do before he died. Except there's one small problem: most of them involve Bruce, and Jason doesn't really think Bruce cares all that much about him anymore. This is a story about how wrong he is, but I made it sad anyway.

I'm sure everyone and their mother has rec'd this fic, but I'm doing it anyways because I love it deeply. If you haven't read it, this is your sign!

Glow in the Dark Stars by essspressso (stylesmakethefight)

“I’m being serious, asshat,” Jason hisses, swatting his hands away from his face. “You have to tell me what year it is.” Nightwing crosses his arms a little petulantly. “It’s 2017. Happy?” Jason freezes, breath catching in his throat. 2017. Five years ago. He was…he was fifteen. “Shit,” he murmurs. He’s going to eviscerate Tim. Or: Red Hood Jason and 15-year-old Jason swap timelines, landing one week before 15-year-old Jason is supposed to die.

Time travel trope + Jason Todd's tragic ass life = amazing fics. Feelings, prepare to be felt! LOTS of Angst. You might even shed a tear. Wonderful fic!

Too Much Fucking Salt by Pez_The_Platypus

A rural housewife instinctively understood the law of quantity into quality. Add a pinch of salt to a soup and it tasted better; add one pinch too many and you ruined the batch. Jason had been in limbo for a year and a half, trusting things would get better even though everything just seemed to be getting worse. It was something small that set him off, but really, it was an accumulation of a lot of things that led to this. He was going to kill the Joker.

A one shot, but a LONG one. This one is very sad, heavy, and bittersweet. Its not Bruce or Dick "bashing", it provides a pretty well rounded and human description of them, which is to say they are not angels. Still, if you love pondering the tragedy of Jason Todd and themes of coping with trauma and the inherent grating sensation of trying to heal, this is a great fic for you.

YOU MUST KNOW LIFE TO KNOW DECAY by orpheusaki

Bruce starts, eyes glaring down at the city and unwilling to look anywhere else, especially in Jason's direction, "You always… hated the rain." Jason's breath gets caught in his throat. (For as long as Jason can remember, it's always been raining.)

Jason angst and character study rooted in comic-accuracy. Great short read!

This Kind of Weather by r_astra

Jason’s at school when his mom dies, and that’s the only reason any of it happens. If he’d been home, if he’d been with her, he would’ve been in the wind before anyone else even knew. Even if they looked, no one ever would’ve found him. He’d have taken to the sewers if that’s what it took, man-eating crocodile guy and all.

Yes, another Jason Todd adoption fic, one in which he does not steal the tires. I have a type and I'm limiting myself to only 2 of the many I love. This one does not have much of a focus at all on the Bat-side of things, just a story of Jason finding a home, much older than in the comics.

A Straight Blade by Sparkypants

"What happened to your face?" Bruce asks, reaching his hand for Jason's jaw. "You're bleeding." Jason bristles, cheeks turning pink. "I cut myself shaving." He says, and wipes at the cut with the cuff of his hoody. Damian makes a clicking noise with his tongue, "I'm amazed you haven't taken your own head off." He snarks. Jason shoves his chair away from the table, temper flaring. "Well it's not like anyone ever taught me, is it." He hisses. He's five years late, but Bruce finally teaches Jason how to shave.

Quick one-shot with feelings. Great little read I often find myself revisiting.

Growing Like a Breeze by WhaleofaTime

April 27th isn't anyone's favorite date, but it's somehow worse than usual today when Bruce gets his car stolen. It's nice of Red Hood to come to his rescue. Nicer even that Jason keeps him company afterwards.

One of those fics that explains everything about why Jason and Bruce's dynamic and relationship is so magnetic to read about. They both suck at feelings and yet make me feel SO MUCH.

#Jason Todd #DC #batfam #dc comics #fic recs #I have a lot more but i think this is enough for one post #Sarah's Bullshit #this is way more fun than all the work I'm meant to be doing right now.#please enjoy! tell me if theres one you really like bc i am always down to yell about fics!

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vodika-vibes · 3 months

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Hi, Vod'ika. I recently read your works and I loved them all, especially Hunter's. Can you write something with him with the trope "there's only one bed"? If I may give you a kick-start, maybe he and reader (F! Reader, please.) They are left without a pick up because the Marauder is not in a condition to face the storm on the planet they are on. So they need a place to spend the night. Xx

Sharing is Caring

Summary: When a terrible storm separates you and Hunter from the rest of the Batch, you have no choice but to try and make the best of it. Unfortunately, the only inn with a vacancy only has one room available. Luckily, you don’t mind sharing with your Sergeant.

Pairing: TBB Hunter x F!Reader

Word Count: 2660

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @clonethirstingisreal

A/N: Hihi! I'm glad that you liked my stories! Especially my Hunter stories, since I'm still not 100% about my characterization of him! But I made a new divider specifically for this story! ☺️

You’re drenched.

Soaked to the bone.

Your hair is plastered to your head, and the civvies that you’re wearing are clinging, uncomfortably, to your body, and you know that you’re shivering because Hunter keeps shooting you concerned looks, even as he tries to raise the Marauder on his comm.

How, exactly, he’s not shivering when he’s just as drenched as you are, is a mystery for the ages.

Maybe the Kaminoans made it so the clones just don’t get cold. The lucky assholes.

You wrap your arms around yourself as a particularly violent shiver zips through you. “H-Hunter-” Your teeth are chattering too. He raises a single finger as he lifts his comm to his ear, apparently finally managing to get ahold of Tech.

Honestly, you’re surprised it’s this cold.

This is a tropical planet according to the very detailed lecture that Tech bored you to tears with before the ship landed. The planet never, ever gets cold enough for people to need things like heaters…or long pants.

So, since this was supposed to be an undercover mission, you dressed according to what Tech told you, a cute sundress and sandals. Hell, even Hunter is dressed in short sleeves, though he, at least, has long pants and boots to protect his feet from the frigid rain.

You’re not so lucky.

You step up a little higher, trying to keep your feet out of the frigid puddles of water, and then anxiously cast your gaze over to Hunter. He has a severe look on his face, and your heart sinks.

You know that look.

That’s Hunters, ‘the marauder can’t come and get us for some reason, so we’re on our own’ look.

You see it a lot.

“It’s fine, Tech. We’ll make it work.” You tune into Hunter’s conversation now that he’s talking and not just listening, “Just get the ship somewhere safe.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then he disconnects the call, and slides the comm into his pocket, before he turns his gaze towards you. His dark eyes scan you, and he looks deeply concerned.

“We’re stuck here, aren’t we?” You ask.

“Just for a couple of days,” Hunter replies, “Tech says that the storm is going to get a lot worse really quickly.”

“Figures.” You say with a sigh.

Hunter scans you one more time, “We need to get you out of the cold. You look like you’re freezing.”

“I am freezing,” You counter, “Do you have a personal heater in your body or something?”

Hunter laughs softly, “Not quite.” He steps into the massive puddle so that he’s closer to you, “Hands on my shoulders, mesh’la.”

You immediately do as he asks, and Hunter gently grips your hips before he swiftly lifts you over the puddle and sets you on the other side, “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hunter glances around, “Tech said that there’s an inn nearby that has a vacancy. He already commed them and made a reservation for us.”

“Tech’s the best,” You say empathically.

Hunter grins at you, “He has his moments. Come on, let’s get out of this rain.” He doesn’t move until you fall into step next to him, and he presses his hand against the small of your back to guide you.

You don’t mind. He’s warm and you’re freezing, and, to be completely honest, you don’t have any qualms about having such a handsome man pressed close to your side.

Two years ago, when the war first began, the organization that you are a part of reached out to the Jedi and offered the services of their doctors and battlefield medics.

And while the Jedi, and the Clones, weren’t sure about it, at first, it quickly became apparent that they needed the help. After all, Clone medics were very good, but they didn’t have the kind of specialized training that people from Doctors Without Borders had.

Or the equipment, for that matter.

Two years ago, you were a recent graduate from medical school, and had just finished a 6 month tour on a planet ravaged by a plague. And you went right from there, to Kamino.

Admittedly, there was something of a rough start at first. The Kaminoans resented the fact that there was an outside doctor treating them pet projects, and you resented the fact that the Kaminoans called these men their Pet Project.

But you never had a problem with the men in CF99 themselves. Well, not outside of you putting your foot down and telling them that they will keep their room clean and clean smelling or you would do it for them.

And really, you haven’t had a single issue since then.

Well, okay. That’s not true.

There is one, rather massive, issue. And that issue is your massive crush on Hunter.

Something that he doesn’t help with by being so protective and so kind and so…perfect.

The asshole.

“Here it is,” Hunter’s voice interrupts your thoughts as he comes to a stop in front of a small inn. It looks very lived in, which, in your experience, means that it probably started out as a bed and breakfast. He glances at you, and gently nudges you towards the door, “Come on.”

Hunter opens the door for you, and you, gratefully, step into the warmth of the building. You step to the side to let Hunter in, and then try to shake some of the dripping water off your fingers.

“Ah, got caught in the storm, did you?” An older woman says from behind the desk, she has a kind smile on her face, “You must be Hunter. Your brother called to make a reservation.”

Hunter shook some of the water off of his hands as well, before he walked over to the desk, “Yes ma’am, that’s me.”

“Splendid,” The older woman bustles around for a moment, before she slides a pair of key cards across the counter, “Here you go, two keys for the room. There’s a kitchenette in the room, as well as extra blankets and towels.”

“Thank you,” You say from where you moved to stand next to Hunter and accept the key that he gave you.

The woman smiles at you, “Now, the pair of you are staying in another building. You have to go out the front door, across the street and up the hill. Your room is in building 13, on the third floor.” She beams at you, “Now, you two better hurry before the hail starts.”

Hunter’s head snaps up, “Hail?”

“Oh, yes. There’s always hail.”

Hunter’s gaze darts to you again, the look of concern returning, and you smile at him reassuringly, “Come on, Hunter. We’d better hurry then.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” He nods at the older woman and then motions for you to lead the way back to the door.

It takes less than ten minutes to get from the hotel lobby to the hotel room, and Hunter unlocks and opens the door just in time, as it starts to hail as soon as you’re both safely in the room.

“Lucky timing,” You say as you peer out the front door at the hail bouncing on the ground.

Behind you, Hunter releases a heavy sigh. “I’m going to strangle Tech,” you hear him mumble.

“Eh? Why? What’s wrong?” You shut the door and peek around Hunter to peer into the room properly.

At first, you don’t see the problem. The room looks clean and it doesn’t have any strong scents that might overwhelm Hunter. And then you see what the problem is.

Really, it’s kind of obvious, now that you’re looking at it.

There’s only one bed.

A decent sized bed, much bigger than the bunks you have to use on the Marauder, but still, there’s only one.

“Oh.” You pause thoughtfully, “Well, easy solution. I can sleep on the floor and-”

“Absolutely not.” Hunter interrupts. “I am not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

You sigh, “Hunter, you can’t sleep on the floor.”

“I’ve slept in more uncomfortable places.” He points out, “You’re the doctor, you deserve the bed.”

“That’s ridiculous. You need-” You’re cut off when a violent shiver wracks your body, and all of the fight drains out of Hunter.

“You need to take a shower to warm up.” He says, “What clothes do you have with you?”

“Just some pajamas and a single change of clothes,” You admit, “We weren’t supposed to be here long. They should still be dry though.”

“Good. Go ahead and shower, and we can work out sleeping arrangements later.”

You make a face at him, but know that he’s right. So you slide off your soaked sandals, and then cross the room to slide into the fresher. You’re very relieved to see that there’s bodywash, shampoo, and conditioner already in the fresher.

Not to mention, the room is warm.

You allow the fresher door to slide shut, and turn on the water.

Hunter glances at the fresher door as the water turns on, and he slowly releases a heavy breath. He really is going to strangle Tech.

As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, now he had to try and come up with a reasonable explanation for why he can’t share a bed with his pretty baar’ur.

Obviously the truth won’t work.

I’m completely in love with you and I don’t trust myself to share a bed with you.

Yeah. The only thing that will accomplish is scaring her away, and then his brothers will kill him. Including Echo, especially Echo. She’s helping him with his physical therapy after all.

He pulls his bandana off, and pushes his hand through his soaked hair as he tries to think.

Hunter’s gaze is drawn to the Fresher when he hears soft singing, and a small smile lifts his lips. She only sings when she’s happy, and sometimes it feels like her singing is for his ears only, since she never sings where his brothers can hear her.

He sinks into a chair and closes his eyes, allowing her soft voice to soothe him.

He really did love her more than anything.

Hunter opens his eyes as the water turns off, and he casts his gaze towards the ceiling. He still hasn’t come up with a reason that they shouldn’t share.

The problem being, of course, the fact that he wants to share the bed with her. He wants to be able to bury his face in her hair and wrap his arms tightly around her, and hold her close. He also wants to press a million little kisses across her skin, to learn if she’s as soft as she looks–

The door slides open, and Hunter’s gaze drifts from the ceiling to the love of his life.

She’s clad in a tank top and some shorts, and Hunter has the feeling that she made them herself, because the shorts have the skull of CF99 etched on the hem.

“I feel so much better now,” She says, as she drapes the towel over her head, and then she grins at him, “You can use the shower now, if you want.”

“Yeah, I will.” His gaze lingers on her shorts, “Those are new.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” She lightly taps the embroidered skull, “You like them? I was bored while you guys were on a mission, and I made this.”

“Why haven’t you worn them before now?” Hunter asks.

“And let Crosshair harass me about my spindly chicken legs?” She demands, “No thank you.”

Hunter laughs, “He only teases you because he likes you.”

“I know, I know.” She crosses the room and drops on the edge of the bed, “Still, he could be nicer about it. What if I was sensitive about my legs?”

“Are you?”

“No.”

Hunter grins, “Then it doesn’t matter, does it?”

She makes a face, though she looks amused, so Hunter isn’t overly worried, “I had an idea,”

“Oh?”

“I think we should share the bed.” She says.

Kriff.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Hunter replies slowly.

Something very similar to anxiety crosses her face, a look he hasn’t seen since the early days of her partnership with his squad, “I don’t take up that much space-”

“I don’t want to share a bed.”

The anxiety on her face slides into genuine hurt, and she averts her gaze, “Oh.”

Double kriff.

“Not for the reason you’re probably thinking, mesh’la,” Hunter offers, his voice gentle.

She rubs her arm, and doesn’t look at him, “If you really don’t want to share, then I have to insist that you take the bed. If something happens-”

“I don’t want to share with you because I don’t want to scare you away.”

“...what?” She lifts her head to look at him, the hurt turning into absolutely bafflement.

Hunter sighs, “You have no idea the effect you have on me, do you?”

Her confusion only increases.

“You’re so good, and kind. And…stars, I love you so much.” He folds his arms over his chest, to keep himself from doing something foolish, like standing up and touching her. “Too much, maybe. My brothers would never forgive me if I scared you away.”

She stares at him, “Hunter,” She pauses for a moment, to collect her thoughts, “For someone who is so observant, you sure are blind sometimes.”

“What?”

She looks exasperated, “Even Tech noticed my crush on you. Tech. Do you have any idea how awful that conversation was?”

Hunter’s jaw drops, “Wait! Is that why Tech has been asking me about what I would want in a romantic partner?”

“Oh Force,” She presses her hand over her eyes, her face burning with embarrassment, “Has he?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry. I swore him to secrecy…figures that he would try and find a loophole.” And then she drops her hand, “But, since you know that I feel the same way, maybe you won’t mind sharing a bed with me now?” She sounds hopeful and so vulnerable at the same time.

And really, how could Hunter do anything other than agree?

With the conversation over, and needing time to think about what she said, Hunter retreats to the fresher to get warm.

And when he finishes in the shower and leaves the fresher, he sees her laying on her side under the blanket, her gaze locked on the holo across the room. “It looks like the storm is going to last several days,” She says without turning her gaze away from the holo, and Hunter’s glad for it.

The last thing he wants is for her to see how anxious he is about sharing a bed with her.

Slowly, carefully, he slides under the blanket, “What kind of weather can we expect?” Hunter asks, pleased that he managed to keep his voice so even, as he leans against his pillows and flickers his gaze from her, over to the holo, and then back.

“Wind, rain, hail,” She shakes her head, “I hope Tech managed to get the ship to safety. The wind gusts they’re predicting are insane.”

“I’m sure he did. You know Tech,”

She glances at Hunter, and shifts just enough to rest her head on his shoulder, “Is this okay?”

He exhales slowly, and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “It’s more than okay.”

“That’s good.” She replies, and then she’s quiet for a moment, “Hey, Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

He releases a surprised breath, and then a soft laugh slips from him, “Cyare, you don’t have to ask.”

“You just weren't sure about this, so-” She’s cut off when Hunter leans in and presses his lips against hers in a very chaste kiss, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face.

“Cyare,” Hunter murmurs, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She smiles at him brightly, and he decides right then and there that he would do anything to keep that smile on her face.

#star wars #tbb #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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dragonrider9905 · 1 month

Text

Celebrating You!

Hi guys! I’ve been on here for a bit now and while I never had a follower goal, I do appreciate you guys who have decided to follow me! So now I’d like to celebrate you!

In light of TBB ending, and how much we'll be missing the boys, I thought this was as good as a time as ever!

Here’s the idea! I’m opening a prompt request for the dates of April 5th through May 5th, 2024 (you may start submitting now though!) and choose from the prompts below! You can choose one from each category, or just one category. It’s ok if it is just the prompt or the prompt and a brief idea. If you have a fun idea or prompt not listed, please share!

Rules: I only write SFW. I typically write for clones; I reserve the right to refuse requests which make me uncomfortable for whatever reason. I have had a few requests in the past that really unsettled me for various reasons. Or if I don't know the character. I'd hate to try to write something then upset the person because it is so ooc that it's cringy. (But if I said I would write your request and haven't yet, I just honestly haven't gotten to it :D I like to do well on the stories you guys entrust to me so it does take me a bit :D)

This is supposed to be fun so lets keep it fun!

You may submit as many requests as you'd like! The more the merrier!

Characters: Star Wars Clone Wars or The Bad Batch (as long as I know them. I know a lot of clones but alas, not all.)

Story genre:

Classic SW! (Pick an era if they exist in more than one if you wish)

AU of choice (modern, western, pirate, mermaid, time traveling, etc if I’m unfamiliar with the genre, I may have to change it or request more details)

Dialogue Prompts:

“Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

“If we’re going to do this we’ll need—“ “A plan?” “No! Code names! Cool ones!”

“I don’t need to be anything to you. I just want my life to mean more to you than my death.”

“You are playing a dangerous game without even a glimpse of the rule book.”

“I’ve never been terrified of death, til he set his sights on you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” “Yeah, you’re not allowed to ask that in this situation.”

“Where’s your shoe?” “The giant mud puddle in the road demanded a sacrifice.”

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist.” “Then how else do I describe the feeling I got when I first saw you?” “You…love me?” “Apparently not, according to you.”

“A fate worse than death….” “They’re burnt cupcakes.”

“White paint has more color than your face.”

“Why is there a dragon in my fridge?” “It was hot.”

“Touch **, and you’re dead.”

“I am the law.”

“Do that again and I’ll throw you out the window. Wait, what are you doing?” “Checking how high the drop is; seeing if it’s worth it.”

“I’d rather have you hate me than loose you entirely.”

“I have a mission but don’t know what it is.” “Well that sounds incredibly counterproductive.”

“I would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulties in your life.” “You are the worst at this comforting thing.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this but I’m quite petite.” “Really? I had no idea in our twelve years of friendship that you’re shorter than I am.”

“But what is power?” “Loyalty.”

“Don’t you sign to me in that tone.”

“I’m with him/her for better or worse.” “It’ll probably be worse.” “I knew that the day I met him/her.”

"I'm sorry I tried to kill you." "It's fine, but next time you should try harder."

"C'mon, like I need an excuse to spend time with you."

"You're not as bad as everyone says you are."

"The only one who gets to kill you is me."

“blood loss”? well it’s not lost. I know exactly where it went. right over there.”

“How the mighty have fallen!” “It’s a dropped chocolate bar, stop being dramatic.”

“Shit, we’re gonna die” “Now I don’t want to hear that negative attitude, look on the bright side!” “Yay! We’re gonna die! Woo!”

“How do you do it?” “How do I do what?” “Pretend you are ok.” “I’m not pretending.” “Yes, you are. Every single day and it breaks my heart.”

“Hey, so I know things are pretty f**** shitty right now but I need you to breathe for me.” “Wha-wh-wh-” “You’re having a panic attack. It’s gonna be ok. Just breathe with me.”

“Please, my arms—I can’t wipe my tears, don’t let them see!”

"Smiles are contagious!" "Don't worry, I'm vaccinated."

"I don't want to get involved, it's too risky." "Please do it for me, you're the only one I can turn to." "It's not worth it. You really want to lose everything? 'cause I don't."

"Do you ever think of anyone other than yourself?" "No"---a long pause---"actually yes, at Christmas time"

"There is a reason I go through that door first, It's to make sure everyone else walks back out"

“I can’t leave you here!” “You can and you will.”

"OH! Are you alright? Are you alright?" "Apart from being trapped under here, and maybe suffering from broken bones and embarrassment beyond what I am capable of handling. . . I'm dandy, why do you ask?"

Oh no, are you alright? You're covered in blood!" "Yes, it's yours, Now will you please let me take you to the hospital?"

"What did love ever do anything for anyone anyway?"

"What the hell were you even thinking?!" "You told me not to think!"

"With love comes loss, that's part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it was all worth it. There's no greater gift than love."

“'Temporary stitches' all stitches are temporary if you have a pair of scissors and aren’t a coward" "What do you....that better not mean what I think you mean......" "Am I just talking about sewing stitches or sutures too? Maaayyybe?" "NO! Absolutely not!"

"I made the calculations, and boy am I bad at math."

"It'll be over soon, I promise."

"Working together again, just like old times." "Well, not just like old times."

"I am many things but not your enemy."

Action Prompts:

Forehead kisses

Palm/hand kisses

Dramatic rain scene

Touching foreheads

Jealousy

Dancing

Last stand

Christmas/Life Day celebration

mistletoe

Accidental hand touch

First date

First kiss

Spending time with the family

Bad day cheering up scheme

Pranks

Going to a pet shop

Going to the movies

Always go after the girl

soft spoken person has loud, unnerving scream.

Lullabies

Nightmares

injury

amnesia

pretend/mistaken to be married/in a relationship

cooking

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xecutivecucumber · 2 months

Text

Executive Cucumber's thoughts on the Bad Batch: Season 3x06 and 3x07 (I'm pretty sure I'm formatting this differently every time. Oh well)

Okay, there's a subject I'm going to have to postpone until the end of the post because I want all my thoughts on that to be together: the main operative clone. And the rest might be slightly out of order. I'm also doing this before I see anyone else's thoughts, just so we get the pure version.

Let's go!

I honestly thought that Senator Singh and Riyo were dead meat. But no, they're fine because REX IS COOLER THAN ANYONE. Ugh that man. Freaking throwing the grenade back at him.

Clones are beautiful. That is all.

THAT'S THAT ONE PLACE FROM THE OG CLONE WARS MOVIE!!! TETH!!!

Howzer I love you but if you touch Crosshair we will be having words.

I am actually really proud of Crosshair and his restraint this episode. He could have been really cutting to Howzer.

OMEGA WITH THE TOOTHPIIIIICKS and Hunter is jealouuuus

EDIT: ECHO AND THE CROSSBOW HE'S SO SWEET

WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU CROSSHAIR

It's really nice to see normal clones being normal again. (Too bad it doesn't last)

There's something up with Omega. I'm not going to lie, I think that she and Rex are going to plan to get her captured in order to track her back to Tantiss.

HOWZER STOP DISTRUSTING CROSSHAIR THIS MOMENT

I appreciate that Hunter doesn't seem to distrust Crosshair during this point.

...they really shouldn't have brought that operative back.

Rex is considering stealing Omega, I swear. I love that he gets down to her level.

WOOOOOOOOOOOLFFE (Plo would be so disappointed in you)

It's...odd to see these normal troopers with him.

It's also strange that he cannot comprehend that the clones could be traitors at first.

STOP DYING YOU BEAUTIFUL REGS

'She only bites half the time' I'm pretty sure Omega is lying here but I don't care.

CROSSHAIR IS SUCH A WORRIED DAD HOLY CRAP. 'Oh, I'm much worse' I LOVE YOU

And this just gives such a little insight into how the Batch was when they were together. I have a feeling that Crosshair was a fusser and a nagger.

And I love how Howzer's natural and correct conclusion is: 'no one evil could love that child.' (Unless you're Nala Se)

Hey, actual candor from Crosshair. I keep saying this is who he always was under it all, but I do think he's healed somewhat, at least towards regs. The healing power of Omega.

'Too bad' I LOVE THIS MAN

STOP DYING REGS

Rex talking down Wolffe reminded me so much of him trying to talk Jesse down. So ow.

Okay, what ROCK have they shoved Wolffe under for the last YEAR??? YES THE EMPIRE WOULD GET RID OF THE CLONES YOU DOG BRAINED IDIOT

(Plo would be proud that you let them go)

...they just killed all of Rex's clones, except Howzer and Gregor. And I have a bad feeling about Howzer. STOP TAKING THINGS FROM REX HASN'T HE LOST ENOUGH???

Okay here we are, at the big topic. Hold onto your pants.

That operative clone. Is. Tech. Because if he is not, they are purposefully using the narrative to deceive us.

I might miss a few things, but that's because I'm up past my bedtime and I've been up too late the last few days.

1. The falling and water parallels. This clone falls a LOT during this episode and dives into a lot of water. He even falls into mist. This time it's to kill and capture his siblings instead of save them.

2. The injury. This clone is hobbling around a lot after his injury, which was immediately reminiscent of Tech's broken leg at the beginning of season 2. Both of them are forcing themselves past their limit to achieve a mission. Specifically with injured legs.

3. General attitude and demeanor. In combination with the stealth and injury, this clone has a more hunched posture. His speech patterns are more formal, though we haven't really heard a lot of other clone operatives talk with their helmets on. But he's also apparently allergic to orders. I first thought that he'd be out of the chain of command, but they would have told Wolffe that he wasn't in charge of the operative if that were the case. Or the operative would have straight up told him 'I don't take orders from you' instead of staring awkwardly at him. Instead he runs off and does his own thing. While injured. Not to mention the buttons on his gauntlet. The other clone operatives don't have those.

4. The cybernetic legs. Now we don't know for sure if Tech would have cybernetic legs, but it seems likely for a severely injured trooper. And when Crosshair is looking at the heat signature, you can see that his legs are blue instead of yellow or red. No heat. Not organic.

5. What he says to Crosshair. 'You could have been one of us.' 'You chose the wrong side.' Yes, he's talking about Crosshair resisting the re-education. But flip it on its head real quick. 'You could have been one of us. One of the Bad Batch.' 'You chose the wrong side. The Empire.' Those lines very easily have double meanings.

6. An interesting one is when he starts moving rocks after the explosion. Why would he do that? Why not immediately go find another way in? He's moving only the smaller rocks. There's a large one in the way that he couldn't move himself. And he doesn't get the rest of the troopers to come move it when they arrive. He almost seems confused.

Like he's somewhere else after an explosion, having to move rocks. Like in the Crossing.

I know that this hardly seem like iron clad evidence. But in the language of story telling, it's practically screaming in our faces.

And I'm so glad he's back. I missed him. He won't be himself for a while, but I legitimately believe we'll get one last fight with the Batch all together. Because brain washing is a heck of a lot easier to fix than being dead.

My sister is doing the good work and creating a tik token about it, and I'll probably share it here when she's finished.

(We're getting the episode 'Identity Crisis ON MY BIRTHDAY and so help me if that's about Tech)

Honestly I thought I'd be more excited, but I spent the entire two episodes forcing myself into not having expectations and also I might be in shock.

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raineandsky · 5 months

Text

The Villain's Housekeeper

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11)

tw death mention

The courtesy the villain has decided to show the hero has been incredibly weird. A relief, of course, but weird.

They avoid the hero most days now. The time they used to spend watching the hero break their back for them is now spent as far away from the hero as humanly possible. The hero kind of understands, though—since their damning little slip up in the bedroom last week, the villain’s demanded they stop doing the chores until their arm is better. There isn’t much to watch anymore.

And when the villain disappears out the front door for the night, it’s always with the same instruction now: “get a decent night’s sleep, don’t lie on your arm, and for the love of god don’t make it worse.”

No chores to be done in their absence. No rules. Just… rest. Get better. It’s a breath of fresh air.

Anyway, the lack of random work to do gives them more time to snoop. Okay, so it’s not no rules, but one very easily breakable rule. A rule they couldn’t care less about breaking—snapping clean in half, if they can. The agency taught them how to pry and leave no trace. This is the easiest, most rewarding part of their stay here. It's more of a routine than anything now, trekking through their notes.

The villain’s office is a mess, to put it lightly. It makes it just that little bit harder to restore when they’re done, but it doesn’t matter too much—they get information. A list of missing villains, heroes on hit lists, plans. Plans to infiltrate and extort and seduce and kill. God, everything the agency’s ever wanted is in here. The hero commits it all to memory, and by the time the villain gets home they’re already asleep on the sofa downstairs.

The villain always comes back in the early hours of the morning, and today is no different. The only difference is that the front door batters against the opposite wall and the villain staggers rather loudly into the kitchen.

The hero is up in an instant, sleep torn from them abruptly. They trail after the villain, glancing instinctively to the floor for blood, but the tile is clean. The villain sinks into a kitchen chair like it’s the last thing they’re ever going to do.

“[Villain]...?” the hero says into the silence. The villain barely responds, their gaze burning into the table as they lean their face against their palms, their elbows propped up on the table.

“We’re dying,” the villain says flatly. “We’re dropping like flies, and [Supervillain] is still trying to send us all to our deaths to save herself.”

It’s not hard to feign surprise; this wasn’t mentioned in any of the paperwork the hero’s seen. They pull a chair out and settle opposite them. “What do you mean?”

“What do I—” The villain’s tone is scathing for a moment, but they bite back the end of their sentence with a sigh. “Heroes are killing us. I’ve found more than one person face-down in some back alley. People I know—allies. Friends.”

The hero’s throat closes up for a long, long moment. “I– I’m sorry,” they say testily, but they come out as more of a choke. The villain doesn’t seem to hear them anyway.

“Every so often [Supervillain] sends a new batch of villains into the thick of it, to try and take down some of the heroes wiping us out. Those who do survive are few and far between, usually screwed up beyond repair. And [Supervillain]— she’s—”

The villain sucks in a shuddery breath. The hero waits patiently.

“[Supervillain]’s chosen her next round of sacrifices,” the villain says with a breath of a humourless laugh, and a knot twists in the hero’s stomach. The villain fixes them with an empty stare, and the hero shoves down the urge to glance away. “I’m one of them. I’m— I’m being sent to die.”

Perfect, some part of the hero’s mind murmurs. A safe haven, all to yourself.

But despite everything, the villain’s been kind to them. Even though they humiliated them and forced their hand, the hero’s not in the claws of the superhero yet because of them. And they’re going to die. The villain’s going to leave one day, and they won’t come back. The hero’s brain almost can’t wrap around it.

“She— I’ll be setting off… for good next Thursday.” The villain’s face morphs into hopelessness.

It’s Tuesday now. Nine days.

The villain clears their throat, though it doesn’t seem to dislodge the anxious rasp residing there. “I, uh— I’m sorry,” they say unexpectedly. “For being a villain, for making you dance for my entertainment to stay alive, for— god, for everything. I’m sorry, [Hero].”

The hero can only blink at them for a moment. Sorry? “That’s, uh… it’s okay,” the hero says dumbly after a moment.

“No, it’s not. The least I can do is fix what I can before I… y’know.” The villain’s eyes lock onto the hero’s so intensely that they can’t find it in themself to look away this time. “I’m so sorry.”

You saved my life. You let me stay here. You let me hide from your enemy. You let me hide from mine. You ignored the benefits of turning me out for what? Companionship? Necessity? Something else entirely?

The hero can’t say that to their nemesis. The villain already sounds insane saying all this. They don’t need to feed into the absurdity of the evening. So they simply force a smile, of sorts, onto their face, and say, “I forgive you.”

(next part)

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #the villains housekeeper #tw death mention #can. can you guess when the next part is gonna be >:)#if you wanna skip for the triggers but still wanna follow along lemme knowww #i can give you a rundown of parts sans trigger if you wanna keep up with the series :) dont want anyone missin out!!

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fatuismooches · 4 months

Note

SMOOOOCHES!!! hello sweetheart!! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

I hope you’ve been well since the last time I came on here!! (little update on my test results: everything came back clean except a few things came back indecisive but nothing to worry about! Chronic illness doesn’t seem to be getting any worse as of right now.) but asides from that here’s a little drabble as I was re-reading a few of my earlier drabbles from last year!

We know fragile!reader despises examinations and having to endure the painful injections every few weeks when Dottore batches up a new medicine. However, what if it backfires completely? Causing fragile!reader to be in an even weaker condition, barely able to move and clinging onto Dottore as tightly as they can. Perhaps running a fever, feeling miserable as they feel as if though their whole body is being pricked by thousands of needles as they shake from their fever. Dottore would try his best to not let his emotions show, but deep down he’s panicking and trying to figure out how he can cancel out the current “medicine” running through their body. To say Dottore feels guilt is an understatement, he knows that any medicine that they take can easily backfire quickly, but he never would’ve thought the symptoms would be so severe. :( once their condition stabilizes I like to think Dottore keeps them close for at least a few days, just to make sure everything is fine. Even if it means they’ll be all clingy to him, he’d rather they be safe and alive rather than induced in a coma once again.

A bit of fluff: I like to think Zandy definitely also tries to cheer you up after the whole ordeal. He’s not sure why you weren’t visiting or reading books to him anymore, other than that “you were busy with Dottore”, is what you had told him. But even the little baby knows you look more weaker (even if it’s been a few days, your condition had still worsened anyways). So perhaps he tries to draw you adorable silly drawings, and also show you his “safe” experiments. (Lest he get a scolding from Zandik or the clones again…)

‘m giving you so many chu chus n cuddles like always smooches hehe gonna make your cheeks all rosy pinky! <33 I hope you have a lovely day n spend it with a smile like always!

-from your dear boo boo bear 🎐 anon! ౨ৎ

HELLO MY DEAR 🎐 ANON!! Ahh I'm so glad your results were okay! I'm so happy for you and for getting through all of this! *hugs you* And I LOVE this brainrot! ❤️ I've always brainrotted about this idea hehe because angst of Dottore failing... teehee.

Dottore, being the skilled scholar he is, never fails to concoct new medications and treatments for you in hopes of creating something that sticks, along with the actual cure. These meds always go through a few rounds of testing, on his experiments of course (as you said before) but sometimes there is only so little that can be done. After all, your body is very different from the average person's. So, there have been times when the things he's given you didn't agree with your body very well, but they were never anything drastic. However, that was until this instance.

Dottore is a confident man. He's smart, he plans ten steps ahead, and things always go exactly as he orchestrated or predicted them to. So that's why he expected nothing different to be with this batch, maybe you'd have a few minor side effects that he'd note and so on, but he expected you to be fine, to then whine about how all of this was so much work, and he'd only hum at your complains to which you'd pout at. In the beginning, you seemed fine. Looked fine, your vitals were fine. But in a matter of minutes, when you got off the operating table, all of that changed, as dizziness and blurriness.

You tried to wave off Dottore's concern, observing your worsened state immediately, but your resistance was futile as your knees buckled, though your husband caught you before you could fall. Your skin was on fire, sapping away your strength as you couldn't even bring your hand up to stop your hacking and coughing. You try to speak but everything hurts far too much for you to muster your words, and you can barely process the muffled voices, footsteps against the floor, and hands running over your body (he must have called a few segments in too.) You pass out soon after, unable to see the blank look on Dottore's face, how his hands don't shake, how he is unfaltering and flawless in his steady work to counteract what he put in his body. Unable to see what only you can see - what he's really feeling underneath everything.

You don't wake up until a few days later, to which Dottore spent trying to figure out where he went wrong constructing this medication. If only he had been more careful, if he had run more tests, perhaps this may not have happened. Perhaps he wouldn't be the cause of your even weaker state. But even when you wake up, you just smile at him, assuring him that you're okay. You'd never blame him. Even though this was all this fault. He despises it sometimes, how you're so kind and forgiving. It's a weakness.

Sure, Dottore has a lot of work to be done, and having you around so much serves as a distraction to his work... but he'll let it slide. Just for a bit. At least it is a reminder to him that you're not permanently sleeping again.

Zandy, despite being left out of the loop many times, mostly due to your insistence that he not be burdened with your own troubles, can still sense something is wrong after a while. Yes, he's a child, but he's a rather smart one. And a very attentive one when it comes to his favorite person, you. He can see how much time you spend for "check-ups" with the segments and Prime now, far more than what it used to be... how you always look exhausted but force yourself to perk up and smile around him, assuring him you'll play with him "next time", even though numerous "next times" have passed. Zandy doesn't know the exact details, but that's okay, he can see what you're going through. So obviously he's going to try and make you smile! In the time he's not with you, he spends it doing all the things you like to do too. Drawing you two together of course, in a happy little house in Sumeru where the two of you play outside together all day with no worries! Maybe he even tried baking by himself to surprise you with something yummy (quickly stopped by a segment before he hurt himself or perhaps blew up the lab.) Maybe the child should take up sewing... maybe he can sew a little Puffttore squish ball for you! Oh, but you always told him to stay away from needles... well, it's okay if you don't find out until after the fact, right?

#smooches talks #🎐 anon #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #zandy bb <3 #giving you a million more chu chus!! and cuddles!!#i always luv luv ur brainrots!#only one post for tonight bc im eepy

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masterjedilenawrites · 4 months

Note

Hello there! I have a promt for you :)

What about TBB reacting to Omega getting her first period and/or the reader having a fear of needles but she needs a vaccination to travel to a planet?

Hello! I actually wrote a piece on Omega getting her first period and how her Batch brothers reacted. Read it here!

I haven't written anything close to the second prompt though, so I can do that one!

TBB & Reader | 1.7k words

Content: fear of needles/trypanophobia and related symptoms, brief description of a deadly disease, Star Wars cursing, platonic but you could read more into the Hunter or Wrecker bits if you wanted (Tech or Crosshair too, tbh, they're not getting any more comforting than that lol)

To say you were panicking was an understatement. You were utterly and completely freaking out. And worse, you were trying desperately not to let your companions see it. You'd fought valiantly beside them for the better part of a year, never once shying away from the things that would make others quake in their boots. But now you were moments away from having to face your biggest fear, and if they saw what it was, they'd never stop teasing you for it.

So you stayed out of the way as they made their preparations for landing, keeping your trembling hands behind your back and your gaze fixed as steadily as possible on an invisible point on the wall ahead. Thankfully they didn't seem to notice or care that you weren't helping out. But you couldn't escape their attention forever.

"Alright, you're next!" Tech called your name as the last of his brothers left their perch in front of him. You'd been keeping Tech and his needles in your periphery, not wanting to fully look at any of them, but also wanting to keep an eye out in case one of them magically took flight and caught you by surprise.

"No thanks. I'll be fine," you tried to dismiss the plan as nonchalantly as possible. But even Hunter stopped his packing to cock an eyebrow at you.

"You'll be fine?" he asked with a disbelieving laugh, like you'd just said you had a third arm. "It's a disease, sweetheart. You can't shoot it out of the air. Vaccine's the only way to protect yourself."

"It's an airborne virus, to be specific," Tech clarified. "Deadly to any species other than the natives of this planet. But thankfully they've donated enough blood to the GAR to help develop an effective vaccination. It's the only way we can go down to help them against the droids that ravage their world."

You made the mistake of looking over at Tech just as he held up a syringe and flicked its side. Holy kriffing bantha shit, was that needle long and thick. It was like a kriffing pipe. It glinted in the lights of the ship, like it was winking at you. Mocking you. Your heart immediately started picking up its pace.

"I'll take my chances," you tried one last futile attempt at escape. Somehow you kept your voice steady, forcing a normal tone around the frog that had lodged itself your constricting throat. But then Crosshair spared a glance in your direction and the ruse unraveled.

"You're scared," Crosshair stated plainly. He probably saw the bead of sweat that had just formed at your hairline. Or maybe he could see the veins in your neck pulsing quicker than they should've.

"You'll take large boils, severe dehydration, and bloody vomit over a shot?" Echo asked. Wrecker paused along with him and now everyone's attention was focused on your first ever display of fear. Fantastic.

"Not to mention death," Wrecker pointed out. "That's the worst symptom."

"I don't know if it could be called a symptom so much as a consequence," Tech mused.

"A consequence no one in the ship will be facing, thank you," Hunter asserted, finally walking over to you. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder, but his next words were a bit softer. "It doesn't hurt that much. You'll be okay."

You supposed you were grateful they were taking a more questioning and supportive approach than one of teasing, but it still didn't rectify the problem of you needing to go through with this shot anyway.

"I'm not worried about the pain," you muttered. "It's the..."

Your eyes flicked over to where Tech was still holding that damned needle high and proud. A chill overcame you and you felt yourself blanching.

"Okay, okay," Hunter quickly moved his hand to grasp your arm in an effort to keep you upright. "How about you sit down first. We'll walk you through this one step at a time."

Hunter waved Wrecker over and the burly clone immediately came over and picked you up. You weren't cured from your phobia but you did find his embrace comforting. You continued to cling to him as he sat you down on the counter by Tech. He chuckled but didn't protest. He stood next to you and kept his arm securely around you.

"Okay," Hunter said soothingly. "Now let's find a distraction for you. Keep your thoughts on something else."

"Maybe Tech could tell us all about the difference between bacteria and viruses," Echo said sarcastically.

You missed the glare Tech gave in response, unable to even think about what he looked like for fear of picturing a needle in his hands as well.

"Or," Hunter butt in, sensing your need for a different kind of distraction. "Let's practice your knife skills. Here."

He pulled out one of his trusty vibro-knives and placed it in your hand. The hilt was cold against your skin, heavy in your grip. You tried to focus on those sensations instead, and it almost worked in keeping your attention, until a different kind of cold feeling hit your other arm and you freaked out all over again.

"It's only a numbing swab," Tech said with a tinge of annoyance.

"No. No, no, no." You were shaking your hand frantically, scooting yourself backwards on the counter to get as far away as possible. Wrecker's arm tightened around you, preventing you from moving. "Nope. I can't do this."

"Sure you can," Wrecker tried to reassure you, but to no avail. You trembled against his hold.

"No. No, I'll just sit this one out. Stay on the ship. You boys go without me."

Tech huffed again, having to re-explain information he'd already shared when you'd first gotten this mission. "That won't work. We'll still be exposed to the virus and bring it back to the ship with us. We'll have to undergo a whole decontamination process when we're back on Kamino, the ship, too. And then it's quarantine for a minimum of 72 hours...."

You weren't listening. Your face felt wet. Were you crying or just sweating? Hunter was trying to get you to focus back on the blade in your hand, but your fingers were shaking so bad you couldn't even hold it.

"Maybe we should just knock her out," Crosshair said. He'd kept himself out of the situation but now couldn't help himself. Your agitation was too amusing.

"We're not knocking her out," Hunter rolled his eyes before cooing your name. You begrudgingly looked over at him. "It's okay. Please just twirl the knife and don't think about anything else. It'll be over before you know it."

A sudden clatter came from Tech dropping the syringe and you could almost feel Hunter's blood start to boil in annoyance. Just when he kept getting you to a good place....

"Tech," he growled.

You cowered into Wrecker's arms again. This could not be happening.

"What?" Tech was saying. "It slipped."

"I don't want to do this," you moaned, maybe a tad dramatically. You shut your eyes tightly, and prayed that when you opened them again, you'd find this was just some horrible dream.

"Oh for kriff's sake," came Crosshair's voice. "Hold her down."

Wrecker's other hand seized your arm in such a way that you couldn't move it. But even so, it happened so quickly you couldn't process fast enough to keep up. He gripped your arm and then there was a tight pinch as something broke through your skin. By the time your brain caught up to what was happening, Crosshair was already pulling the needle back out, swift and smooth. Your eyes flew open and your mouth formed a silent scream, but there was nothing to panic about anymore. The syringe was back out of sight, and in its place was but a mere drop of blood ballooning on the surface of your skin. Echo quickly stepped in to fix a bandage over it.

And that was that.

"See? Not so bad," Wrecker said with a chuckle. He finally released his hold on you, making you whine a little at the loss of such a solid support. You still felt woozy, though you had to admit the panic was dissipating fast.

Hunter, however, was not getting over his feelings as easily. He scowled at both Tech and Crosshair, though the latter was already leaving the scene to return to packing his weapons kit.

"That was a lot of fuss over nothing," Tech said plainly, refusing to meet Hunter's gaze. "Now I just need my shot, and then we can land and get on with the mission."

"You know, Tech," you said, glad you were able to find your voice again and it not sound too embarrassingly faint. "It might help me to get over this fear if I gave you your shot."

"Ha ha, very funny," the goggled clone shook his head, but then looked up at you nervously to gauge if you were serious. The smirk in your lips combined with the fact your face still hadn't recovered its color was indication enough you were not serious at all, only trying to give him as much grief as he'd given you.

"I think Cross has proved he has the steadiest hand," Echo played along with a smirk of his own.

Tech seemed to consider the idea before scooping up all the supplies onto his tray and shuffling away. "I think I can manage to inject myself, thank you. ETA is five minutes. Chop chop."

You let out a tired laugh as Tech disappeared into the cockpit. The others slowly went into their landing positions as well. Except Hunter, who folded his arms and gave you a strange look.

"So. Needles, huh? I was wondering what your weakness would be."

The faintest of smiles played on his features, helping you settle further into your own relief.

"Thank you," you said in response.

"For what?"

"For not making fun of me... And helping me get through it. Or, at least trying."

Hunter uncrossed his arms and stepped forward so he was close enough to put his hand on your shoulder once more.

"We've got your back. Always."

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#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #one shot #hurt/comfort #fear of needles #platonic #hunter #wrecker #echo #crosshair #tech

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familyvideostevie · 2 years

Text

𝕟𝕠 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘: 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣

a farmer's market steve harrington x reader au

part 1 [7.2k] | part 2 [8.3k] | part 3 [13.3k] | part 4 [4.7k] | au masterlist

Every day you wake up and wonder if today is the day you'll cry. It hurts to look at the blank walls of your bedroom and the small pile of things on your dresser you were going to put up: the drive-in ticket, a polaroid Jonathan took of you at the New-Bee's stall, a candle label from your first batch. Does it even matter now?

But the tears don't come. So you decide to push on the bruise in your chest, the ache that has returned full force but worse. It's in the shape of Steve.

You think about the first time you saw him, how you wanted him to touch you so badly even though he made you so mad. You think about him in the rainstorm, wet and willing to help you, you think about him under you at the drive-in, hands eager and rough. You think about him on top of you in his bed, gentle and tender as he panted your name.

And you've ruined it all. You've ruined whatever was between you, that glowing, beautiful thing, and you've hurt him in the process. Which is the thing you can't forgive yourself for.

You're eating breakfast in the farmhouse kitchen the morning of the first November market. Bob knows you're not coming -- you told him you weren't feeling great and he totally understands. You've worked hard the last few months and he knows it. He also knows that something is wrong, that Halloween changed something. That the phone call with Steve was about much more than just you getting home safely.

"Hey, kiddo," he says, packing his lunch before he leaves for the market. "Have you thought about what you want to do after the last market next week?" It's hard to believe that there really is only one more week in the season. The leaves are almost all gone and you can smell winter in the air.

You swirl your spoon in your oatmeal and don't look at him. "I'm not sure yet," you sigh. A call home last week hadn't helped, though it did convince you that the last thing you want is to move back in with your parents. "Mom says it's up to me."

"Well," he says, dragging out the word. "You're welcome to stay here and keep working on the farm. We've got lots of things to make for the holidays. Or you can get a job in town!" You don't realize that you never thought Bob would want you to stay until the words leave his mouth. But how silly of you to think that he'd be anything but kind to you, even if you're not contributing to his business. "Point is," he continues, "you can stay here as long as you want."

For a long second your heart considers it. Staying in Hawkins, making it your home. Regardless of your current circumstances.

Which you need to figure out. Regardless of how you feel and how Steve feels, you owe him an apology at the very least.

But you're not feeling very brave yet, so you call Sara's Farm while the market is going on, hoping no one will be there and you can just leave a message.

The dial tone only rings once before a sweet voice answers. "Sara's Farm, this is Jane, how can I help you?"

"Hi, El," you say. She gasps your name in delight, then says it once more in a tone you like much less. Did Steve tell anyone what you did? That you left him?

"Why aren't you at the market?" she asks. "Are you okay?" Her automatic concern washes away your own.

"Don't worry about me," you say.

"I do! Steve said you got sick on Halloween and had to go home. Are you still sick?" She doesn't totally believe you, you can tell. A lump rises in your throat. He's kept your business between you both. It makes your heart do something funny in your chest.

"I feel better," you lie. "Can you tell Steve that I called? That I want to talk to him?"

El pauses before she answers. "Do you think you're gonna figure it out? Whatever happened?" Smart girl, you think.

"I hope so," you tell her. She says your name again, this time sounding like a scold.

"Good, because you both are much more fun when you're happy together." That, more than anything in the last few days makes tears prick in your eyes.

And maybe that's why you burst into tears when someone knocks on the farmhouse door and you see that it's Robin. You can barely speak when she spills into the kitchen, cheeks rosy despite her hat, gloves, and at least four layers.

"So you are alive!" she says, and then realizes you're basically sobbing. "Oh, god. Wait, let me just --" She toes off her shoes and drops her gloves and outermost jacket on the ground before she opens her arms. "Okay. Do you want a hug?" You step into her embrace before she's finished asking. Her hands rub up and down your back in a slightly awkward way that's all Robin.

"Sorry," you hiccup. "This is embarrassing. I don't know why I'm crying." That much is true. There are so many things you're feeling that you don't know which ones you're upset about at this moment.

"I'm not good with crying girls," she says as you both sway side to side in your hug. "Crying anyone, really. I just never know what to say! But I do know that you have nothing to be sorry about. You can cry all you want. It's great for your skin! Well, I don't actually know that but Nancy told me once. And, well, you know Nancy. If she says it it's probably true, right?" You huff, throat thick but eyes starting to dry. You wiggle out of her arms and turn to wipe your face.

"Do you want something to drink?" you ask her. "How was the market?" Ever adaptable to a change of subject, Robin sits at the kitchen table as you fill a glass of water without waiting for her answer.

"It was...boring without you," she says slowly. "Strange, too. Bob told people you didn't feel great so I thought I'd come check on you."

You hum and sniff a little. You must look like a wreck from crying. "I, uh..." You can't look at her.

"I know something happened." She sighs. "Steve didn't tell me what but I figure you guys had a fight or something? And look, he's my best friend but you're both my friends and I don't want to get in the middle of it but I do care that you're both miserable."

You turn around and she's looking at you with such kindness, such warmth, that you have to swallow another round of tears. "We didn't fight," you tell her. "The opposite, really. But I messed it up and hurt him because I'm scared."

"Kinda looks like you hurt yourself, too," she says, not unkindly. "Is it something...you want to fix?"

"I don't know if I can." You scrub at your swollen eyes with cold hands. "But even if he can't forgive me I need to explain myself and apologize. And then..." you trail off.

"And then?" she asks. "I know you have a lot going on so I wasn't going to ask but there's only one market left and...do you know if you're gonna stay here? In Hawkins?"

You don't answer right away and Robin squirms in her seat but lets to think about it. Because a not small part of you wants to tell her that yes, you'll stay. You want to. You love it here. But things are a mess right now and it doesn't feel fair to make the choice before you've talked to Steve.

"I don't know," you finally say. 'I don't know how staying would work. It might be better just to leave. Easier." The words taste wrong in your mouth but you can't take them back.

Robin's chair scrapes on the hardwood as she gets up and walks around the table to stand in front of you. "One thing at a time, then, right? And you'll tell me when you decide?" You grab her hand.

"Of course, I will. I just have to talk to Steve first."

___

It takes you three days to work up the courage to call Sara's again. Hopper picks up.

"Sara's," he says gruffly.

"Uh, hi, it's --" He sighs before you can finish your sentence.

"Harrington!" he yells, though it's muffled as if he covered the receiver with his hand. Your stomach flips. "What do you mean who is it? Who else calls around here looking for you?" You can't hear Steve, and then Hopper's back on the line.

"I don't think I want to know why he won't talk to you," he says. This time, your stomach feels like a lead weight.

"That's fine," you rush out. "Can you give him a message for me? Uh, Hopper, sir?"

"Jesus Christ," he says. "I guess I don't have a choice. He looks like a kicked puppy."

"Tell him to meet me at the lake tonight, if he can? Where we had the bonfire? 8 pm?" You try to keep the pleading out of your voice but you must fail because Hopper's next words are almost kind.

"Sure, kid. I'll tell him." The phone clicks and you hear the dial tone.

You don't really expect him to show up. It's freezing, cold enough that you're sitting in the cab of the truck with the heat on while you wait in the dark. The remains of your bonfire from weeks ago sit in the fire pit, the ash and charred logs illuminated by your headlights. Why did you think this was a good idea? Steve has no reason to hear you out. He has every right to never speak you to again, no matter how awful that would be.

But then you hear it -- the rumble of a truck, headlights bright on the shore next to yours. Before the lights in the cab go out you can see Steve take a deep breath. He opens the door and walks quickly through the cold, his breath puffing in front of him, to your passenger door. You have to force yourself to keep your own inhales even at the sight of him. Your entire body feels like it's aching as he climbs in next to you. He feels miles away.

"Hey," he says. He clears his throat and doesn't look at you for longer than a quick glance up and down. "Are you okay? You weren't at the market on Saturday."

"I'm fine," you say, the lie now familiar in your mouth. "Are you okay?" You don't know what possesses you to ask. He looks fine, if a little cold. Same warm eyes, if a bit wary, messy hair pushed into his hat haphazardly. He looks pretty as always.

"Honestly?" You nod, though he's not looking at you. "Not really."

"Steve--" you start, but he interrupts you.

"I wasn't going to come," he says, then shakes his head. "No, sorry, that's not true. I've been jumping every time the phone rings for almost a week, hoping it's you. But I can't bring myself to answer it. I've been desperate to see you again but I also can't look at you because it makes me sad."

"Sad?" you whisper.

"Because I don't understand what happened. And I want to fix it, but I also want to be mad at you. And I can't figure out how to do either."

He doesn't say anything else and you take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Steve," you say. You've said the words out loud to yourself hundreds of times by now and they taste funny in your mouth. Like missed opportunity. Like your own mistakes.

"Can I ask why?" he says, finally turning to look at you head-on. "Why you left?"

"I--yeah. Yeah, of course. I want to explain myself. I owe you that." How do you do this without telling him you love him? Without sounding like you're trying to manipulate him into forgiving you? Because that's the last thing you want to do. "I hope I don't need to tell you that it's nothing you did," you say. "It's all me. And I know that sounds like it's not you, it's me but that's the truth. It's me. I-- I freaked out. I freaked out because you have changed my entire life, Steve. You've turned it upside down and made me love a place I didn't feel right in at first and you-- you are good and kind and everything wonderful about this town." You've kept your eyes on your hands clenched tight in your lap but you look up at him then. His gaze is steady, brows furrowed. "And I...god, Steve. I don't want this to sound like I'm guilting you or anything because it's only been a few months but that night I realized that I'm falling in love with you and it's scaring the shit out of me."

You're looking at him as you say it, so you see that he doesn't react even a little bit. It makes your chest tighten, but you push that down. It's not about if he loves you or not. It's about apologizing.

"I understand how that's scary," he says carefully. His own hands are shoved in his pockets. You wonder if he's clenched them into fists. "I just don't know why you'd leave instead of telling me how you were feeling."

"I wish I could take that back."

He looks away again. "Do you regret everything else, too? Having sex? Everything before?"

"God, no," you breathe out. "No, Steve. I don't regret any of that." You want to touch him but you know you shouldn't. It wouldn't help anything.

"Do you get why you leaving like that hurt?" he asks. "Why the last thing I expected to come back to was an empty bed?" You chew on your lip as he keeps talking. "Because I thought we had figured that out. The whole...not talking to each other bullshit. Dealing with our emotions unfairly, being too hasty and hurtful. You helped me learn how to do that and I tried for you."

There's nothing to say. Other than the truth. "I know, and I'm sorry," you tell him. "I freaked out and I hurt you and that was the last thing I wanted to do. And I understand if you can't forgive me--"

"I didn't say that," he interrupts, tone a hair from desperate. The first real emotion you've heard from him other than frustration. "I just need some space, I think. Okay?" He lifts his hand in the air and it seems to hover in the space between you before he brushes his knuckles against your cheek. You inhale raggedly.

"Okay," you say. He smiles but it's sad and climbs out of your truck and back into his, driving into the night with a little wave.

You sit in silence for a few seconds before hot tears trickle down your cheeks. But this time, they're of relief. Because he doesn't hate you. Because he might forgive you, someday. Your chest aches but just for a moment, you let yourself feel all of it: the overwhelming sensation of being in love with Steve. It washes over you and all you want is for him to be happy.

Maybe when you tell him you're going to stay in Hawkins he'll even be glad about it. He cares about you, no one can deny that. And maybe, maybe he can love you.

___

After you talk with Steve you allow yourself to lean into preparing for the last market. You barely leave the farm because you make as many candles and soaps as you can. You wander into the farmhouse after finishing your latest batch of candles -- Steve's candles, as you call them in your head -- to find a fairly large size wicker basket on the counter.

"What's this?" you ask Bob. He's tying string onto honey jars.

"I was hoping you could tell me," he smiles. The basket contains an odd collection of stuff, all from local businesses. A small bouquet from Byers Flowers, a bag of mushrooms from Rick's, some jam from Sara's. A tiny pumpkin with a face drawn on it and even one of your own candles.

"Lucas Sinclair and Will Byers biked that over and dropped it off. Said it was for you." He points to the card you'd missed before that's nestled behind. the flowers.

We hope this humble offering helps convince you to stay in Hawkins!

It's written in a steady hand you know to be Will's and signed by every kid individually: Will, Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and El.

"Wow," you whisper. "I guess the rumor mill has started."

"I've heard that you might be leaving," Bob says. "Not sure where that came from." Robin, you think. Your darling friend might have gotten ahead of herself. "We don't have to talk about it, but have you thought any more about what you want to do?"

You don't hesitate, eyes on the card in your hand. "I want to stay."

The final market is the busiest Saturday you've seen, even though it's practically freezing. The November chill worms its way under your three layers, hat, and gloves. You should have worn two pairs of pants. There is laughter and your candles fly off the stand. There's a stand of hot cider somewhere that smells delightful.

And the weirdest thing keeps happening. People keep stopping you to say that they don't want you to leave town, and then when you tell them you aren't going to, they're so relieved. You've had the same conversation with so many customers that you've lost count. It really is a small town, you think. Your small town.

"Hey!" Eddie bounds over to your stall as the market is about to end, curls shoved into a black beanie with a pom-pom on top. He looks to be wearing at least three flannels under his leather jacket. "I heard you're leaving?" He looks pretty down about it, too. "I'd have brought you some mushrooms but I know you don't like them."

"Where did everyone get this idea that I'm leaving?" you huff. "I only told Robin that was still trying to decide--" Eddie scrunches up his nose and grimaces. "Did she tell you I was leaving?"

"Welllll..." he drags out. "She might have hinted that she thought you were going to and I think the story got out somehow." Then he brightens. "So you're not leaving?"

You smile, allowing the happiness of your choice to fill you for just a second. "I'm sticking around," you tell him. He whoops far too loudly.

"Thank Christ," he says. "Otherwise we'd have to deal with a sad Harrington forever." You look at your feet. "Oh, come on," he says. "You haven't made up yet?"

"How do you know about that?" you mumble, eyes still on the ground.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says. "Anyone can tell just by looking at Steve that he's down as hell. And he won't tell anyone why."

"I--" You want to ask him more, ask him what he's talked to Steve about, ask him if he's seen Steve today since you haven't, but before you can Robin runs over.

"You're staying?" she pants. "I heard it from Vickie who heard it from Brenda who heard it from her mom who heard it from you. I thought you were going! I told people you were going!" The memory of you crying in her arms flashes in your mind. Maybe it's not so outrageous that she got the impression you wanted to leave Hawkins.

"Well, here I am," you say. "If you'll have me."

"Fuck yeah we'll have you," Robin cries, grabbing your hands over the stall counter. A few people shoot her dirty looks for her language but she doesn't notice. "Oh my god, we're going to have so much fun. You have to come visit me at school, and we'll do Friendsgiving, and New Year's Eve, and --"

She prattles on about all the things you're going to do, and you can't fight your smile. But there's a lingering barb in your chest because you still have to tell Steve. Have to see if he's forgiven you if he ever will. If he's okay with you sticking around, regardless.

You want to ask Robin about him but you don't. He'll come to you if he wants to since he's the one who wants space and you want to respect that. But it would be nice to see him here, at the place where you met. The place where it all started.

So after your friends wander away with a bounce in their steps, you soak in the last moments of your last market for this year. Vendors wave at you on their way out and you pack up as slowly as you can, stretching out the task as long as possible. And to see if Steve will come say hi after all. He must have hid in the Sara's tent all morning.

You're careful with the candles, eyes on the fading line on your palm. The giddiness of that day in the rain with Steve is a fond memory, even if it makes the ache more profound. His smile, his laugh, his gentle hands. Hands you hope to hold again. The crates are all done and you take a deep breath and tell yourself you have to bring them to the truck when you feel a prickle on the back of your neck. You look up and --

There he is. He looks frazzled, no hat or gloves despite the cold, cheeks and nose pink, and hair a riot. He walks towards you with determined steps, stopping a few feet away.

"Hi," you breathe. "Hey, Steve," you say again, louder. It's like you willed him to come over here.

"Uh, hi," he says, dragging one hand through his hair and shoving the other into the pocket of his jacket. "Sorry I didn't come over earlier. It's been really busy today and -- well." He sucks on his teeth and looks at the sky. "Listen, I heard some stuff today and I don't know what's true and I know I asked for space but I had to come ask you because --" He takes a breath. It's unlike him to ramble like this, you think. It's endearing. "Are you staying in Hawkins or are you leaving?" he asks.

You blink. "Oh," you say. The rumors must have gotten to him and Robin hasn't set him right yet. "Yeah, that. Uh, well, first I just want to say I'm sorry again and I hope that the space is good for you." You clear your throat, swallowing the lump. "I want to fix things between us, whatever that looks like, but only if you want to. And I don't want to rush you, but --"

Steve takes a step towards you and your voice stops working for a second, long enough for him to start talking again. "Sorry, but before you go on and tell me you're leaving I just...please don't let it be because of me." He takes a hand from his pocket like he wants to reach for you but balls it into a fist instead. "If you want to leave I don't want to stop you because you have to do what's right for you and I know I asked for space but I don't think I want that and I should have just told you before." He takes a deep breath.

"Told me what, Steve?" you ask so softly you don't know if he hears you. He runs his hands through his hair again. He takes another step forward, so close that the tips of your shoes almost touch. His eyes are warm and bright when they meet yours.

"I'm in love with you. I love you. I don't know if you meant it by the lake and that's okay but I mean it now. It's soon and it's scary and I don't know what to do about it or where it'll take us but I just have to tell you so you know because...you can't leave without at least knowing that I do. You can't leave thinking I won't forgive you." He laughs a little to himself and takes half a step back. "And we need to work on our communication, especially if you leave, but I just want you whatever way I can have you--"

"Steve," you croak. It feels like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. He loves you.

He blinks a few times, shoving his hands back into his pockets. "Oh, sorry," he says. "Keep going with what you were saying."

Your thoughts are gibberish inside your head. All you can think is how badly you want to hold this boy in front of you. "Steve," you say again. He looks more worried this time, but before he can say anything you throw yourself at him, arms around his neck and chin hooked over his shoulder. He's quick to pull his hands out of his coat to wrap his arms around you and you feel his cold nose on the skin of your neck.

"I'm staying," you say into his shoulder. "I'm not leaving."

He pulls away just enough to see you, noses almost touching. "Did I hear that right? You're staying?"

"Yeah," you nod. "I want to stay. I love this town and the people in it and it's home now. And I, uh, want to figure us out. If you want to." You are embarrassed to feel your lashes grow wet. Steve brings his hands between you and blows on them before he gently frames your face.

"Did you think I'd not want to?" His thumbs stroke your cheeks. "I can say that whole speech again."

"No," you say, leaning into his palms. "I did think maybe you'd tell me not to stay. When we were at the lake. So I didn't bring it up." His face does something funny before he touches his forehead to yours.

"I will never tell you to go because I want you here, wherever here is. I just want you with me." You want to pull him into your chest, to show him how your heart has his name on it.

"I still don't know what I want, Steve," you whisper. "I want to stay here but I don't know how long that'll last. I'm not sure of anything but I'm sure about you. I'm sure that I love you."

"We can figure it out," he says, mouth curling into a smile. His eyes shine bright at your words. You both know that you have a lot of work to do -- learning how to communicate better, how to love each other right, how to deal with your own wounds and insecurities and feelings. There is growing to do. But you can do it together.

"Okay," you nod. Your noses brush. Maybe it is that easy. Just deciding what you want and seeing it in front of you and taking it. Calling it yours, holding it close. All of the hard stuff has led to this and maybe it was all worth it to get to this point -- the fighting and the misunderstandings and all of the kisses and the ache in your chest that you now know is just love. It's love with all its aches and pains and it's worth it.

"Can we kiss now, please?" he asks you. His breath is hot on your skin, visible in the space between you.

"Yes, please."

The press of his lips to yours is delicate, soft. It's loving. His thumbs stroke your face lazily and you grab his forearms gently, feeling the strength and the warmth of him through his layers. All Steve, you think. All yours. It's like he's thinking the same thing because his mouth curls into a smile against yours and you're not so much kissing as grinning against each other but it's exactly what you want. It's Steve. It's home.

THE END.

tags: @cheerupbarry @srrybutno @97soroka @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee @sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete @lonelywidow @actual-mom-steve-harrington @steveharringtonscarkeys @pennyllanne @ducky-is-dead-inside @ih3artcry1ng @escape-in-time-x @sea040561 @manyfandomsfanvergent @blandyton @liberhoe @annaisweird @mrs-dr-reid @toomanyacorns @darlingoctober @selfdeprecatingnerd @dullsocietyy @keep-drivng @shireentapestry @mintfrostflower @freezaz123 @dahliamae @localbnbg @palmtreesx3 @eddiethesexy

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fakegingerrights · 11 months

Text

Walk by Faith (1)

[Crosshair x Medic!reader. TW for nonsexual nudity and showering, medical procedures, blindness, seizures, angst, mentions of self harm and suicide.]

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“They call themselves: The Bad Batch.”

Crosshair panted, too bright, always too bright. Too cold hands of a kaminoan, their distinct medical smell and rubbery skin grabbing at his face to pry his eyelids open.

Crosshair screamed.

“A group of clones with ‘desirable mutations.’”

He wasn’t alone, of course. Hunter hated the lights too, his heightened senses making laboratory settings living hell for him. Tech’s constant testing for recall speed and IQ and the sheer amount of information crammed into his head often left him mumbling for hours, unable to think enough to remember his own name. Wrecker spent his nights in agony, growing pain was bad for all of them but his was worse, often spending nights in a drugged sleep to keep him from screaming as his limbs stretched and muscles tightened.

Now he sat in darkness. Alone. Not surrounded by the familiar groans and sighs of his brothers, alone in their own misery but at least present.

“Clone force 99 has been listed as traitors to the empire. Shoot to kill.”

Crosshair never missed. Never. But standing across from his brothers on that platform, watching as Hunter dragged Omega onto the Marauder, and he couldn’t do it.

It’s what got him to where he was now.

“CT-9904?” The new medic wasn’t a clone. The voice was feminine, but the thick bandages over his eyes prevented him from seeing your face. “I’m your assigned optician. I’m here to check how your eyes are accepting the new artificial lenses?”

There’s the sound of footsteps approaching. Crosshair didn’t have ears as good as Hunter, but he had spend enough time blind folded to have a good grasp on using his ears to the fullest.

“I’m going to touch your face now, please try to hold still.” You warned him. Crosshair went stone still, barely even breathing as soft hands brushed his face, deftly undoing the bandages that covered his eyes. He blinked, trying to clear his vision as his heart leapt into his throat.

“You’re doing this in the dark?” He asked, his voice hoarse, even though he already knew the answer.

“No. Until we’re sure your eyes have adjusted to the lenses, you’re on neural blockers to prevent you from consciously using your eyes. it wouldn't be anything more than a blurry mess anyways until they've settled. It should only be a day or two” You explained, a hand coming up to cup his cheek, thumb resting on the bottom of his tattoo, a slight warmth signifying a handheld light flitting across your face. “That’s quite the spot for a tattoo. The work on the eyelid is done well.” You remarked. Crosshair gritted his teeth. As glad as he was to not have a kaminoan working on him, natborns always talked too much.

“Tech did it.” He ground out. You hummed, pulling back sore eyelids to look under them.

“Tech?”

“CT-9902.” He spat the number out.

“Ah, I saw his file briefly. They contacted me to work on his goggles. Now hold still.” You commanded firmly, and Crosshair again went still as something itchy brushed across the surface of his actual eye, then the other one. “You have a name?”

“Crosshair.” Cross gritted out again. The new medic was getting on his nerves, but a small part of him was grateful. Since his squad decided to betray their empire, he hadn’t spoken this much to anyone in weeks.

“Oh! Like your tattoo?” There’s the sound of a tube opening.

“Yes, like the tattoo.”

“That’s really neat. I have a similar one, kinda. A replica of the scope’s readout from my father’s hunting rifle between my shoulder blades. He taught me to shoot with that blaster. Right, I’m going to apply some bacta to your inner eyelids, and then we’ll have to wait until it’s settled before I can apply eyedrops to counteract the dryness it will cause.” You chattered on, Crosshair barely listening. He stared at nothing, not even blinking until you told him he could. The bacta burned something awful, and tears ran tracks down his cheeks as he fought not to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, sorry about the sting, you know, we aught to really come up with something better than bacta, we kinda just use it as a cure all but-“

“Do you ever stop talking?” Crosshair’s annoyance got the best of him and he snapped, glaring in your direction through sightless eyes.

“Eh, I’ve been told I’m quite the chatter box.” You retort. “Right, gonna touch your face again.”

He grimaced as you leaned back into his personal space, so close he could smell your faint perfume as you tipped his head back and administered numbing eyedrops to ease the burning once the bacta had set long enough.

“How long until my sight returns?” He asked, turning his face upwards and blinking to help the eyedrops settle in.

“About a week, give or take a day.” You answered. “The Kaminoans, idiots, wouldn’t let me perform the surgery, and have declared I’m to be your nurse until your eyes have healed. Do I look- wait, no.” Crosshair glared in your direction. “Do I sound like a nurse to you? I’m an optometrist specializing in artificial lenses and improvements! Not that yours could be improved much. Your natural eyes are phenomenal. I’ve never seen more beautifully shaped retinas, and your pupil dexterity is amazing!”

“Yes yes, I get it. I’ve got good eyes.” Crosshair rolled his empty eyes. “Not what girls usually compliment me on, but I’ll take it.” He wasn’t sure why he kept indulging you in conversation. He’d rather be left alone to his own dark world.

“There aren’t many girls who know what to look for in a decent set if eyes.” You shot back, picking up the fresh set of bandages. Crosshair flinched when your knuckle brushed his temple.

“Sorry, I forgot to warn you. Just reapplying the bandages, then we can get you out of this wing and to your temporary outpatient accommodations.” He sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly with relief at getting out of the lab before he caught the rest of what you said.

“I’m not going to my barrack?” He asked. Crosshair didn’t need eyes to know you were wincing.

“Yeah… about that. The long necked idiots decided you needed around the clock monitoring before your sight returned. And decided, since they’re my lenses in your eyes, you should be put with me. In my quarters.”

Crosshair scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

“Unfortunately, Commander, you don’t get a choice. Do you have anything you need out of this room?” You say briskly, looking around.

“I’m not staying in-“

“Nothing you need then?”

“…” Even through the bandages, you can feel his glare as he chews his lip. “Do you have a toothpick?”

“In my quarters. Right, let’s get you up.” Hands grab his shoulder and help him out of the post-op gurney and to his feet. He sways slightly as he tries to find his balance without his eyes. “Whoah there, I gotcha.” The hands on his shoulders tightened. “Wow, you’re tall. Ok, do you want to take my shoulder or have me take your arm?”

Crosshair hated this. He wanted to scream and tear the cloth away from his eyes and rub them until they stopped itching and he could see and-

And it wouldn’t do anything but give him an infection. The voice in his head sounded painstakingly like Tech, who was always trying to help.

“Shoulder.” He gritted out after a moment. Soft hands that had just thoroughly tortured him with their medicine now took his hand and placed it on your shoulder. He fell into step beside you, letting you guide him into the hall and through the corridor.

“Your room is on the left past the kitchenette, I moved as much of the furniture as I could out of your way. Our rooms are connected by a shared refresher, too.” You chattered on as he followed you through the halls.

The darkness without his vision never failed to unsettle him. Kamino is always so bright, so blindingly white... even without vision the shadows felt out of place.

"Here we are." Your voice startled him out of his thoughts. "I'll drop you at your room and let you get settled from there. You won't be drilling while you recover but your armor and rifle is on the bed."

You set his hand against the doorframe into his room. "If there's an emergency shout and I'll be there."

Yeah, right.

The room was small, Crosshair was thankful for that. Less space for him to memorize. He sat down on the bed, taking a deep breath and fighting the urge to scratch at his eyes. He focused instead on mapping out the unfamiliar bunk. It was about the size of the one in his barrack, maybe a hair bigger. the most curious thing though was the dense, soft quilt that draped over it. It certainly wasn't anything from Kamino. On a hunch, he let a hand drift up to run a finger along the edge of the pillow.

Cotton. And thick. Not the thin cushion the kaminoans insisted on. It smelled off too, like fresh air and sunshine rather than bleach.

Had you... made up the bed for him?

Crosshair shook off the thought and all it entailed. There was a bedside desk of sorts, a datapad resting on it. Not that he would be able to do anything with it...

At the foot of the bed was his sniper rifle and armor, which he quickly checked over. Everything seemed to be in order.

Satisfied he could at least confidently navigate his temporary sleeping space, he kicked the quilt to the foot of the bed and curled up on the mattress, giving a quiet sigh of appreciation as he let himself sleep for the moment.

---

He awoke to a soft knock at the door, then the sound of it sliding open. Crosshair suppressed a twitch and focused on maintaining his breathing, staying as still as possible.

"Cross- oh." Your voice went from a casual tone to barely above a whisper. He feigned sleep and focused on listening to your footsteps as you padded across the room, pausing by the table.

There was the clatter of something... cutlery? And the faint smell of hot rations from the mess. Kriff, he must've slept longer than he meant if you were bringing in food already. He fought the urge to tense as he felt your presence close to him, then down by his feet where he had kicked the quilt. The sensation of the weight being pulled from the edge of the cott and the rustle of heavy fabric, he barely stifled a flinch as the blanket touched down over his shoulders first before coming to rest over the rest of him.

Then your footsteps retreated back towards the door, and he let himself relax a little more.

"I know you're awake, Crosshair. Food's on the desk if you're hungry. Double portion, to help you make up the weight you've lost the last few weeks." Your tone was still soft, and slightly... amused? Were you laughing at him? "The overhead lights are off but the desklamp is on. I'm out here if you need anything."

The door slid shut again. The quilt was heavy, but deceptively cool against his exposed skin, the white shirt and loose pants of the medical ward suddenly left him feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Crosshair huffed a long sigh, sitting up and folding his knees up against his chest. He started with his ankles, slowly and methodically going through and cracking every joint all the way up to his neck then down his arms, stretching as he goes and enjoying the sensation of his muscles relaxing. He trailed one of his hands up against the smooth surface of the desk until he bumped the tray, then feeling around the edges for the warmth of where the rations would be.

Satisfied with the layout of his trey he moved to eat over the desk. As he did so, he also found a glass of water and a hefty box of toothpicks.

He picked at the food, getting barely halfway through before he pushed it away, downing the water and settling back on his bed to chew on a toothpick in sullen silence. His eyes ached. It wasn't a new sensation, but it was much more annoying. Especially that he was now left alone in the dark instead of having his squad around him to distract him.

Crosshair shook his head. That line of thought never ended well recently. He opted instead to grab his tray and glass and slip into the shared living space, setting them carefully in the sink and rinsing them over. There's the chatter of noise... a holo drama of some kind? And your voice from behind him and to his left, against the far wall.

"You know, you can change out of those awful medical uniforms if you want to." You called. Crosshair grunted.

"Don't have anything else. It's this or my blacks." He shot back, wincing at how gravely his voice sounded.

"Really? Nothing else?"

He rolled his eyes behind closed lids on impulse, then winced at the stinging feeling of the motion. "That's what I said, isn't it?"

"Sorry. That just seems a little spartan, though. Even for- well."

"A clone?" He drawled the word out. "We're property. Property can't own property, so we have enough to keep us from running around naked."

"Now that would be a sight. Kaminoans would be under a lot of heat for it though, since then there'd be no doubt about your humanity." There's a clatter of you setting something down, a datapad, probably. "Actually, scrap that. They'd just use it as more marketing. Do you want me to make a few calls, get you something else to wear?"

"That is... unnecessary. These are fine." Other clothes would be nice, Crosshair mused. He hated how much he sounded like Tech in that moment, but really, these would do just fine. He was a weapon for the Repub- Empire. He got what was given to him and didn't ask for more.

His momentary confusion sent a jolt of pain through the side of his head, he pressed a palm to it with a wince. Everything seemed to fizzle around him before snapping back to it's usual feeling. Dimly, he heard your voice talking to him.

"-Hair? Crosshair, are you alright?" Fingertips grazed his cheek just below the bandages. His hand snapped up to close around your wrist in a bone crushing grip. Kriff, when had you gotten close enough to touch him? "Ow, owowowow, ok, Buddy, you gotta let me go here. Take a breath." Your other hand came up to pry at his fingers. He took a shuddering breath and slowly released his death grip, his hand slipping away to hang limp at his side.

You mumble a few nasty curses that made his eyebrows raise slightly below the bandages, pulling away to presumably rub at your sore wrist.

"Warn me before you go grabbin me." He ground out in lieu of an apology, moving to push past you. You stopped him with your good hand on his chest.

"I did. You didn't hear me. Come sit down, I need to check your vitals." Your tone was stern, and he sighed knowing he wasn't gonna be able to get out of this one. He ground down on his toothpick as you took his elbow and lead him over to what felt like a low sofa, pushing him down onto it. If he had his eyes uncovered, he'd be glaring daggers.

"I thought you weren't a nurse." He bit the words out. You give him a snort in return.

"I'm not. But I am your around the clock care for now. Wanna tell me what that was? Gonna check your blood pressure, can I have your non-dominant arm?"

Crosshair held out his right arm, and you tapped his hand twice to warn him before moving to slip the cuff around his arm, taking care to maintain some form of contact so you didn't startle him again. "Just a lapse in attention." He lied through his teeth.

"Crosshair." Your tone was tired, borderline scolding him.

"It's a recurring headache. I've had it since the Reformation." he ground out. "It's on the side of my head, up high. Bleeds down into a migraine above my right eye."

"I'm gonna do a bloodcheck. Can I have your little finger? Little poke." He held out his hand as you slipped the blood pressure cuff off. He hissed as the needle lanced into his skin and out, taking a fair amount of blood [and actual flesh] with it. "Right, while that processes, we're gonna go to the refresher and get you cleaned up."

"My inability to see doesn't mean I can't bathe myself just fine." Crosshair hissed.

"You can do your body on your own just fine, but I need to get your eyes for you. We don't want to risk infection and you got some blood and crusties that would probably feel much better gone." You tap his elbow and pull him to his feet. "And while you're bathing, no shower. Bath only, keep the water away from your face and eyes, no soap-"

"I know post op care, Doc. Not my first time under the long neck's knife." Cross ground out.

"-And I'll leave you to do that while I track down some proper clothes for you." You finished, taking him through his room into the refresher. "Edge of the tub is behind you. Gonna have you sit on the floor in front of it and lean over it, ok? I'm gonna have my hands all over your face and head, so I'd appreciate it if you don't grab me again." He felt with his foot until his heel found the tub and lowered himself to the floor with a sigh. The tub was partially sunken into the ground, so the lip was fairly close to the floor. It was a little awkward at first as he slowly slid down until he was resting mostly laying on the ground with his head on the edge of the tub.

"Mk, right next to you, Crosshair." You said, tapping his shoulder lightly. "Let's get another look under these wraps, ok? I'll be gentle." As if you'd risk being anything else. Wouldn't want to damage the Empire's perfect weapon. He focused on breathing as you slowly unwound the strips from his face, blinking away the gritty feeling of his eyelids finally being able to move freely. He squinted through puffy eyelids into the darkness on instinct, trying to search for even a whisper of change or movement. "Ah, careful now. Nothing to see, remember? Do you want your eyedrops now or later?"

"Later." He grunted, to a small chuckle from you. He glared in your direction, but you paid him no mind.

"Lift your head for me?"

He did so, and he heard the slide of coarse fabric against ceramic as you slid a folded up towel under his neck and shoulders so they weren't digging into the smooth surface of the tub. He always hated this part.

The sound of the spigot being opened made him flinch, and he could feel flecks of water hitting the back of his head as the sound of a bottle being filled hit his ears. He gritted his teeth, waiting.

"Ok, bear with me now, gonna be up in your face for a bit." You warned, turning the faucet off again. Crosshair grunted an acknowledgement, bracing himself. Your off hand, the one he'd grabbed, he noted, slid under the base of his skull to better support his head as a damp microfiber cloth was dabbed at the disgusting mess of bacta, mucus, blood, and who knows what else that had gathered in the innermost corner and under his eyes, slowly breaking apart the mess with as little pressure as possible.

Crosshair swallowed, his pulse ticking up slightly before he remembered to go back to focusing on his breathing as you worked your way outwards, into the edges of his eyes. Memories flitted to the surface of his mind, of his eyes being rinsed out with something like a power washer as a cadet whenever he got another eye infection and the itchy, blurry vision he always had after another round of testing, debating on whether or not he was good enough or if he needed more improvement. Blinding white alternating with terrifying darkness, he hated not being able to see.

"Crosshair?" Your voice was soft, right next to his ear. It pulled him out of the painful memories as he realized you were no longer working on his eyes. "Is everything alright?"

"Situation Normal." His voice was raspier than he would have liked, sound just a bit too choked to be 'fine.'

"Alright. The worst of it's over, ok? Everything is looking good." There was the click of a soap bottle, and he tensed up again as the faucet was turned back on. His breathing, which he had done well at keeping metronome-steady up until this moment, caught slightly as something cold touched his scalp and the hand behind his head carefully pulled away.

"What're you doing?" He growled.

"Washing your hair. You'll feel better once it's done, trust me." Your voice had lost it's worried note, amusement creeping in as you begin to work the shampoo into his close cropped hair, gently scrubbing away at layers of built up sweat and dander at the edges of his hairline. "There you go, relax. I'm not going to hurt you, Commander."

Crosshair did his best, closing his eyes. It might've been your imagination, but he seemed to be leaning into your touch ever so slightly.

You switched to a small tipped squirt bottle you had filled earlier and began gently rinsing away the suds, a hand coming up to make sure none got close to his eyes. He shifted against the towel under him, listening to the still running faucet as you washed the last of the soap away, close cut nails still scratching at his scalp.

Just for a moment, he let himself drift. Just for a moment, the hands in his hair were stronger. Rougher, calluses from a knife dragging against his curls, murmuring in Mando’a in his ear-

Then you pulled away, and the illusion broke.

“I’m going to go grab you some clothes, okay? The tub is full and the water is warm. Oh, hold on.” You pull away and pause as he makes the tiniest sound in the back of his throat, then covers it with a dry cough. It almost feels like you imagined it, and not sure what to do, you ignore it.

Crosshair waits with bated breath, but slowly relaxes as you don’t seem to notice his slip up. Stupid of him, getting lost in the past.

“Ok, I’ve got an elastic cover here, just gonna slip it over your eyes so you don’t get water in them. You can take it off when you get out, but I’d like you to at least sleep with it on so you don’t rub in your sleep.” He immediately stiffens, waiting for the awful scratchy material to be pulled over his head-

Only for gentle hands to pull something soft and silky down over his eyes, barely a weight. He lets out the breath he’d been holding as you fuss with it for a second, making sure it won’t slip off.

“Ok. All good, Commander?”

“All good, Doc.” His answer is immediate. Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and he suppresses a flinch.

“Ok, you can come out whenever you’re done. I’ll bring you some proper clothes.” And then he was alone in the dark once more.

Slowly, methodically, he shrugged out of the thin white shirt and loose pants before stepping down into the tub, hissing slightly at the hot water. The burn felt good though, as he eased himself down to sit in a ball in the corner of the tub.

It was a much longer bath than Crosshair had ever had, letting the hot water be a distraction from his own mind as he methodically soaped up and rinsed enough that the water must be cloudy. He couldn’t shake the feeling of dirt, of the sensation of it caked into his skin and under his nails and-

That’s enough of a bath today. He opened the drain and listened to the water swirling down, a rap at the door catching his attention.

“What do you want?” The words are harsher than he means, but he can’t bring himself to feel too bad about them.

“Clothes, not that maker-forsaken medical uniform. I’m not looking, just gonna set them on the counter.”

The door slid open and you shuffled in, your footsteps slow and hesitant as you blindly reached for the counter, setting the stack down before retreated.

Ha, modesty around a clone.

Crosshair grabs the towel that was folded behind him earlier and dried off, gingerly patting around his hair before searching out whatever you had brought. His fingers came in contact with soft polymer and heavy cotton as he found the teeshirt and sweats you had left for him, sliding into them with a shiver.

These weren’t clone clothes. These were the expensive sleepwear they reserved for natborns. They smelled of expensive detergent rather than the bleach based mess that was used for clones, turning what little clothes they had scratchy and awful to touch.

He padded out through his room and into the main living area, taking off the soft eyewrap while he did so and made his way to the sofa. His foot found it before he did and he swore, much to amusement of you already on the sofa.

“Do you want a hand?” You asked, a smile in your tone. Crosshair sat down with a glare and a rude gesture in your direction.

“Eyedrops?” He asked.

“Oh! Yeah, we should do that now. Stay there.” He felt the sofa shift as you stood up, collecting what sounded like a bag from the other side of the room and returning to your seat.

“Got them. Ok, hold still, try not to flinch.” You instructed, tapping his shoulder twice to prepare him as you tilted his head up. He went stone still, breathing slowing to barely a gasp as a thumb swept sore eyelids up, he fought the urge to blink as two drops splashed into each eye.

“Ok, ok easy.” The hand released his chin and your presence retreated. “Take a breath, Crosshair. You’re trembling.”

Crosshair took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and keeping his head leaned back against the back of the couch as he closed his eyes.

“M’fine.” He grunted. “Hate these.”

You snorted softly, patting his knee sympathetically. Even through the heavy material of his sweats, he felt the odd shape of a bandaged hand. He frowned slightly, that hadn’t been there before.

“Yeah, they’re not pleasant.” You agree, settling back. “You’re not supposed to use a datapad but do you want to listen to a book or something?”

Crosshair just grunted. “What’ja do to your hand?” He asked.

“My…. Oh. You did that, actually. When you grabbed me earlier. It’s just a bruise, nothing too bad.” You shrug off the concern as Crosshair shifts to get more comfortable.

“You should have warned me-“

“I did, Commander. You were too out of it to notice. Speaking of which, your blood results came back. When did you get electrocuted?”

The question took Crosshair by surprise.

“I haven’t been.” He forgot to sound angry at the question. You gave a small ‘huh.’

“You have a lot of ionized carbon in your bloodstream, from either a massive jolt or long term low level shocks.” You reported.

“I’m a mutant. Gonna have weird blood.” He mumbled back.

“Not like this.” You huffed. “It doesn’t match previous levels of your blood samples.”

Crosshair blinked the eyedrops away again, feeling the grittiness diminish for a moment.

“They took me. After we came back from our last mission with a jedi. They kept me from my brothers. I don’t remember what happened much after that.” The words felt… strange, to admit them aloud. A bolt of pain shot through his head, making him gasp slightly as a hand shot up to the side of his head. It was a lot worse than it had been in a while.

Flashes and echos of memory assaulted him, Hunter’s cold glare, Tech’s sneering face, Wrecker’s rage and Echo’s snide pity as they abandoned him on that platform. The roar of the jets as they betrayed the Empire, betrayed him.

Hunter opening his mouth to shout-

“Crosshair? Commander Crosshair.” His eldest brother’s voice came out panicked and feminine, not a clone’s voice. Crosshair was yanked out of memory, the haze of pain lifting slightly. Soft hands, gentle hands, scraping over his hair, massaging the cramping muscles in his hands as tremors wracked his whole body.

He was vaguely aware he was laying against someone, his head under a chin and legs bracketing his thighs to keep him from thrashing as he struggled to remember how to breathe.

“Crosshair, can you hear me?” The voice came from behind him, rumbling through him like a jolt of clear water. He managed a rough nod. “Good. I want you to try and match my breathing. In for 8, hold for 5, out for 8.”

You slowed your breathing down, counting softly. It took him a few seconds but he managed, pants turning into shaky but even breaths.

“‘Appened?” Crosshair slurred, not even trying to fight even as he realized it it wasn’t a brother under him but a doctor.

“You had another episode. This one was a lot worse. You were screaming and thrashing and-“ You had to take a breath, calm yourself before you startled him worse. “Can you describe to me how you’re feeling?”

Crosshair groaned softly, your hands returned to his close cropped silver curls and resumed combing through them.

“Head hurts… confused…” He closed his sightless eyes, relaxing into your touch.

“Yeah? Can you tell me where you are?”

Crosshair was silent for a long time. “Temp medical housing.” His voice was stronger.

“Good. Anything weird you’re seeing?”

“Doc, I’m blind for another day or so. Lemme up.” His attitude was the next to return, pulling your arms off of him and sitting up, palming his head and going to rub his eyes before stopping himself. The couch shifted under him as you moved.

“Careful. Careful. I’m going to go grab you a painkiller and something to drink.”

He grunted an acknowledgement, listening to you clatter around the kitchenette while he massages at his temples in an effort to release the tension prickling at his scalp.

“Hey.” He jumped as your voice came from a lot closer than he was expecting, and winced slightly at your instant step back incase you needed to avoid a blow. “Hey. Still with me?” Your voice was softer the next time. Crosshair nodded. “Alright. I’ve got a painkiller, but it’s gonna make you sleepy, ok? And water. You’re dehydrated.”

A cup was pressed into his hands and he took a drink before tilting his head to the side and exposing his neck.

“Good, you already know the drill. Ok, I’m right next to you, little pinch.”

It was not a little pinch, it never was. It hurt. But it was quickly replaced by the feeling of lead in his veins as a weight settled over him. He took another drink of the water before setting it down, not having the energy to fight it.

Crosshair tried to get to his feet, but his balance was a skewed mess. A hand slid under his shoulders to steady him as the world rocked wildly.

“You wanna sleep out here or in your room, decide fast.” Your voice was a gentle murmur in his ear.

“Second.” He gritted out, accepting your help with annoyed resignation as you half carried him to his room and set him down on his bunk.

“Get some rest, Commander. You’ve done so well today.” Your voice echoes like it’s from a long ways off. He falls back against the pillow, and the quilt is settled over him. He’s asleep before he can even curl up properly

---

“One day, Cross, we’re gonna be proper Commandos. No more labs for us.” Hunter’s voice is right by his head, whisper soft.

“Me too?” Wrecker, six years old and already almost as tall as the trainers. “And Tech?” Tech had been the one for testing that day, he was snoring away tucked against Wrecker’s side.

“All of us.” Hunter promised. “We’re gonna be free of testing and together fighting tinnies and living free.”

Crosshair just rolled over. Wishful thinking, at best.

[A/N: Whew! This is kinda awkward to break into chapters, but I'm trying. I've decided to release it chapter by chapter and then publish the master when I'm done so everyone is happy, got it? Taglist:

@rinwritesfics @endo-bunny @renon4224 @tecker ]

#soft crosshair #the bad batch #clone wars #star wars #the clone wars #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #yeah for this fic I kinda just #drop him in a salad spinner and give it a good few whirls #he's also a little ooc but I have the urge to give him a hug and as the author I will make him ACCEPT the hug #:D #GingerWrites

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lightwise · 1 month

Text

TBB S3E7 Reactions

Alright, in lieu of an analysis this week, you guys get some extra long reactions from me. Spoilers for Extraction under the cut!

- Of course the operative is still alive after being completely buried by rocks

- You okay there Rexy boy?

- Aww, Crosshair helping him up

- “There’s always another way” feels like foreshadowing

- CX does sound awfully like Tech when he’s grunting. Either that or DBB has only one way of making groaning noises 😂

- The rim lighting in this episode is such a pain for making screenshots but so satisfying for watching

- The modified clone theme when Wolffe lands 😭

- Wolffe was really getting 3PO flashbacks there with that disgusted sigh

- Isn’t Hilo a canon commando?? Or is he from legends?

- I will never get over how realistic light looks in this show

- There’s no way that CX just caught himself with his hands

- “We’re waiting on you” they’re not leaving Crosshair behind this time 🥹

- Lol Batcher. Licking cute clones faces. Always the priority

- How is this CX such a good shot??

- Oh Wolffe definitely has a constant headache. Idk how he’s actually put up with being in the Empire this long.

- This purple atmosphere is so pretty

- “I’m much worse” — SCREAMING. And the little tilt with his helmet to make his point clear? This man can have me however he wants. Anytime, anywhere. Call me, baby (I hope someone laughed at that lol)

- So Hunter does hear the ships. I wonder if his senses are more tuned for mechanical vibrations and animal life than people

- Lol Howzer is this really the time for a heart to heart?

- “Loyalty meant something to me” 🫡

- Lol that TK Trooper sounded like a mid-Atlantic 50s movie star

- How is the operative this nimble? Seems suspicious

- Smoke bombs are CF99s signature

- Interesting that for once the stun bolts are being used ON the Batch instead of by them.

- Wrecker and Batcher are a great team

- Hunter just dropping that TK and then Crosshair taking out their ship. Phew

- Also not suspicious at all that they’ve neutralized all the TKs and left the clone troopers for later.

- How did Crosshair sense the operative coming up behind them?

- RIP Nemec 😓

- “Too bad” 😩😩😩

- Oh Cross, you know you’re not the best at hand to hand combat. This is a very bad idea

- That waterfall is pretty though

- Dear lord why did they have to make these scenes so dark

- Oh fuck. I can’t even tell who threw who off the cliff

- The whole squad going after Crosshair even though he told them to get to the extraction point 😭

- CX obviously knows Crosshair and has beef with him. Again, for the millionth time—WHAT THE HELL DID HEMLOCK DO TO ALL OF THEM

- “You had your chance to be one of us. You chose the wrong side”. Really can’t wait for this to be explained.

- Crosshair’s reflexes are so fast for being all gangly limbs

- Okay I seriously almost had a heart attack here (this is a rewatch so my reactions aren’t immediate but holy cow I almost couldn’t believe what I was seeing watching Crosshair almost drown. Don’t you dare do it Jen!)

- It is v suspicious how fixated on Crosshair CX is even after he’s neutralized him

- Thank GOD for Howzer

- Okay, I can breathe a little again

- That’s…an awfully long fall for someone to survive

- The TBB team took the water scenes from The Crossing in season 2 and said, yeah, how about we just make that a million times better 🤯

- “That’s not Echo”. No, no it is not

- Good to know that Rex is still considered dead by the Empire (although that honestly seems strange that CX in season 2 knew who he was). That’s heartbreaking that Wolffe thought he was dead this whole time though

- Wow. The respect these two men have for each other

- “Oh I did. Lost a lot of good men that day” *cries in TCW season 7*

- Idk how Rex keeps going honestly

- His voice may be gentle but his face means BUSINESS

- Rex 🤝 Omega - believing the power of friendship can save anyone and anything they come across

- Fuck your orders Wolffe

- “I’ll make sure you’re given a fair trial” you really have no idea who you work for Wolffe do you

- Hunter being willing to stand down when Rex asks him to

- “I know you. As your brother, I’m asking you to do the right thing” the brotherly reunions this season are just paralleling all over the place

- Gregor the handsome fellow that you are. I swear his pauldrons get bigger every time we see him

- “Let my people go” the Exodus vibes are strong here too

- Guess we’re gonna be finding out what makes this CX so special. Still can’t believe he survived.

- Rex just lost almost all of his men again 😣😭

- The sheer respect and care that Hunter and Rex have for each other. The hand on the shoulder. The losses that tie them together. The worry and earnestness in Hunter’s face and tone when he tells Rex he can’t win. He doesn’t emote this much to people he doesn’t consider family.

- The ways Hunter still is hesitant to do anything but run and hide, and Rex still can’t give up. Not quite yet.

- How Hunter won’t be able to either until they know what is really going on with Omega.

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #tbb season 3 #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #the bad batch season 3

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ghouljams · 10 months

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Just a couple of curios questions.

1) Would you be able to go more into how the tethers work? Is there more than one way to 'use' them? Other than making everyone feral lol.

2) Court lore? Where does everyone land regarding their standing with the court? What are some of these unabided rules?

Yeah of course! Tethers are easy, but the court stuff I'll put under the cut since you asked about where everyone stands and I want to talk about court politics.

So the tethers respond to emotions. They work as a sort of bridge between the people they connect, the more tethers the stronger the connection and so on. But they really only tend to send these feelings when they're "pulled" or played with. There's a lot of different ways they could be used though. You could pull on them to ease anxiety or spark anger, if you need your fae on your side you can try to sway their emotions through the tethers.

Mostly pulling on tethers just makes people feral because that's all any of them are thinking about. Liebling pulled on König's tethers and because all he ever thinks about is fucking her the tethers pulled real hard on those desires, which Liebling just reflected back 10x and just made the tethers pulling worse.

As for the Court, they're the major players within the fae wild. The ones that hold the most debts or the most important ones. They can't actually make rules, fae rules in this au are more based around manners and literalisms in speech. That doesn't mean the Court doesn't hold power, I think the court is sort of final decider on quarrels and debts and they make some laws for ease within society but it's not like they can really enforce them.

As for everyone's positions, we'll go by power in court, here's where I think the Fae boys land:

Price: high Court, he holds heavy and important debts to a lot of people. More importantly the people that are tied to him are absolutely loyal and the Court doesn't want to deal with the 141 showing up to wreck their shit. He's a Winter representative and does his best to make sure there's a good balance of power between the seasons, but generally he doesn't really care for politics. He only goes to court to be seen and scare the rest of the fae, he keeps them on their toes.

König: he would hold more power in court but he almost never shows up to meetings. He's not actually in court due to holding debts he's there because he's a threat to the court. König is a very dangerous fae and one that can't no one in the Court has been able to control so keeping him on the Court is a way to keep an eye on him. They use him as an attack dog occasionally but he finds it insulting and will show up to meetings just to stare them down and let everyone know he will eat them if the tomfoolery continues. Price thinks he's funny.

Gaz: he holds a lot of debts but most of them are human and most of them have been paid or are in the process of being paid. He's a moderate thorn in the Court's side because they can't pin him down. Gaz isn't about to listen to bureaucrats and Price isn't about to make him, so the Court tends to leave him to his own devices. Which is fine by Gaz, he likes being able to do him own thing and pop between seasons whenever he wants.

Soap: he doesn't give a shit about the Court. They don't have any leverage on him and he deals with humans mostly anyway. Soap avoids the Court for the most part, he doesn't really have any reason to interact with them. Soap is a pretty straight forward brand of fae and doesn't need court interference. He finds his darlings and eats them, no need to get the Court involved. That said he's absolutely loyal to Price and is kept up to date with Court happenings through Price's batching.

Ghost: so far removed from Court it's not even funny. Given the opportunity he would kill everyone on it and has had to be kept on a short leash by Price the few times he made appearances at Court. He is the fae's boogeyman and they would like him to stay as far away from Court as possible. Price is the only person who can control him, the Court stopped trying a long time ago. Ghost doesn't hold debts he holds grudges, arguably that's more dangerous to the Court.

Bonus Darlings: None of them hold positions in Court but they all could become thorns in the Court's side very easily. Being the lovers of powerful fae is a good position to be in. Especially when it's very clear that those fae will do anything for their Darling, and they mean anything.

#ghoul speaks #fae au #i like to think König ate an autumn representative and no one could tell him that wasnt how positions were given out

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triptuckers · 1 year

Text

enough grief for one lifetime - tech

Request: no Pairing: tech x reader Summary: once again you help the bad batch with their injuries Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE BAD BATCH S2E15+S2E16, angst, mentions of injuries, blood, broken bones, swearing Word count: 2.7K A/N: there I fixed it.

you told hunter you would always be one comm away. they appreciate your help, but most of the time they're too far away for you to be of any help. it's why they rarely call you.

it's also why you nearly trip over your feet as you sprint to answer them when they do comm you.

'y/n here.' you say.

for a few seconds, you hear nothing but static sounds on the other side. then you hear echo.

'...need your help... went bad... on our way...'

'echo?' you say. 'you're breaking up really bad. how far away are you?'

'...injured... going to... you... tech-'

you hear a faint beep as the comm suddenly ends.

you can feel your heart beating faster. something or someone disconnected the connection you had with the marauder. was it simply a bad connection or was someone jamming their comms? or worse?

and then there is the way echo said tech's name. you knew echo, he knows how to keep his cool in battle. but he said tech's name in a panicked tone.

you don't know how far out they are, but you start preparing straight away. you live on a hot planet, and most of the locals live in huts with a lot of big windows. you've helped most of the locals when they get injured, it's how you met the bad batch in the first place. they got stranded on your planet and sought medical attention.

after your first meeting with them, you always stocked up on medial supplies, just in case. it seemed today is the day you'll need most of them.

you've only just finished setting everything up, when one of the local kids runs into your house.

'y/n! there's a ship approaching!' he says.

you follow him outside and spot the marauder. they're coming in fast, and you anxiously watch as they land none too gently and a bit too close to the village.

as you run up to the marauder, wrecker emerges from the ship, his back to you. you frown and run a little harder. you reach the ship and see that wrecker is carrying one of his brothers.

you feel your heart stop as your eyes land on tech. wrecker has his arms hooked underneath his arms, and echo is carrying tech's legs.

it looks like tech's entire body is bruised and bloody. he looks unrecognisable. one of his eyes is swollen shut, his nose appears to be broken and his lip is cut. he's not even wearing his glasses.

you stand there, rooted to the spot. if he hadn't been wearing his signature armour, and if you hadn't committed his face to your memory, you wouldn't be able to tell it was tech at all.

of course you cared about all of them. even though you didn't see them that much. but it always had been different with tech. you'd never acted on your feelings. afraid of too many things. that it wouldn't work out and it would make things awkward between you, that he didn't feel the same way, that something would happen and that he would leave you behind.

it seems like you should have taken the chance while you still had it. now it might be too late.

you come back to your senses when you spot hunter. he's holding tech's broken glasses in his hands.

'get him to my place.' you tell wrecker. 'I've set everything up already.'

wrecker nods and heads toward your house. you turn to hunter.

'anyone else injured?' you say.

'I've got a few broken ribs. might be some internal bleeding but I can't be too sure. omega took a heavy hit, but at least she can walk for now. I'm sure she's got a pretty serious concussion. you need to look at wrecker's neck and shoulder. echo is fine, he wasn't with us when we fell down. but you need to see to tech first. he's the worst of us all right now.' hunter states.

you're grateful for hunter's quick facts. it helps put you in a concentrated mindset. tech first. then omega, hunter, and wrecker. echo could help you. tech first. tech first. tech...

you nod once at hunter, then take off running toward your house.

once you get inside, you see wrecker and echo have put tech on the makeshift medical cot. they've taken off some of his armour.

'move.' you say.

you may sound harsh, but wrecker and echo know it's because you're focused, and a little stressed. they do as you say so you can quickly assess tech.

he's unconscious, but at least he's still breathing.

your fingers trail over his body. you'd been right about his face, a black eye, broken nose, a cut lip. he doesn't appear to have any more damage to his head, which you take as a good sign. you thank the maker for tech's helmet.

after further assessment, you can tell he's dislocated his left shoulder, and he's broken his left arm. you feel along his ribs and feel a few broken ones, but miraculously he shows no sign of internal bleeding in his chest.

he's broken his left leg the same place you helped set right a while ago. it looks like he fell on his left side, because his left knee is also dislocated.

you straighten your back and look at wrecker and echo. hunter and omega have arrived as well, and omega is worriedly looking at tech.

'echo, you're going to be my assistant today. you do everything I say, understood?' you say, slipping back into the role of the village chief medic.

echo nods. 'yes ma'am.'

'I'll get started on tech. you're going to help wrecker and hunter first, so they can help omega. then you're helping me with tech.' you say. 'first, you need to put a brace on wrecker's neck and check for other injuries. wrecker, you need to make sure you don't move your head and neck too much.'

both echo and wrecker nod at you. as echo moves to help wrecker, you give out the rest of the orders.

'echo, when you're done with wrecker, see to hunter's ribs. get a bandage around his chest nice and tight. but he needs breathing room, so not too tight. hunter, you can then see to omega. make sure she rests enough and drinks enough. when she gets dizzy or lightheaded, come to me immediately. echo, when you've seen to hunter, you help me with tech.' you say.

as they all start following your orders, you focus on tech again.

you take a deep breath. it's alright. just do what you do best.

you start bandaging up his chest. nice and tight, but with breathing room. just like you told echo. one thing at a time. you move to his left shoulder, inspecting it. you'd need echo to hold tech still while you set it right, but he's still busy with the others. you settle with taking a look at tech's leg.

just as you're done with tech's leg, echo is by your side.

'tell me.' he says.

you nod. 'I need you to hold him still while I put his knee and shoulder back.'

echo moves and holds tech's leg steady while you place your hands on his knee.

'one, two, three!'

with one quick movement, you snap tech's knee back in place.

'his shoulder next.' you say.

again, echo holds him while you count down and put tech's shoulder back in place.

a part of you is glad tech is still unconscious. at least he wouldn't actually feel you putting parts of his body back where they belong.

'what next?' says echo.

'I'm going to bind his arm and see to his face.' you say. 'can you get the others to the guest bedrooms? there's also water and food in the kitchen, make sure they eat something. then they need to get some rest.'

echo nods and takes off, getting the others to the bedrooms. you turn back to tech.

you exhale a shaky breath. just a few more, then it would be out of your hands. then all you had to do was stay by his side and wait for him to wake up.

as soon as you start taking care of tech's broken arm, you fall back into an easy routine. you'd taken care of more than one broken arm. it's ironic how you could do the movements in your sleep.

once you've finished with his arm, you finally move to his face.

you take a clean bandage, and use some water to make it damp, so you can clean some of the blood off of tech's face. behind you, you hear footsteps.

'the others are resting. omega is in the big guest room, hunter refused to leave her side so we got some pillows for him. wrecker is already asleep in the other guest room, I'm taking the other cot next to him.' says echo.

'alright.' you say, surprised you can maintain such a steady voice. 'I'm nearly done with tech.'

'you should get some rest as well.' says echo.

'sure.' you say.

you and echo both know you're staying up until tech wakes again.

echo's footsteps trail up the stairs, and you hear a door close in the distance.

you turn back to tech, cleaning his face.

'don't you dare scare me like this again.' you say softly. you're aware tech probably can't hear you. but you need this.

you don't know if you could ever tell him how you felt when you saw his bruised and bloody body in the arms of wrecker and echo. you would have given anything to change places with him.

sometimes you don't understand why you still have hope he could feel the same way about you. but there's always some tiny part of you that stubbornly refuses to believe tech doesn't care about you. maybe it was all foolishness, anyway.

you pull up a chair and sit down next to tech, letting your eyes roam over his face. he didn't look like himself without his glasses. hunter had put them on a table nearby, but they were broken. knowing tech, he could probably fix them. if only he would wake up.

now that echo is gone, you let the tears fall. everything you held back while you worked on tech, it's all coming out now. you sit there in silence, tears streaming down your face. you'd been this close to losing tech. and you wouldn't talk to him because you liked him.

no, you loved him.

holy fuck, you loved tech. maybe deep down you'd known all along. that whatever you felt for him went deeper than just caring about him. you loved him. you'd go crazy if you were to lose him.

'wake up.' you say softly. 'I need you to wake up.'

you sit there for hours. the tears long gone. you're just sitting there, waiting for tech to wake up. at some point in the night, echo had come down to get a glass of water for omega.

he didn't seem surprised to see you awake. instead, after taking the glass of water up to omega, he sat with you. talked with you about tech. what had happened. you just sat in silence and listened.

after a while, echo left again. and your fear and sadness turned to anger.

how could tech have done that? how could he have left his brothers behind like that? he almost left you behind.

you're not even tired anymore. the anger is giving you a new reason to stay awake. you needed tech to wake up so you could ask him why the fuck he would do that.

it's nearly dawn, and you're getting hungry. you get up to get a quick snack from the kitchen, then you return to tech's side.

'what the fuck were you thinking tech?' you mumble softly, as you look a this beaten up face. 'you’ve got people who care about you. do you have any idea what it’s like to lose someone that means that much to you?'

the soft rays of morning sunshine begin to fill the room. you watch tech's chest rise and fall beneath the bandages.

'what the hell were you even thinking.' you mumble. ‘it's like you don't even care about us.'

‘I do care about you all.’

you nearly drop the cup of caf you are holding. surely you didn't hear that right? but when you look at tech's face, you see he's opened one eye. the other is still swollen shut.

'then why the fuck did you do it?' you say.

tech looks confused. it might be because he's still in a lot of pain.

'I do care about you all.' says tech again.

you frown, getting up and stepping closer to him. 'I need to check to see if you haven't gotten a concussion anyway.' you say.

'I do care about you all.' says tech, more firmly this time.

you frown as you look at him.

'oh.'

‘it was the only way they would be able to get to safety.’ says tech.

‘I hate heroes’ you mumble. ‘a lot of heroes go to their deaths for what they think is a noble cause. all it does is cause the people who care about them more hurt. I’ve grieved enough for one lifetime.’

tech blinks slowly, as if staying awake is taking tremendous effort.

‘I will not give you any reason to grieve.’ he says.

‘but you can't promise me that.’ you say, feeling tears well up in your eyes.

‘I can promise you I will do my best to ensure you will never have to grieve the loss of either one of my brothers. or omega. or me.’ says tech.

you quickly wipe away your tears. 'you better do your damn best, you hear me? I was terrified you wouldn't wake up.' you say.

'you look like you haven't gotten any rest.' says tech.

'I didn't. I had to see to everyone's injuries.'

'surely that did not take all night?'

'well, no.'

'then why did you stay awake?'

'I was waiting for you to wake up.'

you look at tech again. there's a look in his eyes you can't quite understand. 'seriously though, don't do that again. I was scared.' you say.

'I will try to be more cautious.' says tech.

'and less heroic.' you say.

'I am a soldier. most soldiers tend to do heroic things.' says tech.

you chuckle softly. 'didn't lose your sense of humour, huh?'

'can I ask you something regarding your medial skills?' says tech.

'sure.' you say.

'how much good can you do in this village? it seems to shrink every time we get here.' says tech.

you shrug. 'that's because it does. most people move to the city, or off-world.' you say. 'in a couple of years this village won't exist anymore.'

'we could use a medic.' says tech.

you slightly raise your eyebrows. 'you're asking me to come with you?' you say.

'yes.'

'shouldn't hunter ask me?'

'I am asking you.'

you smile softly. 'I would go with you.' you say. 'if only to make sure I don't have to set your leg right a third time.' your smile falters slightly. 'why?'

'you said you've seen enough grief for a lifetime.' says tech. 'I simply think you need to balance it out. traveling with us won't be easy, we're still wanted by the empire. but at least you will be with us. people who care about you, instead of staying in a village that's disappearing.'

'if hunter is okay with it, I'll come with you.' you say.

'I'm okay with it.'

you look over your shoulder. 'how long have you been standing there?' you say.

'long enough. welcome to the bad batch.' says hunter. 'echo's making breakfast. I'll make sure he brings two plates here for you.'

'thanks.' you say as hunter leaves.

you turn back to tech. 'looks like you're stuck with me.' you say.

'I don't mind being stuck with you.' says tech. 'and thank you.'

'for what?'

'taking care of me.'

you impatiently wave your hand. 'I'm a medic. it's what I do tech.'

'true. but you did not have to stay with me all night. you have my thanks for that, too.'

'you're welcome, tech. now get some rest.'

A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Max/Marit

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