The Bad Batch Hunter - Tumblr Posts - Page 3

I think I've already written this, but repetition is the mother of teaching, so I'll write it again. Crosshair is one of the best characters in the series, due to his character arch. I like that in the first episode he was in the mask of a sarcastic and unemotional clone who doesn't care about Omega, and who has a conflict with the Hunter. In the last episode, there is no conflict, he calmly shows all his emotions and feelings, and Omega Cross protects in the same way as other brothers. Maybe the last one, but he still awakened his paternal instinct, inherent in most clones.

it’s the Batman wannabe 🫶🫶

Missing them 🥹

Love this especially the Crosshair one

How the Bad Batch react to Omega being upset (HC’s)

Hello there!

I have written more Headcanons! I do so enjoy writing these.

This one is a sort of continuation of the last one I did, that you can find right here.

So, as the title stipulates, this one is about the Bad Batch reacting to Omega being upset. It’s gonna be slightly AU, as I will be including Crosshair. Our boys aren’t really shown to be processing their emotions as they are constantly on the move (and are apparently built to withstand stress), so I thought I’d write a little something about how I think they would help Omega process her emotions.

Warnings: Fluff galore! Lots and lots of it. There will be quite a bit of angst and minor mentions of violence. Slightly AU. Some swearing (both English and Mando’a – forgive me if the Mando’a isn’t right. I relied heavily on the internet for the translations). Also, I never got it proof read so sorry in advance if there's any grammar/spelling mistakes!

Happy reading!

Hunter:

· We all know Hunter is stoic and acts like a tough, no-nonsense leader, but under that dark and broody façade is a sweet man who loves Omega with all his heart. She is very precious to him and he’s very glad that they took her with them when they escaped from Kamino.

· She managed to push past his tough exterior and unlock emotions within him that he didn’t even know he had. Watching her grow as a person and experience the galaxy brings him so much happiness and he’s glad that he gets to experience it with her.

· So, when Omega is hurting, he hurts too, and not just because he can sense when she is upset by the way her breathing changes or the sounds of her very quiet sobs that anyone else would struggle to hear.

· He doesn’t like seeing her sad but, in the beginning, he doesn’t quite know what to do when she’s upset, as he’s never really had to deal with an upset child before.

· He doesn’t really go for physical contact with anyone because of his enhanced senses, and at first, he is reluctant to hug her back when she hugs him – usually he would just put his hands on her shoulders and try to talk to her.

· But Omega is too sweet and pure and deserves all the love in the world, so the resolute walls he built up from being a soldier came crashing down and he finally hugged her one day when she was particularly sad and exhausted.

· He just held her close and gently rubbed her shoulders, telling her that everything would be okay, and promised her that he would always be there to look after her. He would never leave her, and he would never let anyone hurt her.

· The hug also puts him at ease too and after a while even his senses become used to it and it doesn’t bother him. He also needs this as much as she does, even if he doesn’t realise it at first. (Tech was right all those months ago when he was rambling about the benefits of a hug).

· He will never push for her to tell him what’s wrong, but will let her know that when she’s ready to talk he will be there to listen and offer support.

· Omega will often fall asleep, safe, and warm, in Hunter’s arms. He sometimes falls asleep too, relieved that he could be there for her and that she was safe in his arms, protected from harm.

Wrecker:

· A lot of people think that Wrecker is just big and loud, so how could he possibly be a comforting presence when someone is upset?

· Well, for one, he is the best hugger out of the Bad Batch and when people are upset, particularly Omega, he is usually the first to notice (after Hunter and his enhanced senses).

· He took to Omega basically straight away when the Bad Batch escaped Kamino with her. They have the same excitable energy and constantly hype each other up.

· They have a very special bond, and he hates seeing her upset and will do anything to see her smile again. Seeing her sad makes him upset and angry. He just wants her to be happy.

· He will scoop her up in his arms and hold her until she calms down, humming a random tune to soothe her.

· He will try to make her laugh by telling awful dad jokes and he will let her hold Lula because Lula helps him when he’s upset. He will also grab the Tooka doll he made her, called AZ, because double the tooka, double the happiness.

· When Omega does finally smile, Wrecker’s heart will soar. He feels that sometimes people judge him and fear him because of his appearance, but when Omega seeks him out when she is upset and he can make her smile again, it makes him realise that maybe people are wrong about him and that he’s wrong about himself - maybe he’s not so scary after all. He does in fact understand the need for subtlety and softness when it comes to comforting someone, despite what appearances suggest.

· When she has calmed down and is ready to talk about what’s wrong, he will be like “Who made you upset? Was it Crosshair? Because I’ll kick his shebs!”

· Once any ass-kickings have been given (if needed), they will seek out some food together (Mantell Mix is a favourite, of course).

· They will laugh and joke and have the biggest grins on their faces, happy to be in each other’s presence.

Tech:

· Tech, the clever clogs that he is, knew how special Omega was from the beginning when he analysed her DNA.

· However, he was still a little awkward around her at first because he, like the rest of his brothers, wasn’t used to having a child around, but they ended up bonding over their mutual love of knowledge and Omega hanging on his every word, especially when it came to teaching her about the Marauder. He likes that she doesn’t brush him off when he tells her facts, and actually asks him more questions and genuinely likes learning what she can from him.

· Now, Tech is a very smart man and has gathered knowledge about what to do if someone is upset, you know, just in case he ever needed to comfort someone.

· In theory, comforting someone seems pretty straightforward, but putting it into practise? Not as straightforward as it seems!

· Omega was upset one day, and usually she would seek out Hunter or Wrecker, but they weren’t there. He knew he had to do something, as he didn’t like to see her upset. But the thought of trying to console her made him slightly uncomfortable. What if he made her feel worse rather than better?

· He pushed his anxiety to the side anyway and asked her what was wrong, but she just sniffed and shook her head, leaving Tech to search his brain for what he should do next. He internally berated himself for being slow in providing comfort, because the longer he took to think of something, the longer Omega was upset.

· After a few long, slightly uncomfortable moments he said “You know, I have read that hugs have been proven to reduce stress and they also release oxytocin- “

· Before he could even finish his sentence, Omega threw her arms around him and held tight. He awkwardly patted her back at first, but then relaxed and hugged her properly. He held her tight and sat quietly for a few moments, letting her get her breathing back under control.

· He also started to feel the benefits of the hug and finished telling Omega why hugs are healthy. She looked up at him and smiled, thanking him for making her feel better. Seeing her smile at him like that made his heart melt and he was so relieved that he could help her feel better. He knew that information about hugs would come in handy one day!

· Omega would then tell the rest of the batchers this and try to get all of them to hug regularly, for the sake of their health! This idea was met with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

Echo:

· Echo wasn’t so sure about having Omega aboard the Marauder at first, mostly because he didn’t think she would be safe travelling with them.

· But then he saw how well she fit in, and he realised that she belonged with them.

· During his time as an ARC trooper, Echo saw some pretty messed up shit on the dangerous missions he was sent on (often with Fives). Some of these missions gave him terrible nightmares, and he would wake up shouting and terrified. Fives would calm him down and hug him, saying “It’s okay, vod, you’re safe”. He would also do the same for Fives if he ever had nightmares. He still has nightmares from when he was imprisoned at Skako Minor.

· One night, Hunter, Wrecker and Tech were out getting supplies, leaving Echo on the ship with Omega and Crosshair. Omega had retired to her room at his request to get some sleep a few hours before.

· He then heard small, quiet whimpers coming from Omega’s little room and immediately went to see if she was ok. By the time he climbed up the ladder, she was awake and looked terrified, and the scared look on her face reminded him of himself and Fives, when they would awaken in the dead of night, from dreams plagued with war and darkness.

· He asked her if she had a nightmare and she nodded her head, so he helped her down the ladder, and took her to sit down in one of the chairs in the cockpit, stopping to get a blanket along the way.

· He put the blanket around her, and she immediately leaned into him, searching for comfort, and he hesitantly put his arms around her, worried that his cybernetics would hurt her.

· However, she didn’t make any sign that his cybernetics bothered her, so he held her more firmly and let her cry, while he whispered, “It’s ok, vod’ika, you’re safe”, just like Fives would whisper to him.

· He let silent tears of his own fall, thinking about how unfair it was that Fives wasn’t there with him, about the war that had taken so many of his brothers. He hated that Omega was going through this, she was too young! He composed himself, putting on the mask of a tough soldier, and asked Omega what her nightmare was about.

· He vowed that night that he would always be there for Omega, no matter what.

Crosshair:

· Crosshair was very against having Omega aboard the Marauder. She was a child, had no combat experience, and would be a liability.

· He found her irritating at first, she and Wrecker were always doing something and were too energetic for his tastes. He tried to avoid her as much he could, which was difficult to do on the Marauder. He was even sarcastic and downright rude to her a few times, which the rest of his brothers reprimanded him for.

· Yet, no matter how sarcastic or unpleasant he was, Omega would still try to talk to him. She always made an effort to ask how he was, to engage him in conversation. And she always made sure he was included in every discussion the group had. She even came to him for advice about shooting her bow on a few occasions.

· She started to grow on him, and after a while he got used to her presence and even started to enjoy it, and he stopped trying to avoid her and actually held conversations with her. She was a little ray of sunlight in their ragtag group. But there was no way in hell he would ever admit that to anyone, he even had trouble admitting that to himself!

· One day, he was asked to stay behind with Omega because she needed a break, whilst the other batchers went to do an easy job for Cid. Apparently Hunter had decided that Wrecker’s, Tech’s and Echo’s skills would be needed more than Crosshair’s for that job.

· He heard Omega crying, and he froze. What the kriff was he supposed to do with a crying child? That was usually Hunter or Wrecker’s territory. Kriff, even Tech and Echo would be a better choice than him.

· But they weren’t there, and he couldn’t very well leave Omega to sit and cry on her own, could he? Even he wasn’t that cold.

· He approached her slowly, and knelt in front of her, intent on asking her what was wrong and trying to fix it as fast as possible. Before he opened his mouth, she threw her arms around him. He sat frozen for what felt like hours, arms limp at his side whilst Omega held him and cried. He brought his arms up and patted her on the back a few times before drawing her slowly away from him and looking at her.

· “Come with me,” he said, and he took her to a little makeshift target practise range he had made for himself to let off some steam when he needed to, making sure she brought her bow with her. They stood side by side like that for a while, Omega shooting her bow and Crosshair occasionally giving her advice on how to shoot more accurately.

· From that point on, Crosshair and Omega became closer and would use the practise range together when everything got a little too much for them. And Crosshair vowed quietly to himself that he would never let anyone harm their little ray of sunshine.

Tag list: @eyecandyeoz @itsjml @kratosfan6632466 @radbatch

(if you wanna be tagged in any of my future stuff just let me know via message!)

I'm going insane !?!!!?!? this is incredible

The Safe House

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader / Hunter x Medic!Reader

Words: 12,466

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, friends/squadmates to lovers, idiots to lovers actually, mutual pining, some very minor wound care, consent is sexy and so is communication, smut, oral (m and f receiving), coming untouched, dirty talk, scent kink maybe

Summary: After a mission goes sideways, you and Hunter are left stranded for the night. Lucky for you, you know of a safe house nearby. Unlucky for you, there's only one bed.

A/N: I can't even pretend to feel shame about this. Hunter loves to eat and that's it, that's the fic.

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“Well, shit.”

Your hand falls from the doorknob, staring into the cabin with a look of horror on your face. It’s smaller than you remembered. A kitchenette, a fireplace, a dusty armchair, and a single bed. The walls are wood-paneled, a few worn posters hanging on them. The door to the bathroom is open, and you can see the shower stall, but not much else. 

When you and Hunter were left stranded on this planet, you hadn’t worried. There was a safe house here, after all, one from your days before you became the squad’s medic. Hunter was in no shape to help you out, and with the Marauder making an emergency landing on the other side of the planet… well, it was safer to split up. This safe house had been the closest one, so you did the smart thing. You went there.

Except, this is not the safe house you remembered.

You remember it being big. Not huge, but certainly large enough for a couple people to crash in until rescue came. Certainly not a tiny, one room shack with one bed. You don't even know if that bed is big enough for both you and Hunter.

Hunter props his arm up on the doorframe, peering in over your shoulder, but he doesn't have much to add to your statement. He looks into the room, then back down at you. He doesn’t say anything, which only makes the situation more uncomfortable. You know you have to go in, but…

You don’t move, even though Hunter is standing behind you, blocking your way out. The two of you have been out here for several minutes now in the cold, just staring at the one tiny bed inside the cabin. There was no couch, or cot, or anything else. Just the single bed. Your mind was already racing with possibilities, most of them not so great.

Your cheeks are starting to hurt from clenching your jaw, and you finally break the silence.

"We're adults,” you state, firmly.

"We are,” Hunter says. He sounds uncertain, so you turn around to look at him.

"And we're both capable of sharing a bed. There's plenty of room,” you continue, nodding, as if confirming your words to yourself.

Hunter nods along, too, but the two of you just stand there, unmoving.

Finally, Hunter speaks up. "You... want to go in, or...?"

He lets his words trail off, and you know what he's getting at. You're the one holding us up.

"I'm going, I'm going!" you snap as you look back into the cabin, but you're still not moving.

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure."

"Because you haven't actually gone inside yet."

You whirl around and glare up at Hunter, but you can't find the words to respond, and your face is flushed. It's the cold, you tell yourself, refusing to admit that you're blushing. It's not the situation you're in, and it's not the idea of having to share a bed with Hunter, of all people.

It's the cold.

He smiles, and you almost slap him, but his words stop you.

"I don't mind sharing a bed with you."

It's an honest admission, and the sincerity in his words takes you off guard.

"Really?" you ask, unable to hide the surprise in your voice.

"Really." 

Hunter's eyes meet yours and you're suddenly very aware of how close the two of you are standing. His breath ghosts across your cheeks, a cloud of mist from the cold. You feel warmth bloom in your chest. 

"If you're okay with it,” he adds. He's watching you closely now, waiting to see what your reaction is. He's giving you an out, and you're grateful for it. But the way his eyes are locked onto yours, the way his lips are pulled into a half smile, the way he seems to be holding his breath...

You shake your head, breaking the moment.

"Yeah. Yes. I'm fine. Let's go in," you blurt out, and step inside, leaving Hunter to shut the door behind the two of you.

Once inside, you kick off your boots and set your bag down. You glance around, taking in the familiar room. The fireplace, the bed, the old armchair. Everything was just as you remembered it. Mostly.

You turn back to look at Hunter. He’s checking the firewood box, and he gives you a thumbs up, confirming there was enough to last the night. You let out a breath and smile at him, and he smiles back.

Then he turns to the bed.

And you're reminded of the situation you're in.

“You should sit down,” you say, gesturing towards the bed. “I need to take a look at that gash on your head."

He nods and does as he's told, sitting on the edge of the bed, and you sit beside him, careful to keep some distance between the two of you.

You take his chin in your hand and turn his head, getting a better look at the cut above his eye. It’s not that bad, thankfully. Bacta should heal it, and he wouldn't need any stitches, but the blood has dried and crusted around the wound. It's not going to be fun to clean.

“I should have done this earlier,” you mutter to yourself, your eyes scanning his face. You tilt his head from side to side, looking for any other signs of damage, but the rest of his face is free of cuts and bruises. Just a bit dirty, but nothing a little water won’t fix.

"It's fine," Hunter says quietly. There's no irritation in his voice, no indication that he's bothered by you fussing over him. In fact, he seems content to sit still while you finish examining him. He's not squirming away or trying to talk you out of doing this. If anything, he seems at ease.

 "I think you had more important things to do. Like keeping me conscious,” he continues. You pause and look down at him, and his dark eyes are fixed on you. You can't read his expression, but the corner of his mouth is curled up in a soft smile. It's an encouraging look, and you take a breath before continuing.

"I still shouldn't have forgotten.” You let go of him and stand to pull out an alcohol wipe from your bag. “I can't believe I didn't think about that, we've been walking for so long... Why didn't you tell me? Were you trying to be cool and pretend it didn't hurt or something?”

He scoffs and shakes his head. "Yeah. Something like that."

"Hunter," you chastise as you move to stand in front of him. His legs widen on instinct, making room for you between them, and you step closer until your thighs are nearly brushing his. "Don't be a martyr. It's not going to help anyone."

"Okay, okay," he holds his hands up, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "You got me. I wanted to show off for you."

"You already showed off,” you say, but you're smiling too. “You nearly concussed yourself in the process, so you've done enough impressing for the day."

You're not sure why you're being so playful with him, especially given the circumstances. You've never had a problem joking around with him before, but now, alone in this tiny cabin, it feels different. There's an undercurrent of something, and you're not sure what it is.

He doesn't respond to you, but he's still smiling. He tilts his head back a bit, giving you better access to the wound, and you take the hint. You rip open the wipe, and gently brush his hair away from the cut, and the smile fades. When you lean in closer to him, inspecting the wound, his hand brushes your hip. It's an innocent touch, the barest of contact before he pulls away, and you're sure it's an accident, but it still makes your breath hitch.

"Is it bad?" he asks, his voice quieter than it was a few seconds ago.

"No, no. It's just a cut. I think the swelling is starting to go down,” you say, your hand still in his hair. Your fingers are combing through his locks, smoothing the messy strands away from his forehead that his bandana normally keeps in place. Your thumb traces the curve of his temple, and he leans into your touch. It's an intimate gesture, but it feels right, and when you look down at him, his eyes are closed.

"That's good," he murmurs. His breath ghosts over your skin, the heat of it making goosebumps erupt along your arm.

"I'm gonna clean it, okay?"

Hunter nods, and the movement jostles you. His face is dangerously close to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and the tip of his nose touches your skin. The urge to shiver is strong, but you ignore it. This isn't the time or the place to be thinking about things like this. You have a job to do, and Hunter needs your help.

"Hold still," you say, and he hums an affirmative. You take a deep breath and focus on the task at hand. “This will sting.”

"I've had worse,” he says, but the breathlessness of his voice has you questioning his words.

"Yeah, yeah." 

You're careful with him as you clean the wound, gently swiping the cloth over his skin. Hunter’s nose scrunches up, and his eyes squeeze shut, and you can't help the smile that appears on your face. It’s cute, but you keep that thought to yourself.

"You're doing great."

He chuckles. "Thanks."

You work in silence for a few minutes. You can feel his eyes on you as you work, but he doesn't say anything, and neither do you. You're too focused on your task, but your mind keeps wandering back to how close you are, closer than you've ever been. 

You're hyper aware of every little thing. The way the cold air of the cabin is starting to warm up from the fire, the way the bed creaks every time you shift your weight. How Hunter is watching your every move, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress, and your body is leaning into his.

The closeness is unfamiliar and overwhelming, and it makes you want to squirm. Or maybe run.

But instead, you stand stock still, and try not to think about the warmth emanating from him. He's so much bigger than you, his whole body a solid, firm wall against you, and it's a comforting feeling. He's safe. It's okay to lean into him, you reason. It's okay. It's fine. It's normal.

You're doing a favor for a friend. A friend who used to be your commanding officer, but now he's not really that anymore, and things are changing between the two of you. Your feelings, especially, are changing. You're not sure when it happened, or how it did, but they're changing.

You pull away abruptly and toss the used wipe into the trash, turning away from him.

“That should be fine," you say, and your voice is higher than it was before. You clear your throat, and grab the bacta spray.

"Thanks," he says, and you turn back to face him, avoiding his eyes. You can feel the heat rise to your face, and you clear your throat, focusing on the cut above his eye. You take out the bacta spray and pump the nozzle a few times, the familiar hissing noise filling the air.

"Alright, this'll just take a minute. Let me know if it's too cold."

"It's fine."

You nearly roll your eyes. Of course it's fine. It's Hunter. Nothing ever bothers him. He's perfect.

You can’t remember a single time where he’s ever complained about something, so you believe him. You don’t expect him to react any differently now. 

You certainly don’t expect him to gasp the moment the spray hits his skin, his hands finding your hips and holding onto you. He’s tense, fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes. He's not pushing you away, though, and his hands stay where they are, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

"You good?" You stop spraying, and move to pull away, but he shakes his head.

"I'm alright. Keep going."

You swallow and do as he asks. He keeps his grip on your hips, loosening his hold every now and then, but the pain doesn't seem to bother him as much. After a minute, the bacta has sealed the cut, leaving behind a small pink scar. You put the spray away, and run your thumb along the mark, the skin smooth beneath your touch.

Hunter sighs, the sound low and content, his eyes fluttering closed. He leans into your hand, and you can't help the warmth that blooms in your chest.

"Better?" you ask, your voice soft.

"Yeah."

You continue to stroke his skin, and his grip tightens. You're not sure what to do next. Do you pull away? Do you ask him to move his hands? Do you stay here and enjoy this moment for as long as you can? 

Hunter’s eyes are still closed, and his head tilts toward your palm. Your heart is pounding, and you’re positive that he can hear it. He probably thinks you're an idiot. Here he is, injured, and you're practically swooning over him.

You should pull away. You should get up. You should make the distance between the two of you a little wider. But you're still standing in front of him, one hand on his face, the other resting on his shoulder. His are still holding onto your hips, and he hasn't moved them.

Hunter opens his eyes, and you’re struck by how dark they are, how they catch the light of the fire and glow amber. The shadows dance along his jawline, emphasizing the darkness of his tattoo. His lips are slightly parted, his gaze locked onto yours, and the tension is palpable. You don’t dare move. Not an inch. You wait for him to say something, anything.

He opens his mouth, and then closes it again. His brows furrow together, and his lips pull into a thin line.

The moment is shattered when the wind picks up outside, rattling the window.

You pull your hands away, and Hunter lets go of you so fast it’s as if you burned him. He clears his throat and stands, walking past you to check the window, and you watch him go. You take a deep breath and will yourself not to blush, turning away from him to pack up the rest of the med kit.

"I should, uh. I should probably get cleaned up,” Hunter says from across the room.

"Oh. Yeah, of course."

You busy yourself with the contents of your bag to avoid looking in his direction, and he disappears into the bathroom, the door shutting behind him.

You let out a shaky breath, and run a hand over your face. What the hell was that? You were being so ridiculous. Hunter was your friend, and nothing more. The fact that you were both alone together was making you act strangely, and you knew it.

He's probably uncomfortable. He's probably in there trying to figure out a way to politely tell you that you're acting weird and he's not interested in you like that. He's just being nice. That's all it is.

The thought makes you nauseous, and you try to push it out of your mind as you strip off your armor and pants, and then the suit you wear underneath. You're left in only your sports bra and compression shorts, and you shiver. It was freezing, and you weren't looking forward to sleeping without proper pajamas, or even a shirt.

There's not much you can do it about it now, though. It wasn't like you had packed your bag for an overnight stay. You were much more concerned about having the necessary supplies to keep the boys and Omega alive than having a change of clothes. You're kicking yourself for it now, though.

You rifle through your bag to find your toiletries and brush your teeth at the kitchen sink. You don't think about Hunter, or how good he smelled, or how warm his hands were, or the feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, or—

Stop it.

You splash some water onto your face and take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart.

After a few minutes, you've managed to get yourself under control. You grab the blankets and pillow, and you spread them out over the bed. The sheets are worn and old but clean, and the blankets are thick, and you hope they'll be enough to keep the two of you warm. Hunter runs as hot as a furnace, anyway. You'll be fine.

You've finished laying out the blankets when the bathroom door opens. Hunter steps out, a cloud of steam following him, and he stops immediately, eyes wide. He's wearing the bottom half of his blacks, but his torso is bare, a towel slung over his shoulders. Water drips from his hair, and the few droplets the towel doesn’t catch run down his neck and chest, disappearing into the waistband of his blacks.

You force yourself to look away, and you're suddenly very interested in the blanket. You pick at a loose thread while your heart thuds loudly in your chest. He doesn't say anything. Neither do you. 

When you glance up, his eyes are still fixed on you, and then he blinks, seemingly snapping out of whatever thoughts were running through his head. Hunter gives you a small smile, the corner of his mouth lifting up, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks almost... sad. But the look disappears just as quickly as it came.

"Bathroom's free," he says, and there's a strain in his voice, as if he's trying to sound casual, and failing.

You nod. “Thanks.”

He walks over to the fire and adds a few logs, stoking the flames. They crackle and spit, and the smokey smell fills the cabin. You take the opportunity to duck into the bathroom as quick as possible and shut the door behind you. You lock it for good measure and lean against the wall, taking a few deep breaths.

Your eyes fall shut, and you try to center yourself. You're exhausted. This entire mission has been a disaster, both of you are barely dressed, and the two of you are sharing a bed. You just want to sleep, but your nerves are shot.

You strip out of your clothes and take a quick shower, letting the hot water relax your muscles. It does the job, but the feeling is short-lived, and the second you turn the water off, the stress returns.

You dry yourself off, and slip on the same shorts and bra you'd been wearing. There's not much else you can do, and you're too tired to care about it anymore. You're just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. It's one night. It's not the end of the world.

The mirror is fogged over, so you swipe your hand across the glass, revealing your reflection. You're not thrilled with the person looking back at you, and you scowl at your face. A few bruises and scrapes decorate your skin, and a thin, red line sits just below your ribs. You can't remember getting it, but it's nothing serious.

You comb through your wet hair, and after a few minutes, it's as good as it's going to get.

"Alright," you mutter, nodding to yourself with a sigh. "You can do this."

You open the door and walk into the bedroom. Hunter is sitting on the edge of the bed, his bandana in his hands. His hair is still drying, curling around his ears and the nape of his neck, and he hasn't put his shirt back on. He looks up at you and offers a weak smile, his fingers running along the faded material.

You return the smile, but it's not genuine. Your stomach is in knots, and your heart is racing, and the butterflies are back. You can't remember the last time you were this nervous.

You stand awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure what to do or say. You're both clearly not okay with this, and you hate it. You hate the tension that's settled over the two of you, the discomfort, the uncertainty. You should say something.

Hunter seems to come to the same conclusion, because he clears his throat and speaks up.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice low. He's studying you carefully, and you know he can hear the way your heartbeat has sped up at the question. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," you answer a little too quickly. At his raised brow, you sigh. "I'm just... This is really weird, isn't it?”

"A bit," he admits, and the two of you chuckle awkwardly. He shifts his weight and looks down, his shoulders tense. “I can take the chair, if that would make you more comfortable."

You shake your head. "No, no, it's not that. It's just..." You trail off, unsure of what to say. You're embarrassed by the way your body is reacting, how it seems like the tiniest thing has you worked up, and Hunter doesn't need to know that.

"I can't ask you to do that. I'll take the chair."

Hunter stares at you, and his brows knit together. Your face flushes, and you look away, unable to meet his gaze.

"You’re not sleeping on the chair," he says firmly. He's using his sergeant voice, and his tone leaves no room for argument.

You frown. “Is that an order?”

He shakes his head, and his face falls. The stern look in his eyes softens, and he looks almost hurt. "Of course not. I just... I want to make sure you're comfortable.”

You're not sure how to respond. He's always been protective of you, just as he’s always been protective of everyone on the squad, and it makes sense that he'd be worried about your well-being. But this feels different.

He's still frowning, and you know he's upset with himself, as if he's done something wrong. It's a far cry from the way he'd teased you outside the cabin earlier, and his mood shift throws you for a loop. You don’t know what's happening, but the thought of upsetting him, or disappointing him, is not something you're willing to deal with.

You take a breath and force yourself to look him in the eye, and you take a guess. "Hunter, I'm not... I'm not scared of you, if that's what you're thinking."

The way his body sags at your words confirms your suspicions. "You’re not?"

"Of course not," you say, shaking your head. "I trust you. Completely. But... I'm still nervous, and I'm not sure why, and I'm sorry, I—"

"Hey," Hunter interrupts, and he stands. He closes the distance between the two of you in a single stride, and you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His face is serious, and you hold your breath as he places his hands on your shoulders. "It's okay."

"It is?" you ask, surprised by the gentleness in his voice.

He nods, his expression softening. "Yeah."

"I don't want things to be awkward between us, but I'm... I'm having a hard time being normal,” you confess. Your mouth twists into a grimace, and you huff, shaking your head. "This is dumb. I'm sorry. It's just a stupid bed. We can share it, it's not a big deal.”

Hunter sighs, and the sound makes you flinch. You've disappointed him. Of course you have. He's probably mad at you for being so dramatic. For making a big deal out of nothing. Why couldn't you just suck it up and get over it?

"This is my fault," he says, and his words are so quiet, you're not sure you heard him correctly. You tilt your head, and he looks away, dropping his hands from your shoulders.

"What?"

"It's my fault."

He takes a step back, putting some distance between the two of you, and you want nothing more than to reach out and close the gap again. You stay where you are, though, watching him.

"Hunter, I already told you, it's not that I'm scared, I'm just—"

"Not the bed thing." He shifts awkwardly and avoids looking at you, instead staring out the window. "Well, not entirely.”

You don't understand. "Then what is it?"

He's silent for a few moments, and the only sound is the wind outside. The fire has started to die down, the embers glowing brightly in the dim room. You can see his hands clench and unclench at his sides, and his jaw is set, as if he's trying to work something out.

He's nervous. It's such a strange sight, and one you've never seen on him before. Hunter doesn't get nervous. Hunter doesn't avoid people. Hunter is cool and calm and collected.

You've never seen him like this before, and you can’t stop yourself from trying to comfort him. You take a step forward and place a hand on his arm, and he stills. His eyes dart over to your face, and you can feel his gaze linger on the spot where your hand is touching his bare skin.

"Hunter," you say, softly, trying not to spook him. "Please. Tell me."

He sighs. "It's a lot. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Of course I do," you answer, and you take a step closer to him. You're standing toe to toe, and your free hand finds his other arm, so you're holding onto him.

You have no idea what's gotten into you, and the boldness of your actions should have you running for the hills, but there's something about the way his dark eyes are looking at you that makes you feel safe. It's the same feeling you get when he's in charge of a mission, or when he's fighting at your side. He's protecting you, and you have no reason to doubt him.

"Whatever it is, I want to know."

Hunter sighs again, and his eyes drop from yours. He's hesitating, and you can't help but wonder what could be bothering him. He's been acting strange ever since the two of you crashed on this planet, but now that you think about it, it started long before that. Ever since Saleucami, maybe. Maybe even earlier.

But then his gaze finds yours again, and he looks so vulnerable, your thoughts scatter.

"It's not... I shouldn't. Not while we're stranded like this, it's not fair to you. I don't want you to feel like you have to deal with this on top of everything else. If it was a different time, a different place, then maybe, but—"

You squeeze his arms, and he stops talking. "Hunter."

His breath catches in his throat, and you can see the way his throat bobs as he swallows, the way his brows knit together. His eyes are dark, and there's a tension in the air, one that has been building since the moment you entered the cabin.

"Tell me," you say, and your words are barely a whisper.

"I should have told you a long time ago. But I never had the chance, and it's not fair of me to tell you now, when things are complicated, but..."

"But what?"

"But I care about you."

"Hunter," you start, your grip tightening on his arms, "of course I know you care about me, you've always looked out for me —"

"No, no," he says, shaking his head. "I mean, I do care about you. A lot. But that's not what I meant."

He pauses, and his hands slide up to your wrists, and he gently removes your hands from his arms. You think he's going to push you away, but he doesn't. He holds onto you, his fingers wrapping around your forearms.

"Hunter?"

"I've... I've had feelings for you. For a while."

Your mouth goes dry, and all the air rushes out of your lungs. He's holding onto you as if he's afraid you'll run away, and in all honesty, it's a very real possibility.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." He says it like a confession, his voice hoarse and pained, and it makes your heart ache.

You shake your head. "You don't need to be sorry. I'm just... I'm confused."

"I was trying to keep them in check, but it's hard when we're together, and I can't seem to stop myself,” he says. “I didn't want to make things awkward for you, so I was trying to keep some distance. It was working, but then this whole mess happened, and I'm not sure how to keep doing this."

"Oh," is all you manage to say, and it's barely a whisper.

Hunter drops your hands and turns away, running a hand over his face. You can tell he's embarrassed, and the sight breaks your heart. You've never seen him so upset before, and it's killing you.

"It's not a big deal, I'll get over it, but it's been... difficult."

You're at a loss for words, but you know what he's talking about. It's been hard on you, too. You've wanted to reach out to him, to close the distance, but you've always held yourself back.

"Hunter."

He doesn't turn, so you step closer, and he freezes. You don't touch him, though, not yet.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He doesn't answer at first, and you're not sure he's going to. He takes a shaky breath, and turns his head, but he doesn't look at you.

"I didn't think you felt the same way,” he says. “You’ve never shown any interest, and I didn't want to force something onto you that you didn't want. I just thought I'd make it easier for you. Make the rejection less painful."

Your mouth drops open. "I haven't — what?"

"But now," he continues, ignoring your interruption. "I'm not sure I can keep going. It's been hell, and I know it's selfish, and I'm sorry."

"Wait," you say, and he finally looks at you. You can see the hurt in his eyes, the pain that's been building for who knows how long, and it shatters you. "You've really thought I didn't want you? This whole time?"

"I... Yeah?"

"Hunter," you breathe.

"It's not important."

"Yes, it is."

"You don't need to lie to make me feel better,” he says. "I know how things are."

"Hunter, I've been acting weird because I was worried that you would be able to hear my heartbeat, or sense how nervous I am, or smell the way my body reacts when I'm near you," you say in a rush. "That's why I was freaking out."

He frowns. "Because you don't like me?"

"No, because I do!"

The two of you stare at each other, neither saying a word. The fire crackles loudly in the silence between you, and you can feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You can't believe you've said it out loud, but it feels right, and when Hunter's lips part in surprise, you know you can't take it back.

"You do?"

You stare back in utter disbelief. How could he not know?

"Of course I do," you say. "I thought you knew."

He shakes his head, and takes another step forward.

"I didn't... I thought... You were keeping your distance, and I just assumed..." Hunter trails off, staring at you in bewilderment. He takes a step closer, and you tilt your head back, looking up at him. His eyes are wide, and his gaze roams over your face, as if he's seeing you for the first time. "Really?"

Your lips twitch, and you’re unable to stop the laugh that escapes you. You’re not sure if it’s the absurdity of the situation, or the shock of learning that Hunter had feelings for you, too, or if it was simply the tension that had been building since the moment the two of you had walked into the cabin, but the next thing you know, you're doubled over, laughing harder than you had in months. Your sides hurt and your vision is blurry and you can't catch your breath, and a minute later, Hunter joins in.

"I'm sorry," you gasp, wiping a tear from your eye. "I'm not laughing at you, I promise. It's just... it's kind of funny, isn't it?"

"A bit," he says, his chest shaking with laughter. His shoulders relax, and his face is split into a grin, and he looks so happy, your heart feels like it's going to burst.

“We really need to work on our communication skills," you say, and Hunter snorts.

"I think we'll be alright,” he says with a shrug. “We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," you agree. "I think so, too."

He's still smiling, and it’s infectious. The butterflies in your stomach have come alive, and your body is tingling, but for once, you don't worry about how he might be reacting to your nerves. There's nothing to hide. Nothing to be nervous about. Hunter likes you, too. He's liked you this whole time, and the thought makes your head spin.

"We should probably go to bed," you say, and it comes out a little breathless. You're still staring at him, and he's staring back. His smile falls, but he doesn't look away.

"Probably," he agrees.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other.

"It's been a long day," he adds, and you nod.

"Yeah."

Hunter’s gaze flickers down to your lips, then back to your eyes. His chest rises and falls, and you can see the muscles shift under his skin. He licks his lips, and swallows, his throat bobbing.

"Right," you say and take a step closer to him.

"Yeah," Hunter echoes, his voice soft. His hands find your waist, and the feeling of his calloused palms against your skin makes you shiver.

"Do you... Do you want to share the bed?" you ask, your hands finding their way up to his chest. He's so close, you can feel the warmth emanating from him, and your body leans into him, your chest flush against his.

"If you're okay with it," he murmurs.

"I'm okay with it," you whisper, and the words hang between you, heavy with intent.

You're not sure who moves first, but one second, Hunter is holding onto you, his hands tightening around your waist, and the next, his lips are pressed against yours, and the kiss steals the breath from your lungs.

You're not surprised at the hunger in his movements, but it still makes your head spin. His mouth is hot and eager, and he kisses you as if his life depends on it. Your fingers curl around the hair at the nape of his neck, and his arms wrap around your back, pulling you closer. The hard planes of his body press against yours, and you can't help the whimper that leaves you when his hands slide down to the curve of your ass. He squeezes, and you pull away, gasping.

“Too much?” he asks, and the way his voice rasps in your ear makes a shudder run through you.

"Not enough," you breathe, and the way his hands grip your hips tightly tells you he feels the same.

He kisses you again, and the passion between you has ignited into a desperate, frantic heat. He bites down on your bottom lip, and when you groan, his tongue darts out, slipping past your lips. The way he explores your mouth, his tongue curling around yours, makes your knees weak, and you're grateful for the solid wall of his chest, keeping you upright.

Hunter tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you melt into him. Your hands trail along his jawline, the rough stubble scratching your skin, and you sigh. He kisses you hungrily, and you try to give him as much as you can, hoping he knows how much you care about him, how much you've wanted this, and for how long.

You don't know how much time has passed, but the two of you are still kissing, and your legs are starting to grow tired. Hunter seems to sense this, and his hands slide down to your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin. He lifts you up, and you gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"That's better," he murmurs into your neck, and your fingers tangle into his hair as he starts kissing along your jaw. His lips find your throat, and he sucks the skin into his mouth, biting down softly.

"Hunter," you whimper, your head falling back. He nips at your neck, and your body rolls against him. Your core brushes against the firmness of his abdomen, and you gasp.

"Shit," he breathes.

"Sorry," you say, your face burning with embarrassment.

"Don't apologize," he growls. His fingers dig into your thighs, and he sounds as if the sound alone was enough to unravel him. You shiver at the thought. "I just... Fuck. I wasn't expecting you to react like that."

"You're a little distracting," you admit, and the grin on his face makes your stomach flip.

"Am I?"

"Don't act like you don't know," you scold him, tugging his hair, and he groans. His eyes darken, and the noise that escapes him goes straight to your core. You swallow, trying to regain some composure, but it's impossible. It’s even harder when he turns and walks over to the bed, laying you down on the mattress, his body hovering above yours.

"I'm glad it's not just me," he says. His hair falls into his eyes, and you brush it aside, letting your hand rest on his cheek.

“Definitely not just you," you whisper, and the way his eyes light up is worth the confession.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

He captures your lips again, and you hum again in appreciation. His hands move over the curves of your body, his fingers sliding over your hips, his palms gripping the flesh of your thighs. His touch is searing, and the heat of it makes your skin tingle.

Your own hands explore his chest, the muscle rippling under your touch, his skin soft and warm. You drag your nails down his abdomen, and his body rolls into yours, his hardness pressing into the apex of your thighs. Your back arches, and the groan that escapes him makes your blood boil. You need more, need him to touch you, need him to keep kissing you, and you try to tell him as much. But every time you try to speak, his lips are there, swallowing your words.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbles, his words slurring together, and it's not the most coherent thing you've ever heard, but the compliment makes your heart flutter, anyway. You kiss him harder, and he grunts in appreciation, his hands gripping your thighs.

You're not sure how much time passes, and the two of you are only spurred on by the noises the other makes. When you nip at his neck, he growls. When he squeezes your hips, you moan. He's driving you mad, and it's obvious that he's having the same problem.

You're panting, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and Hunter breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours. He's breathing just as hard as you are, and he's shaking slightly, his eyes screwed shut. You place a hand on his shoulder, and his muscles tense under your touch.

"Are you okay?"

"Just give me a second," he says, and his voice is strained.

"What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer at first, and the silence stretches between the two of you.

"Hunter?"

"It's just... Fuck, I've been waiting for this for a while," he admits, and you can't stop the giggle that escapes you. He lifts his head and stares down at you, his eyes narrowing. "You're laughing?"

"I'm not laughing at you," you assure him, and he lets you pull his head back down. You kiss his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, and then his lips, and his mouth opens for you, his tongue swirling with yours. "It's just... I didn't know you wanted this."

"How could I not want this?" he asks. His mouth drops down to your neck, and his teeth scrape over the soft skin, his tongue licking a line up to your jaw. "You're incredible."

"You're incredible," you counter, and you can feel his grin against your neck.

"No, I'm serious," he says, and he stops kissing you. He lifts his head, and you frown. "You're beautiful, and smart, and kind, and you make me feel so many things. How could I not want this? I'd be stupid not to want you."

You swallow, and the emotions that wash over you threaten to overwhelm you. Hunter is looking at you with such affection, it's as if the feeling itself is enough to shatter him. He's never been very good with words, but his actions always spoke louder than any speech he could ever make.

"Hunter, I—"

"I'm sorry," he says. "I know I should have said something sooner. I'm not sure what I was thinking, honestly. I was worried about how it would affect the team. But now... Now that I've said it, and now that we're stranded here, and now that we've done this, and I've gotten a taste of you..."

"What do you mean?"

"I won't be able to go back."

Your stomach flutters.

"You want to be with me?" you ask. Your words are tentative, and your tone is careful, but there's a spark of hope, deep inside your heart, one that has been building ever since you first met Hunter. One that has been there for months, and maybe even longer.

"I do," he says. "And if we were anywhere else, I'd take you out for dinner or whatever the hell else you'd want. We could take our time, go as slow as you need, I don't care, but—“

"Hunter, yes. I want this."

He pauses.

"Yes?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

"You don't have to say that just because we're stranded. If you don't want to, it's okay."

"Hunter, please," you plead. "I've wanted this for so long, I can't... Please."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you say, nodding vigorously. Your legs tighten around his waist, and his hands slide up to your ribs, his thumbs rubbing circles along the underside of your breasts. You bite your lip and look up at him. "I want this. I want you."

Hunter lets out a shaky breath. "Thank the maker."

You giggle, and his eyes fall to your mouth. He kisses you again, his tongue pushing past your lips, and you lose yourself in him.

Your fingers comb through his hair, and his body presses down on top of yours. It's different than before. The passion is still there, the hunger and desperation are still present, but there's a tenderness behind his actions, one that wasn't there earlier. His lips are soft and gentle, and his hands roam over your body with a reverence you weren't expecting. You can feel the love in his touch, the affection he has for you, and it's enough to make your chest tighten.

The two of you trade languid kisses, his lips dragging against yours. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, and his weight is heavy on top of you, but it's a comfort. He's surrounding you, his body flush against yours, and your hearts are beating in sync. His length is pressed against you, his hips slowly rocking against your center, and each movement is sending a rush of heat through your core.

You can feel how wet you are, and you know Hunter can smell your arousal. It should be embarrassing, but when he growls against your mouth, you know that's not the case. You roll your hips into him, and his fingers dig into your sides. He's holding himself back, trying not to scare you, and the thought alone makes your heart swell.

"Hunter, please," you beg.

"What do you want?"

"Touch me."

His lips find your neck, and he presses a soft kiss there.

"How?"

"Just —" You groan when his hips roll into yours. "Anywhere. Everywhere."

He chuckles, and his breath is hot against your skin. "Where do you want me to touch you?"

You know what he's doing, and the realization makes you smile. He wants to hear you say it.

"You're mean," you mumble, and Hunter snorts. He bites the sensitive spot where your shoulder meets your neck, and your back arches, pushing your chest into his.

"I'm trying to be nice," he says, his voice rough, and he sucks the skin into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the area.

"Fuck, Hunter," you gasp, your nails scraping over his scalp. He groans, and his hands trail down your body, his fingers dipping under the waistband of your shorts.

"Tell me what you want," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your mind is racing, trying to come up with something, anything, but Hunter is relentless. His lips drag over your skin, and his tongue licks a stripe up your neck, and you can't think, not when his mouth is on you like this.

"Your hands," you breathe, and his fingers inch closer to your center. "Please, Hunter."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Fuck, yes."

"You want me to use my hands, mesh’la?"

"Please."

He doesn't need to be told twice.

Hunter sits up, pulling his hips away from yours. You whine in protest, but he's not gone long, because his fingers are slipping under the waistband of your shorts, and he's sliding them off along with your underwear.

You raise your hips to help him, and once they're gone, his hands find your bra. It takes some effort from the both of you to slide it up over your head, and you're not sure where it ends up, but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when he’s looking at you like that.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your naked form. His voice is low, and the way he's staring at you makes a shudder run through you. You feel exposed, and you should feel self-conscious, but the awe in his expression makes it impossible. He's gazing at you with an openness and admiration you've never seen before, and it's making it difficult to breathe.

"You're wearing too much," you say, your tone soft.

"Can't argue with that," he replies, and he leans back. He stands, and you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching as he pulls his blacks down and off. You stare at him, unable to tear your eyes away.

He's beautiful. His broad shoulders are well defined, and his chest is solid and strong, the muscle rippling under his skin. There's a scattering of hair along his torso, and a trail that starts at his navel, and disappears beneath the waistband of his briefs. You’ve seen him without a shirt before, and it was hard enough then. But now that he's standing here, in front of you, you can't stop yourself from drinking in the sight of him. You bite your lip, your eyes trailing over his tattoo, and you hear Hunter groan.

"You keep doing that, and this is going to be over before it even starts."

"Sorry," you say, but you don't sound very apologetic.

"You're not."

"You're right, I'm not," you say, and the smile that lights up his face is so endearing, you have to force yourself to stay where you are and not reach out for him.

He steps closer to the bed, his eyes glued to your naked form. The way he's staring at you makes a fire burn in your stomach, and your breath catches in your throat when his hands slide over your thighs, his fingers digging into the flesh. His eyes find yours, and you can see the way his jaw is clenched, his teeth grinding together.

"Can I?"

"Yeah," you breathe, and the next thing you know, Hunter's hands are gripping the backs of your knees, and he's yanking your legs apart.

You yelp in surprise, and the noise dies in your throat, turning into a moan when he lowers his mouth to your dripping center.

"Oh, fuck."

"Kriff," Hunter mumbles, and the vibration of his voice against you makes your head fall back. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to catch your breath, but it's impossible, because Hunter's mouth is moving against you, his tongue dragging up your slit.

Your fingers find his hair, and he groans. His mouth is hot and eager, his movements hungry and desperate. He's licking and sucking and nipping at the most intimate parts of you, his tongue slipping past your folds. You can hear the noises he's making, the way his lips and tongue are smacking against you, the sounds he's pulling from your mouth, and it's driving you mad.

Hunter slides his hands under your ass, his palms grabbing handfuls of flesh. He pulls you into him, his face pressed into your center, and you let out a long, low moan, your fingers tugging at his hair.

"Up," he grunts, his mouth still working against you, and it takes you a second to realize what he's asking for. When you raise your hips, his hands move underneath you, and then he's lifting you up.

"What — oh, fuck."

His hands are gripping the tops of your thighs, and he's pulling you onto his face, his mouth opening and closing, his tongue darting out, pressing into your dripping cunt.

You let out a high pitched whine, your legs squeezing around his head, and you can feel him smile against you. He hums in approval, and the vibrations make you squirm. Your fingers twist into his hair, and you start rocking your hips, moving against his mouth.

"Fuck, Hunter."

He groans, and the noise sends a rush of heat through you. He sounds like he's enjoying this as much as you are, and the thought makes you shiver. His tongue swirls around your clit, and when his lips close over the swollen nub, his teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh, your head falls back. You're not sure what you're saying, the words coming out in a rush, a jumbled mess, but Hunter is eating it up.

"That's it," he breathes, and his tongue licks a stripe along your slit. He dips it into you, and a moan rips itself from your throat. He does it again, his tongue curling inside you, his lips closing around your folds, sucking the taste of you into his mouth.

"Please," you gasp, your voice hoarse. Your thighs are shaking, and your heart is racing, and you can't think, not when Hunter is between your legs like this. He's devouring you, his tongue moving against you frantically, as if the only thing that matters is getting you off.

"So good," he mumbles, and his words are slurred. "Taste so good."

"Hunter," you beg, tugging at his hair. The action makes him growl, and he doubles his efforts. He's sucking and licking and biting and kissing every inch of you, his tongue moving against you frantically. Each movement nudges his nose against your clit, and the stimulation has you falling apart.

"Hunter," you whimper. "I'm gonna—"

"Come on, sweetheart," he mumbles. His eyes are closed, and his cheeks are flushed, and his lips are red and slick with your arousal. He's a mess, and the sight makes your head spin. "Let go. I want to taste you."

He wraps his lips around your clit, his teeth scraping over the sensitive flesh, and you can't stop it. The fire in your belly explodes, and the tightness snaps, and your orgasm rushes through you, hot and white, a wave of heat that burns in your blood. Your thighs clamp down around Hunter's head, your toes curling, your back arching, and his name is ripped from your throat. You're dimly aware of your hands pulling his hair, and the noises that are leaving his mouth, but you can't focus on anything, not when he's making you feel this way.

Your muscles finally relax, and you're left trembling, your chest heaving. Hunter slows down, but his tongue doesn't stop, and the gentle strokes are too much for you to handle. You whine, trying to move away from him, but he keeps going, licking and sucking at the skin. You squirm, your body overly sensitive, and the movement is making you dizzy.

"Too much," you gasp, and finally, Hunter stops. He lifts his head, his hair falling into his eyes, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He stares at you, his eyes glazed over, and his gaze is enough to make you shiver. He looks absolutely wrecked.

"You taste incredible," he murmurs, and the compliment makes your core throb. He licks his lips, and his eyes flutter closed. You watch him, unable to look away.

"C'mere," you say, and he nods, crawling up the bed. His chest is flushed, and his abs flex with each movement, the muscle rippling. There's a sheen of sweat covering his skin, and his breathing is shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

He lays on top of you, his body heavy, and the weight is a comfort. Your legs wrap around his waist, and his face buries itself into your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

"You okay?" he asks, his words slurring together, and his arms wrap around your back. You nod, and a moment later, you feel him kiss your neck.

"Never been better," you sigh, your head falling back. He smiles against your skin, and his lips find your shoulder, the soft skin of your collarbone, and then the sensitive spot on your neck.

"That was... Wow," you mumble.

"Good wow, or bad wow?" he asks, his tone playful, and his voice is rough.

"Good wow. Really good wow."

Hunter chuckles, and the sound sends a thrill through you. He pulls back and grins at you, his teeth flashing in the darkness. “I aim to please."

"Mission accomplished," you murmur, and you press your lips to his. He responds eagerly, his mouth moving against yours, his tongue licking into you. You can taste yourself on him, and the thought makes you shiver. He kisses you deeply, his tongue moving slowly, as if he's savoring the taste of you.

"You're incredible," he breathes.

"I could say the same about you," you say, your hand trailing along his jawline. "I think you deserve a commendation for that performance. Maybe a medal, or something."

Hunter laughs, and his head dips back down to your neck. He kisses the skin softly, his lips barely brushing against you, and the action makes a shudder run through you. You're still trying to catch your breath, and your heart is beating wildly in your chest. You can't remember the last time you've felt like this, but it's definitely not a feeling you're ready to give up.

"Let me take care of you," you whisper, and his movements slow.

"I'm okay."

"I want to."

"Sweetheart, it's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Hunter."

"Really, it's okay," he insists.

"Do you not want me to touch you?" you ask, and the thought makes your stomach clench.

"It's not that," he says.

"Then what is it?"

He doesn't answer, and you tilt his head up, forcing him to look at you. His face is still flushed, and the longer you look at him, the more his cheeks turn pink.

"I, uh, finished. When you came," he says, and his voice is almost a whisper.

Your mouth drops open.

"Oh," you say, and he's looking anywhere but at you. You can feel his cock twitch against your leg, and his shoulders are tense, and you realize that the reason he's so nervous is because he's embarrassed.

"Hunter," you say, and he doesn't look at you.

"I'm sorry, I just — I couldn't help it. You were... Kriff, you're beautiful, and the sounds you were making, and the way you were grinding against my mouth, and when you came, I could smell you, and it was too much."

You bite back a smile.

"That's so hot," you whisper, and the way his body shudders against yours tells you he heard you.

"It is?"

"Of course," you say. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, and he practically melts against you. You can't stop yourself from smiling, and you try to hide it by kissing his cheek. This whole time, you'd been so focused on your own pleasure, and the fact that he was enjoying it, too, was enough to make you giddy. "That's incredibly hot."

"Really?"

"Really," you confirm. "Are you kidding? It's not every day someone tells me they got off on going down on me. I should probably write it down. Maybe take a holo, for posterity's sake."

Hunter snorts, and his head drops to your shoulder. He nuzzles the soft skin, his stubble tickling your neck, and he sighs. "I can't believe you."

"I can't believe you."

He chuckles, and his hips roll against yours. He's still hard, and when you rock into him, a groan escapes him. You're not sure if he's realized he's doing it, or if he's even aware of the fact that he's pressing his cock against you, his hips moving slowly, but he's dragging his length along your center, and the feeling of it is making your mind foggy.

"You still feel really good," you murmur, and the compliment makes him shiver. His fingers dig into your hips, his nails digging into the soft skin, and his lips find the spot on your neck where his scent is the strongest. He kisses the area, his mouth open, his tongue hot against you, and when he bites down, your legs squeeze around his waist.

"Hunter," you breathe, and he bites down harder. Your body arches into his, and you can feel his lips spread into a smile against your neck.

"Still so responsive," he murmurs, and his voice rumbles in your ear. You can't stop the whimper that leaves you, and your head falls back, your fingers sliding through his hair.

"Only for you," you tell him, and his hands move to your ass. He pulls your hips into his, his grip tight, and the action causes his clothed length to drag along your dripping center.

"Kriff," Hunter mutters, and his fingers curl into the soft flesh. He rocks his hips into yours, and a long, low moan slips past your lips. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Because of you," you mumble.

His mouth finds your jaw, and he peppers kisses along the soft skin, his hips never stopping their movements. Each roll has the tip of his length pressing into your clit, and each touch makes a small whine escape your lips. You can feel his teeth scraping along your jaw, and then his mouth is covering yours, his tongue licking into you, his teeth catching your bottom lip. He bites down, and a moan tumbles from your throat.

"Fuck, I want you," he mumbles against your mouth, his voice ragged. He's panting, his breathing shallow, and he sounds just as desperate as you feel.

"You can have me," you tell him, and the words seem to snap the last bit of his restraint.

Hunter's fingers dig into your hips, his grip almost bruising, and his lips crash into yours, his mouth open and eager. You kiss him back just as hard, and the two of you are frantic, as if the other one will disappear if you stop.

You reach down, your hands trailing along his torso. You trace the lines of his abs, and his muscles clench under your touch. You trail lower, your fingers dipping into the V of his pelvis, and then your hand is slipping under the waistband of his briefs.

"Fuck," he groans when you wrap your hand around his length. His hips jerk, and his mouth opens, and his breath comes out in a hiss. "Oh, kriff."

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah, it's — yes, fuck," he chokes, and you can't help but smile and tighten your hand. He's slick and warm, and he's leaking all over you. It's hard to gauge his size with only your hand, but you've been feeling him for a while now, and judging by the length and the girth, you're confident in saying he's well endowed. Your body clenches at the thought.

"You're so hard," you murmur, and the way his cock pulses in your palm tells you he likes hearing that.

"You make it difficult not to be," he grunts, his hips bucking, and the movement pushes his length further into your hand. You swipe your thumb over his tip, and his whole body twitches, a low whine escaping him.

"Can I suck your cock?" you ask, and Hunter groans, his head tipping back. His hips snap into your hand, his cock sliding through your fist, and he looks as if he's in pain. You don't think he's even listening to you. "Hunter, can I?"

"Yes, yeah, please," he gasps, his voice cracking.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from grinning, and you push at his chest, trying to get him to roll over. He doesn't seem to realize what you're doing, and it takes a few tries before he's finally getting the hint. He flops onto his back, his head resting on the pillow, and he looks up at you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed.

"Mesh'la," he breathes, and you lean forward, capturing his lips in a quick, searing kiss. You break away before he can respond, and you slide down the bed, hooking your fingers into his briefs and pulling them off. He lifts his hips to help you, and once his cock is free, he lets out a sigh.

You look at him, and your breath catches in your throat.

His body is beautiful, his tan skin glowing in the low light, and his length is thick and heavy, resting against his hip. It's the most erotic thing you've ever seen, and you can't tear your eyes away from him. He's hard and twitching, and the sight is enough to make your mouth water.

You crawl between his legs, and his breath hitches when your hand wraps around his length. You can see him swallowing, and his hands are gripping the sheets. He's watching you, his eyes glazed over and dark, and he's holding his breath, his chest unmoving.

"Breathe," you murmur, and he sucks in a breath. It's shaky, and the sound is loud in the silence of the room, but he's listening. You give him a reassuring smile, and his lips quirk.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time," you admit, and his eyes widen.

"Really?"

"Mmhmm. Is that weird?"

"No," he says, and his voice is strained. "Not weird. I've been thinking about it, too."

You bite your lip, and you stroke his length, your hand twisting around the shaft. A bead of precum leaks from his tip, and Hunter groans, his hips rising off the bed. Your tongue darts out to lick at the fluid, and he makes a strangled noise before his hand finds the back of your head. His fingers thread through your hair, and he pulls you up.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just... I have an idea."

"Yeah?"

"Do you trust me?"

You don't hesitate. "Yes."

"Okay," he says. "Turn around."

"Turn around?"

"Yeah. So you're facing the other way. And then you can sit on my face."

Your jaw drops, and a rush of heat spreads through your body. You know Hunter can see it on you, and his grin is wolfish.

"You did say you wanted to suck my cock," he points out. "I'm just helping."

You let out a laugh, and you can feel your cheeks heating. You nod, and the next thing you know, you're being picked up by the hips and spun around. You let out a yelp, surprised by his strength, but you let him position you as he sees fit. You're on your hands and knees above him, and you can feel his fingers digging into your hips.

"Comfortable?" he asks, and you can feel him breathing. His voice is coming from right behind you, and you nod.

"Yeah."

He places his hands on your hips and guides you down until you're hovering above his mouth. Your breathing is ragged and your pulse is racing, and you can't bring yourself to look down at him. The anticipation is overwhelming, and it's taking all of your self control not to squirm.

Hunter doesn't give you much time to adjust, and the next thing you know, his mouth is on you. You moan, and your head drops, your forehead resting on his pelvis. Your tongue drags over the base of his length, and you hear him groan.

You're not sure how you're going to focus on him, because Hunter's tongue is moving against you, his hands guiding your hips, pulling you down onto his mouth. You can feel his teeth and his lips and his tongue, and his stubble is scratching at the sensitive skin, and it's driving you crazy.

You drag your tongue along his length, and he moans against you. It's enough to encourage you, and you open your mouth, wrapping your lips around his tip. He lets out a shaky sigh, his hips lifting slightly, and the taste of him fills your mouth. You suck him in, taking him as far as you can, and when he hits the back of your throat, a long, low groan echoes through the room.

"Fuck," he breathes.

You can feel his hips shaking, and you know it's taking every ounce of his willpower not to thrust into your mouth. Instead, he pushes his tongue into you, and his thumbs are rubbing circles into your hips.

It takes some work, but the two of you manage to establish a rhythm. He licks and sucks and nips at you while you bob your head up and down his shaft, taking him as far into your mouth as possible. What you can't reach with your mouth, you wrap your hand around, twisting and pumping him. Each movement of your hand is met with a growl from below, and each swipe of his tongue has you moaning around his cock.

"F-fuck, Hunter," you mumble, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and you swallow around him. The action makes him twitch, and a moan tumbles from his mouth, vibrating against your cunt.

"You're incredible," he groans. "You take me so well."

You whine, and you're not sure how much longer you can do this. You're already sensitive from the first round, and Hunter is relentless. His mouth and his tongue are everywhere, and the stimulation is making your mind foggy.

"So good," he murmurs, and his hand slides down, his fingers dipping inside you. You can't hold back the moan that spills from you, and the vibrations make Hunter hiss. He adds a second finger, curling and twisting them, his pace faster and more frantic. His mouth closes over your clit, and his tongue swirls around the swollen bud, his lips sucking it into his mouth.

You moan, and his hips buck. The sudden movement makes him slide further down your throat, and you gag, tears filling your eyes.

"Fuck," he groans. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm sorry."

"M'fine," you slur, your mouth still around his cock, and you suck him harder, your tongue moving over his shaft. Hunter's fingers dig into your hips, his nails biting into the flesh, and his teeth are scraping along your cunt, his tongue moving in time with the movements of his hand.

You can feel the tightness building in your stomach, the familiar feeling of the coil snapping, and you're close, so close. Hunter can sense it, too, because his pace is relentless. He's working you furiously, his tongue moving at a feverish pace, and the way he's licking and sucking at you is enough to make you scream.

You let his cock fall from your mouth, and you press your face into his pelvis, his length rubbing against your cheek.

"Hunter, I'm gonna—"

"Let go, sweetheart," he rasps. "Let go. Come on my face."

The words alone are enough to push you over the edge, and a moment later, you're seeing stars. You let out a sob as your orgasm consumes you, and your legs are trembling, your muscles tightening. A rush of heat washes over you, and Hunter pulls his fingers away to wrap his arm around your waist, holding you steady as you come apart.

He doesn't stop, his tongue moving furiously against you, his mouth open and eager. Through the tears blurring your eyes, you see his cock pulsing, the tip red and swollen, and his thighs are shaking. You know he's close, and you want him to finish with you, so you take his length back into your mouth, sucking and licking him.

Hunter groans, and his tongue works frantically, his hips lifting off the bed. His grip on your waist is bruising, and he's moaning against you, his tongue lapping at your folds, and then he's coming undone, his cock pulsing and spurting hot and sticky into your mouth.

You swallow, and the act alone is enough to send another shudder through him. He's panting against you, his hips jerking, and his breathing is harsh, his chest heaving.

"Kriff," he mutters, his lips dragging against the soft skin of your thighs. "That was — wow."

You smile, and you place a kiss on the head of his length, licking the stray droplet of cum off his slit. Hunter whimpers, his hips lifting, and the sound is so soft and quiet, you can barely hear it.

"Fuck," he groans, and he's still twitching. You give him one last, long lick, and he hisses, his hands squeezing your hips. You sit up and turn around, straddling his hips, and when you see his face, a laugh bubbles up in your chest.

"You look like a mess," you say, and his eyes widen.

"I've just had the life sucked out of me. Give me a break."

"That was so good," you say, and you bend down to kiss him. His lips part, and his tongue finds yours, licking into you. He moans at the taste of himself on your lips, and his hands move to the small of your back. The two of you stay like that for a while, trading lazy kisses and soft touches, enjoying each other's presence. Eventually, Hunter breaks away, his nose brushing against yours.

"We should get some sleep," he says, and he sounds reluctant. "It's been a long day, and the others could be back anytime."

"Oh," you say, and your heart sinks. You'd forgotten the others would be returning in the morning, and that meant the night would be over. Hunter is right; the two of you needed rest. You weren't ready for it to end, though.

"We can talk about it in the morning," he says, his tone gentle, and his hand moves to stroke your hair.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," you say.

Hunter turns and places you on the bed, and you lie back and watch as he stands and pads naked first to your bag, then the bathroom. When he comes back, he's got a damp cloth, and he kneels on the bed next to you. You expect him to hand it to you so you can clean yourself up, but instead, he uses it to gently wipe you down. The action is so tender and intimate, it makes your heart ache.

"There," he says, a few moments later. He tosses the cloth towards the bathroom, and then he's back, pulling the covers over the both of you.

He turns on his side and pulls you into him, and you let him. You rest your head on his chest, and his arms wrap around your waist. He lets out a sigh, and his nose buries itself in your hair.

"This is nice," you mumble.

"Yeah, it is," Hunter agrees, and the two of you lapse into silence. You can feel your eyes growing heavy, and the steady rise and fall of his chest is comforting. His hand is moving up and down your spine, his fingers tracing patterns along the soft skin, and each touch is lulling you to sleep.

You're drifting, the sounds of the fire and Hunter's breathing fading away, when the sound of your datapad beeping brings you back. You roll over and grab it from the bedside table, squinting at the display.

"It's Tech," you say, and Hunter grunts, his eyes fluttering open. 

I can't reach Hunter. Are you two okay?

You type a quick reply. We're fine. Just fell asleep.

I need to talk to him. Please wake him up.

"He needs to talk to you," you say, and you can hear Hunter grumbling. He opens one eye, and his lip curls.

"Can't it wait?"

"Apparently not," you say, and Hunter groans.

"Fine," he says, and he snatches the datapad from your hand, his fingers flying across the keypad. A moment later, his mouth quirks up into a grin, and he holds out the screen so you can read the message.

The repairs to the engine are taking longer than I anticipated, Tech had written. I estimate we will be ready to leave in about 18 hours. I apologize for the inconvenience. Will try to keep you apprised of the situation.

Underneath it was Hunter's message. Take all the time you need. We're not going anywhere.

Your mouth drops open, and Hunter's smile is growing wider. You read the message again and grin. 

"We have 18 hours?" you ask, and you're unable to contain the excitement in your voice.

Hunter nods and sets the datapad back on the nightstand. You can't see his face clearly in the dark, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. "Guess so."

You let out a giggle and throw yourself at him, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. He lets out a huff of surprise, but his hands come to rest on your hips, and he squeezes them gently.

"Well then. Let's not waste them."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

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@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

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@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms

I like your theory better xD

Hunter Cockblock BadBatch ✨

This is such an amazing story!!! Love it!

When You Wake

Written for the @summer-of-bad-batch prompts "Hold still" and "Don't avoid the question."

Hunter wonders what he will tell Omega after she wakes up from her injuries. Set during Plan 99. Angst, grief, overall sads. ~1895 words.

---

“Please, CT-9901. Hold still,” AZI said. Hunter knew the medical droid’s voice was meant to be soothing, but the words were like shattered transparisteel, tearing at his ears.

Hunter took a deep breath. Tried to listen to the droid. But his eyes kept darting to where Omega lay huddled limply on the bed, still unconscious. Wrecker sat at her bedside, trying to remain strong for her. But the brace around his neck, the slump of his shoulders, the raggedness of the rise and fall of his chest all showed he was barely doing better than she was. 

“Why won’t she wake up?” Hunter asked in a hoarse voice as the droid continued placing a sturdy wrap around his chest.

“She will,” AZI said. “You must give her time. She experienced a concussion and pulmonary contusions. She will recover, but even with my care recovery is not instantaneous. All of your injuries are serious, and will take time to mend.”

Hunter bit his lip as the droid finished wrapping his chest. Between the extra support and the medication the droid had already given him, the pain was finally receding. 

The physical pain, anyway.

Don’t think about him. Don’t think about the fall. Don’t --

“Am I good?” Hunter muttered.

“Yes, CT-9901. You will make a full recovery with appropriate rest. Would you like me to stay in here and continue monitoring Omega, or --”

“Go. Please.”

Hunter exhaled heavily. The droid had saved them; Hunter didn’t know what would have happened to Omega or Wrecker without AZI’s work, but Hunter couldn’t stand looking at him and his cheerful demeanor a moment longer. 

“I will be waiting in the bar, should anything in her condition change.” The droid hovered out of sight, his servos buzzing and grating. Everything felt too loud right now, too sharp, too much.

Hunter stiffly got to his feet, resting a hand briefly on Wrecker’s back for support. Together they looked down at Omega, neither of them able to speak.

Hunter shuddered, remembering the sight and smell of her little cap, soaked through with blood. Luckily AZI had been able to stitch the wound in her scalp and clean her hair, though Hunter could still pick up a faint whiff of dried blood in the thick, close air of the back room. 

How could she look so calm right now, like nothing had happened?

When everything had happened?

Wrecker painstakingly stood up, face twisting with effort. “Here. You -- you should sit with her. I’ll go.”

Hunter looked into his brother’s face, seeing puffy, reddened eyes. “But what do I say to her? When she wakes up?”

Wrecker shook his head, tears threatening again. “I don’t know. I can’t -- don’t -- don’t make me.” He grimaced, looking past Hunter as if seeing something far away. “She won’t wanna see me. I could’ve stopped him, Hunter -- I could’ve saved --”

Wrecker, get him up here!

Hunter reached out a trembling hand. Laid it on Wrecker’s shoulder. Shook his head. “No you couldn’t,” he said, voice dull and empty. “And neither could I.”

---

They’d talked about it once, days before their first mission.

Tech glowed. He scribbled his thoughts on the walls, plans a dozen times over, a manic burst of ideas. There were plans where Hunter infiltrated, where Wrecker smashed or exploded, where Tech used the Seppies’ own droids against them, where Crosshair set off a chain reaction with his mirrors. They strategized long into the night, nearly giddy with making up more plans: some of them insane, some of them just good clean fun blowing up clankers. 

Until Crosshair swiped Tech’s datapad five hours past lights out, scrolling down idly and then looking puzzled. “You haven’t gone over this one. What’s Plan 99? There’s no details, nothing else, just the number.” 

Tech grabbed it back. “Ah. It’s -- it’s nothing.”

“Tech, it’s always something with you,” said Hunter. 

“Yeah. Don’t avoid the question,” Wrecker said, yawning. “Unless Plan 99’s going to bed an’ getting some shut-eye. These plans are fun, Tech, but I’m never gonna remember ‘em all.”

Tech frowned. “Very well. You recall 99, our fellow defective clone.”

“Old 99,” Wrecker said, his eyes going soft. “He was a hero.”

“He showed those regs a thing or two,” Crosshair said, nodding respectfully. “But what’s he got to do with our plans? He’s been gone a long time.”

Hunter sighed. “I think I know what it means.” He gave Tech a long look. “Self-sacrifice, is it?”

Tech nodded. “We are soldiers and clones. Statistically speaking, it is highly unlikely that we will die of old age. I had thought that discussing it now might bring down the mood, so to speak, so I had not mentioned it before.” He looked around at them, the smiles from a few minutes ago all faded. “I see I was correct.”

“You all can be emotional about it if you want,” Crosshair scoffed. “But I wouldn’t miss any of you.”

“Bantha shit,” Wrecker said, punching Crosshair in the shoulder. Crosshair winced, rubbing his shoulder hard and scowling. “You’d miss me the most, and you know it!”

“That is irrelevant, if the mission requires it,” Tech said. “As it well may, in service of the greater good.”

“Look, Tech, don’t tell me the odds,” Hunter said. “Let’s just do our best to get through the war. This squad is something special. The regs might call it being defective, but I call it being better. That’s how we’re gonna get through this war -- being better together. So that means Plan 99 should only be the ultimate last resort. Understood?”

“Understood,” Wrecker and Crosshair said.

“Of course,” Tech agreed, blinking and adjusting his goggles. “I have no desire to implement Plan 99. It is only that it is a possibility that must be considered.”

---

A possibility.

An eventuality.

Hunter sat in the chair, his skin crawling, his mind blank hissing static.

Omega still lay unconscious, her heartbeat pulsing faintly, a soft rhythm he could sense beneath her gentle exhalations. The rhythm was slightly off from what he had attuned himself to on countless nights on the Marauder, its pattern disturbed by injury. But AZI had said she would be waking up, and soon.

What could Hunter possibly say to her?

He sat there, desperately hoping she would wake up and be all right, desperately hoping she would stay asleep. If she kept sleeping, he wouldn’t have to see her face when she woke up and realized Tech was gone.

She breathed in. Breathed out. He reached out, gently brushing a lock of hair back from her cheek. His hand froze, and he pulled it back.

He closed his eyes, but then there was Tech’s voice in his mind, resolute, determined, resigned. When have we ever followed orders? 

He couldn’t dwell on that. Couldn’t listen to it again. He reached out, opening his senses, desperately seeking distraction. Anything to keep the memory from playing back again and again. His leg twitched, jittering up and down as he opened his senses as fully as he could.

The room air pressed in on him, warm and stuffy and suffocating. A bead of sweat dripped down his cheek, having slipped past his bandanna. The whine of Cid’s neon lights in the next room buzzed and prickled in his ears. He took a deep breath of the warm air, pulling in the smell of stale alcohol, crumbs of Mantell mix ground into the floorboards, hints of blood and sweat and body odor of a dozen different species. 

The floor in the hallway creaked, the sound consistent with someone stopping at the door and looking inside the room. Hunter didn’t bother turning around to see who it was. He knew it was Cid, between the pattern of the footfalls, the pitch of the creaking, the metallic scents of Trandoshan pheromones. His nose twitched, picking up a difference in Cid’s scent. Something was off with her pheromones, but he didn’t know enough about her species to guess what it meant. Maybe it was worry for the kid. Maybe it was regret. Maybe she was just hungry. 

He didn’t know, didn’t care. The slow heavy footsteps started up again, kept going down the hall.

His hand slid to his gauntlet, unsheathing his blade. Twirling the blade had become a habit long ago, as unconscious and automatic as Crosshair chewing his toothpicks or Tech scrolling his datapad. He hesitated, the blade’s weight and heft wholly familiar in his hand, and yet something seemed off. 

He twirled it lazily. No, nothing was wrong with the knife. He picked up the rhythm, blade spinning dangerously between his fingers -- 

Kriff. The blade clattered to the floor, narrowly avoiding slicing through his glove. It rattled him, looking down at it laying between his feet. 

Nothing was wrong with the blade. It was wrong with him.

Hunter picked up the blade, shoving it roughly back into his gauntlet. What was he doing? Stupid distractions when he should be thinking about Omega. About what he could possibly say to her.

I’m sorry, kid. We couldn’t save him. Nobody could. (But what if Wrecker had been able to get him up in time? What if we’d been faster getting out? What if we’d waited for backup?)

I’m sorry, Omega. Tech knew it was the only way.  (Did he? He was a genius. He should have figured something else out! How could he have fucked up like this? How could he leave us like this?)

I’m sorry I failed him. And you. And Crosshair. (Crosshair should’ve come with us, should’ve left the Empire when he had the chance. Then we would’ve never gone to Eriadu. This is his damn fault, all of it!)

I’m sorry I wasn’t a better leader. I’m so sorry, kid. 

(It’s on me. All of it. All of it.)

The pain roared within him, but it wasn’t the pain of broken ribs and torn muscles. It went deeper than that, dug itself deep into the very heart of him, emptied him out of everything but guilt and loss and disbelief. It took his breath away. He wrapped his arms around his injured chest, fingers digging into his sides, squeezing hard enough that the physical pain broke through again. He threw himself into it, drowned himself in the way his body jangled and ached.

He panted, grimacing. This he could deal with. This he could live with. But the emptiness, the awful truth that Tech was gone -- how was he supposed to live with that? How was he supposed to help Omega through it?

Hunter slumped forward, releasing his grip, taking a deep, jagged breath. His head swam.

He didn’t know how to do it.

He was going to do it anyway.

Hunter swallowed, nodding, and sat up despite the way his body protested. He watched Omega resting, her young face forgetful for just a little while longer.

He’d be there for her, no matter what. His resolve hardened, and he thought of sunny days on Pabu, the sound of waves on the beach, a town of people who did not practice war. He thought of childhood, something none of them had ever known. 

He hadn’t been able to save Crosshair from himself or the Empire.

He hadn’t been able to save Tech.

He’d save Omega if it killed him.

“I’m gonna keep you safe, kid,” Hunter whispered. “I promise.”

I love them so much!

There's a missing scene of them where they're hugging and laughing until they're crying

Goodbye

Summary: Hunter has recently learned that he can sense Tech’s ghost and has shared that information with his family. Omega comes to terms with Tech’s death with the help of her brother.

Notes: This story follows canon and deals with Tech’s death. If you’re not comfortable reading about that I would give this story a miss. This also follows along with some of the other stories I’ve written. You can read them here: Hope; Sunrise; Sunset and Tested

Word Count: 1431

****************************************************

Omega sat on her bed, holding her fallen brother’s goggles. She hadn’t done this in a while. She had been content to let them sit on her nightstand, silently watching over her. A thick layer of dust had collected on the edges of the broken glass. The light, formally glowing red, was now dark.

If she squinted, they would sometimes look whole, and she should imagine the chocolate-colored eyes behind them looking back at her. But not today.

Hunter had told them about his mission with Rex and newest encounter with Ventress. And that he had sensed Tech or Tech’s ghost or whatever it was.

Initially she had been thrilled. It was like getting him back again. Hunter had even pointed out that he was at the table, sitting with them, laughing with them. But in the dark, in the quiet, Omega realized that he wasn’t back. He wasn’t here. Not in the way she wanted.

There had always been a small part of her that had hoped. Hoped that he had found something to catch himself on, fallen into water, been saved by some miracle and now the reality of it crashed over her. He was gone. He had fallen to his death for them, and he would never show up on an idle afternoon, scratched, maimed, but alive.

A tear fell onto the goggles as this realization hit her like a fresh wave of grief.

She heard a creak outside her door and didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Are you okay,” Hunter asked softly, crossing to the bed and sitting next to her. His palms were in his lap, not wanting to intrude too directly onto her grief, but still close enough if she needed him.

Omega had always found Hunter’s lack of touch frustrating. She knew he loved her, knew he wanted to hug her, comfort her, but he wasn’t capable in the way that Wrecker was.

She sniffed in reply and dissolved, sobbing over her most prized possession, the last remnant of her long-lost brother.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Hunter whispered, putting his arm around her. He squeezed her close to him, resting his chin on the top of her head and holding her. She sank into his arm, drinking in the safety and warmth. She would have been surprised by his sudden affection was she not wholly consumed with sorrow.

They stayed like that for a while in silence, except for Omega’s shuddered breaths. She felt where the tears had fallen on her cheeks, as though they were permanently etched in her skin like her brother’s tattoo. The sun was streaming into her golden room. When she finally sat up, she wiped her eyes and exhaled deeply. She looked down at the goggles, ran her finger over the shattered lens, and gently placed them on the nightstand once more.

“I thought he might come back. Hoped,” she mumbled.

Hunter nodded but didn’t say anything.

“Where are Wrecker and Crosshair?” she asked, suddenly realizing how quiet the house was.

Hunter sighed, “Wrecker went fishing to clear his head. Crosshair is painting at the crest. Said he’d be back later. It’s difficult information to…”

Hunter paused and chuckled “of course,” he said to no one. He stood up from the bed and sat on the floor facing her.

“He’s here, if you want to talk,” he said with a smile at the space he had vacated next to Omega.

“I can’t sense him the way…”

“I’ll translate,” Hunter leaned forward, took her hand and placed it on the spot next to her on the bed. “he’s here,” he said gently, sitting back down.

“I don’t feel him,” she said, staring at the nothingness next to her.

“I know,” Hunter said sadly. “He asked how you are… oh sorry. Yeah, okay Tech.” Hunter looked at her, amused. “He said I need to translate verbatim,”

Omega giggled and sat up straighter. She noticed Hunter close his eyes and lowered his head as though not to intrude into a private conversation.

“How are you, Omega,” Hunter said, his voice punctuated in Tech’s familiar rhythm.

“I’m okay…Tech,” she said, feeling silly but also lighter than she had in a while.

“I’m very…proud of how you have grown up. You are an excellent pilot,”

Omega’s eyes swam with tears, “thank you.” she looked down at her hands and across to Tech’s goggles, “I’m sorry we couldn’t save you, Tech,” she said, feeling a weight dop into her chest. She looked at Hunter whose face had crumpled.

Omega had never seen Hunter cry, although Wrecker had assured her that he did, had, many times after she was taken; When he thought no one else was around. She was aware in that moment how young her brothers were and how much they had endured in their short lives.

“I would make the same decision again and again if it meant you were safe,” Hunter as Tech said.

“Did it…hurt?” she asked, finally voicing her greatest fear.

“I didn’t feel anything, Omega. I was not and am not in pain. I am lucky that I am somehow able to watch you live your lives in peace,”

Hunter looked up at the space next to Omega and smiled.

“Are you always here?” Omega asked hopefully.

“Not always. I seem to pop in every now and then. It’s not something I control. It would be fascinating to do further research. However, in my current state that doesn’t seem possible,”

Omega giggled; Tech was always trying to discover more.  “Where are you when you’re not with us?” she asked and Hunter looked at her, surprised, as though it had never occurred to him to ask that question before.

“I seem to go to a strange, void space. It is black with white, glowing arches like some kind of ancient star map. I’m always alone but can hear other voices. It is quite an odd but not unpleasant sensation. Regardless, I much prefer to be on Pabu with you and…”

“Phee?” Omega supplied.

“Why…ah…yes…I do pop in on her from time to time,”

“Does she know?” Omega asked, directing the question at Hunter. He shook his head but kept his eyes closed and head down.

“Perhaps you can help Hunter with that particular conversation,” Hunter as Tech said.

“I’d be happy to,” Omega said.

The light was streaming through her window now, a beam of sparkling dust illuminated the space next to her and for a second, she could imagine Tech in his armor, looking down at her with a smile on his lips.

“I love you, Tech,” she said to the nothingness.

“And I you,” Hunter responded in Tech’s familiar tone.

There was a pause before Hunter raised his head and blinked open his eyes, focusing on the spot. Omega knew Tech was gone. She could see it on his face.

“Did that help?” he asked, concern in his voice.

She smiled and launched herself at him, hugging him around the neck. “Yes. Thank you.” She said, tears dripping onto his shoulder.

“I was just the translator,” he said softly. He picked himself up and wiped his hands over his face and through his hair absentmindedly.

“Should we go and see Phee?” Omega asked excitedly. She felt so light, happier than she had since she heard the news, she wanted to spread it as far as possible.

“I dunno, Kid,” Hunter said solemnly. “I’m not sure I can break anyone else’s heart right now. Maybe we wait until Crosshair and Wrecker get used to the idea.”

Omega nodded in understanding and took his hand. “you’re not breaking hearts, Hunter. You’re giving hope.” She said with a smile.

“It doesn’t feel like that,” he said quietly. He squeezed her hand twice and let go, crossing the common room to the kitchen beyond.

Omega looked back at the spot where Tech had been. At least, where she thought he had been. His goggles sat in a pool on sunlight, the broken glass which looked grey and devoid of life before glowed yellow and she gasped.

She knew she would carry the loss of him with her forever. It was burnt into her skin like a brand. But knowing he was watching, that he was proud, and that he loved her as much as she loved him, she realized that it was enough. The grief would never fully leave her, but it took up less space, knowing she could speak to him again.

“Goodbye, Tech,” she whispered into the room as she followed Hunter to the kitchen beyond.

So… when are we getting a new show/shorts of Hunter and Rex returning the force sensitive kids? Cos I need that, yesterday!

Hunter, why?!😭 Well, at least Crosshair can give some burns as well as he takes them yeah I'll see myself out.

Someone stop me-

Please someone stop me-

Summer of Bad Batch Week 11

Prompt: "I didn't think we'd make it this far"

Word Count: 600+

Tags: fluff, sad, light angst, reminiscing

Wrecker sat lazily on the balcony of the Batchers new home. Staring out over the ocean as the light of the moon sent shimmers over the waves. Living on Kamino all his life he had only seen storms and torrential waves crashing against each other like a violent mess of salt and seaweed. This stark contrast was much more beautiful though. And if he was being honest he would have happily sat here for the rest of his life and simply watched as the waves rolled in and out. The sun and moon taking turns to cast their glow onto the deep blue.

He heard the ‘ppst’ of the door as it slid open and shut again, someone walking outside to join him. He looked up to see Hunter sitting beside him on the other chair they had sitting on their porch.

“It’s beautiful ain’t it?” he remarks nodding his head towards the view as he speaks.

“Much better than what we used to see all the time on Kamino”

“Yeah!” he exclaimed

The two of them sat, listening to the wind and the wildlife and the sea. Relaxing into this blissful state, one that was unfamiliar but very very welcome.

“Hey Hunter…is this real?”

“What do you mean?” Hunter asks as he turns to look at Wrecker, bringing his head up from where it rested on his clasped hands.

“Well, I mean, this sometimes just feels too good to be true, y’know!”

Wrecker tilted his head and pursed his lips for a moment “When I first got my scar-“ he pointed at the side of his face, the light pink and white puckered scar that stretch like a bolt of lightening across his features “-I thought I was done for, that explosion was nasty and I was in the med bay for five days. But I made it and we went on to do so many more missions”

He stopped looking away from the sea to the terracotta that made up the balcony floor “And after that, it was just mission after mission. And I’d never thought I’d do anything else. And yet here we are. Living all domestic like, like the civilians we used to help”

He pauses again, trying to think about what he wanted to say. Hunter could almost hear the gears turning in his head as he watched Wrecker think. He didn’t interrupt him. He wanted Wrecker to say what he needed to say. It wasn’t often he was serious like this

“I guess I just never thought we’d make it this far. There were so many times I thought we were gonners. I don’t like sayin’ it. But it’s true. And here we are…well most of us”

Both of their thoughts turn to Tech. He was the only one of them who hadn’t made it this far. The only one who never got to see the end of their war. The war they had been born to fight in. The war they had no say in except for at the end of a blaster.

“I bet he would have liked what we’ve built. How much Crosshair’s changed and how much Omega has grown. Bet he would have been real proud”

He lifts his chest as he says that last sentence. He could always see the good in things even when they felt bleak and hopeless. It brought Hunter’s spirits up as well, even if it was only slightly.

Like Omega, Wrecker had a way of lighting up anything he was around. Conversations felt lighter, rooms felt brighter and bleak situations felt more accomplishable.

“Yeah, I think he would have. And neither did I. Sometimes felt like we would be soldiers until our dying day. And really we were. The Empire thinks were dead anyway”

“HAH! Jokes on them. Were out here living the life whilst they do fancy pants government things on Coruscant!"

Hunter chuckled and he turned his head back to watching the sea as Wrecker did the same

They didn’t think they would make it this far. But they did.

Body Check

Wrecker doesn’t take any prisoners when he’s upset. I don’t envy Hunter…

Taglist: @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @littlefeatherr @the-bad-batch-baroness @antoinettesb @neyswxrld @elephantwoman4 @goblininawig @sevdidntdie @proteatook

Hyperspace Stories #10

Read the comic Hyperspace Stories #10 online here (full comic).

Writer: Michael Moreci | Penciller: Riccardo Facinni | Colorist: Nicola Righi | Cover artist: Tom Fowler | Publisher: Dark Horse Comics (November 1, 2023)

Never gonna finish this WIP but I like the idea of it 😂 They borrowed Cody's speeder the very first time they worked for him

I can't believe we never saw Wrecker with one of those rotary blasters. Wasted opportunity!

Don't ask me what Hunter is planning to do with his knife 🙃

Test Subjects: Part 4

previous next

Relationships: Crosshair & Echo & Hunter & Tech & Wrecker

Content Warnings: Blood and injury, Drug Usage, Emetophobia

Summary:

After Crosshair notices him, Hunter has no choice but to fight his brother. How much harm they end up doing to each other depends entirely on how fast Hunter can wide the fight against his drugged brother.

Word count: 1,650

Read on Ao3

Crosshair tightens his grip on his rifle, squinting through the scope. He feels like he's dying, like they're about to kill him.

They're everywhere, the droids. He can hear them, but they're hiding. Or maybe his eyesight is going. Crosshair feels like something's started to feel wrong with his eyesight.

He doesn't know when the blurriness started, probably around the time his chest started hurting. But remembering why that happened is impossible. All Crosshair knows is that he's surrounded, that if he drops his guard for even a second he's dead.

Crosshair's aware that he's panicking, but can't stop it from happening. Not with the droids chattering constantly, gaining on him slowly from places he can't see them.

That's when a droid dodges Crosshair's shot, ducking behind boxes.

Something's special about this one, Crosshair keeps missing it. Other droids come to its aid, but Crosshair takes those out. But the weird droid keeps dodging.

Crosshair's certain he hits it, but then it moves again. And then it disappears. He waits for it, scanning the area he last saw it. Nothing. It's just gone.

That's when Crosshair hears it, chattering right behind him. Crosshair turns slowly, moving to a crouching position. It speaks as Crosshair watches it, low and threatening.

He's not sure, but Crosshair thinks it must be a commando droid. Quick as he can, Crosshair gets up, telling the thing to back off before shooting at it.

Crosshair's good with his rifle, he should have hit. But the droid is faster than him, moving close and grabbing his blaster. It twists the weapon out of Crosshair's grip, bending Crosshair's wrist painfully.

He's not going down that easy. Crosshair charges the droid, slamming into its chest. It kicks him off before Crosshair can pin it, but Crosshair rolls out of the way of any further assault. He can taste blood pooling in his mouth.

“If you're going to be dificult, clanker, I'm all to happy to let things get ugly,” Crosshair snarls with a grin, pushing up off the ground and sprinting at the commando droid again.

Crosshair is going to destroy that thing, no matter what.

--

Getting the blaster from Crosshair was easy enough, his grip surprisingly weak in his current state. But then he ran at Hunter. Crosshair isn't usually this direct in hand to hand combat. He's desperate and that makes him dangerous.

Hunter has to subdue him, and do so fast.

Hunter shakes him off, Crosshair mumbling a bunch of garbled words after being thrown to the ground. It hurts to see his brother reduced to this.

Crosshair lunges at Hunter a second time, sending them both crashing to the ground. Hunter swears, grabbing hold of Crosshair's arm and twisting it behind his back.

Without any regard for his own safety, Crosshair yanks his arm from Hunter's grip, putting some distance between them. Then Crosshair yells, not in a way Hunter has seen from him often and comes at Hunter with a kick.

Crosshair is immediately thrown off balance when Hunter grabs his leg, hitting the roof with his shoulder. Somehow, Crosshair manages to use the momentum to kick Hunter's legs out from under him, landing Hunter on his injured thigh. Hunter bites back a cry as he tries to pin Crosshair.

Even in his drugged state, Crosshair is agile, dodging Hunter and getting up again in one go. He kicks at Hunter, hitting him in the ribs. Even through the armor, Hunter feels something crack.

Crosshair makes the mistake of leaning over Hunter too far, making headbutting him in the stomach far too easy. He stumbles. Hunter uses his distraction to tackle him. Crosshair's positively feral as Hunter tries to pin his hands to his chest, trying anything to get away from Hunter. Punching him in the ribs, Hunter manages to distract Crosshair.

Just as Hunter almost has Crosshair secured, a familiar hum draws his attention.

Crosshair's grabbed his vibro-knife and is trying to jam it into Hunter's shoulder. Hunter barely rolls out of the way, blade scraping along the roof as Crosshair misses.

“Crosshair,” Hunter warns, knowing that his brother can't hear him.

He's always been better with a knife than Crosshair, so after a well timed lunge, Hunter's managed to wrestle it out of his brother's grip.

The only issue is, Crosshair isn't ready to let Hunter have the weapon back. He grabs for it, wrapping his hand around the blade. The thick smell of fresh blood hits Hunter in an instant, almost making his drop the weapon.

This isn't what he wanted, he didn't want to hurt Crosshair like this.

But he can't let him have the knife. Hunter pulls it from Crosshair's grip, making him hiss. Crosshair doesn't even wait a second before trying to punch Hunter, leaving him no time to sheath his vibro-knife.

Blocking Crosshair's swing, the knife skids along Crosshair's vambrace, splitting skin on his upper arm in a gap in Crosshairs armor. Hunter swears, throwing the knife to the other side of the roof. It'll do less harm that far away from them.

This time when Hunter twists Crosshair's arm behind his back, his brother does go down, writhing the entire way. He can just about hit Hunter's back if he kicks his legs backwards far enough and he does that repeatedly. Hunter can ignore that, used to the move from when their arguments get physical.

With Crosshair flat on his stomach, Hunter can see why he took a stim. A blaster wound on the back of Crosshair's right shoulder, bleeding haphazardly stopped by gauze that's been stuffed into the wound.

Hunter's considering how to move Crosshair who's clearly still out for blood, when a blaster shot interrupts Hunter's thought. Droids have gathered as the two vode fought, now trying to shoot them off the roof.

“Kark,” Hunter hisses, setting his blaster to stun and pointing it at Crosshair's back. He'd hoped to have more time to consider this, but it will have to do.

The stun bold hits Crosshair. Rather than going limp, Crosshair screams, every muscle in his body tensing as the bolt sends a spasm through him. Hunter freezes. That isn't right.

A shot from a droid narrowly misses Hunter, forcing him to almost release Crosshair. Hesitantly, Hunter fires a second stun bolt into Crosshair's back. Crosshair cries out again, a horrible mix of pain and fear. It hurts Hunter's ears, it makes him feel sick. The way Crosshair's body cramps and shakes is worse this time, but he remains awake.

Hunter can't bring himself to try stunning Crosshair again.

Not seeing any better option, Hunter has to try fighting off the droids whilst keeping his brother from doing something stupid. The edge of the roof is a little way away, so Hunter is forced to lean away from Crosshair. He keeps one boot planted on his back, the other somewhat gentler on the back of Crosshair's neck.

It's hardly a firm hold, but Hunter can shoot at their enemies this way. Crosshair seems weakened by the stun bolts, if only from the violent way his body reacted to them.

Hunter's almost eliminated all the droids when Crosshair slips away from him. Hunter swears, unsure if he should focus on the last few droids or his aggressive, drugged up brother. Crosshair makes the decision for him, opting to crawl away from Hunter.

That's all the time Hunter needs to pick off the three B1's left behind. He turns to Crosshair, ready to fight him off if he charges again, only to be met by the sight of his little brother on his knees, desperately clawing at his helmet.

It comes off, clattering across the roof towards Hunter. Not half a second later, Crosshair's throwing up, barely able to hold himself up on his hands and knees. Hunter grabs him quickly once he's done, not wanting Crosshair to collapse into the pool of vomit. The sour smell hits Hunter hard, only thing keeping him from mirroring Crosshair's action being the years of exposure to the stench of battlefields Hunter's had.

Crosshair fights against Hunter's hold weakly, squirming and clawing at Hunter. Sweat has glued Crosshair's hair to his head, his skin feeling far too hot, especially since Crosshair tends to run cold. His heartbeat hasn't slowed in the slightest and he's still breathing in short gasps.

He looks sick, really sick. Like the first time they trained off Kamino and Crosshair ended up in the medbay with something he caught outside of Tipoca City's sterile walls. Hunter isn't going to waste any more time, Grabbing his knife and Crosshair's helmet, then slinging his brother over his shoulder with a muttered apology.

At least this way, Crosshair won't choke if he's sick again.

Not wanting to spend an unnecessary amount of time finding an alternative rout off of the roof, Hunter jumps down onto the ventilation unit. Pain shoots through Hunter's knees and injured leg at the impact, making him stagger. Before he can decide against it, he's jumped the rest of the way down to the landing platform. As the same discomfort hits him again, Hunter is forced to him knees.

Crosshair groans, Hunter's shoulder having hit him in the chest.

“Trikayc, Cross'ika. I'll try and be more careful,” Hunter sighs, getting back off his knees. Crosshair responds by trying to push himself away from Hunter, getting absolutely nowhere with his weak effort.

Hunter's comlink pings, allowing Echo's voice to reach him. He's relieved to learn that they've got Wrecker, Echo even managing to lift Hunter's spirits somewhat with a comment he makes.

With Crosshair too weak to fight back, all Hunter has to do is get him out of the base alive. Biting the inside of his cheek, Hunter starts running, ignoring the way his body protests. Crosshair's life might very well depend on Hunter getting him to the Marauder as soon as possible.

Mando'a Translation:

Vod/vode – sibling/siblings Trikayc – sorry 'ika - diminutive suffix, can be added to a name as a very familiar or childhood form

'twas a tough mission...

Third time I redraw the same ref for a different fandom 😂

"The Bad Batch" Timeline: Explained

I've had some interesting conversations with folks on Twitter over the last few weeks about the timeline of "The Bad Batch" show: How much time passes between any given episodes? How old is Omega during S1 or S3? etc.

The short answer is that the entire show takes place over 18-24 months*

(*NOTE: All timeline discussion excludes the TBB epilogue at the end of episode 3.15 "The Cavalary Has Arrived.")

(EDIT: I’m also calculating time based on Earth days/weeks/months. I recognize that time in the Star Wars universe likely varies from planet to planet, so I just want to clarify we’re going off IRL time calculations: 7 days to a week, ~30 days to a month, 12 months to a year. I’m also not referring to any external sources (except Wookieepedia, but that’s more to confirm the timeline, not to create it), so I don’t care what some guidebook says. I’m going based on what happens in the show itself.)

Wookieepedia lists Hemlock's death as 18 BBY, so at least 12-24 months pass between 1.01 "Aftermath" in 19 BBY and Hemlock's death in the series finale.

However, the two biggest and clearest indications of how much time passes during the show is Mayday's comments in 2.12 "The Outpost" and Omega's tally marks in 3.01 "Confined."

In 2.12, Mayday says he's been posted on Barton IV for over a year, and based on his comments, he wasn't posted on Barton IV until after The Clone Wars ended. So, it's been at least a year -- but probably more like 14-15 months because Mayday says "over a year" -- since the events of 1.01 "Aftermath."

Then after the time-jump during 3.01, Omega has about 5.5 months of tally marks. Rounding up from when Crosshair was arrested and taken to Tantiss, about 6 months have passed since 2.12.

So, between those two indicators, at least 18 months have passed between 1.01 "Aftermath" and the end of 3.01 "Confined." But, realistically, it's probably been more like 20-21 months.

Then, the rest of S3 takes place over a pretty compressed timeframe, as no more than a few days seem to pass between episodes. I'll get into this more later, but I'm guessing that the end of 3.01 "Confined" to the big showdown on Tantiss in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived" takes place over the course of 1-2 months.

Again, it's confirmed that 18-24 months pass between the series premiere and the series finale.

But, my best guess is that the entire show takes place over 22-23 months based on in-universe clues.

THE SEASON 1 TIMELINE BREAKDOWN

Overall, I'm guessing that Season 1 takes place over the course of 4-6 months. I think this is much shorter than some people think, but it makes sense to me based on context clues.

1.01 "Aftermath" takes place over the course of a few days, and then 1.02 "Cut & Run" to 1.06 "Decommissioned" all seem to take place in a very compressed timeframe. No more than a day or two seems to pass between episodes, and no more than a day or two passes within each episode.

So, I'm thinking the end of 1.06 is takes place about a month after 1.01.

Then we get our first notable time-jump between 1.06 and 1.07.

1.07 "Battle Scars" opens with the Bad Batch having done at least 10 more jobs for Cid since we last saw them in 1.06. (FYI: this is based on Omega and Wrecker's order of 20 cartons of Mantell Mix).

However Cid talks about the Corellia job like it wasn't too long ago, and if we average 2-3 days per job (which seems realistic based on what we see in the show), then about a month has passed between 1.06 and 1.07.

So, at the beginning of 1.07, I'm saying about two months have passed since 1.01 "Aftermath."

Then 1.08 "Reunion" and 1.09 "Bounty Lost" take place immediately after 1.07.

Skipping over 1.10, we get another notable time-jump between 1.09 "Bounty Lost" and 1.11 "Devil's Deal." The biggest indicator is Crosshair's recovery from his injuries on Bracca.

Assuming at least a month for him to recover and be stationed on Ryloth with Rampart & co., that means at least three months have passed between 1.01 "Aftermath" and 1.11 "Devil's Deal."

Even though we don't have any firm timeline, I don't think more than 2 months passed between 1.09 and 1.11, because everyone on Ryloth talks like it hasn't been that long since the Clone Wars ended.

Anyway, then 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth" takes place immediately after 1.11.

Now, we know that 1.14-1.16 all take place over the course of a few days. So that just leaves us with how much time passes between 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth" and 1.14 "War-Mantle."

Given that Rampart gave Crosshair permission to hunt down his brothers at the end of 1.12, I'm going to assume he wasn't looking for them that long. Rampart never complains that Crosshair's manhunt is wasting time, or that it's taking so long that they should abandon the effort. Plus, they were also busy decommissioning Tipoca City and the other Kaminoan facilities, so I imagine that took some time.

So, maybe 3-5 weeks (or another month) in all.

To recap, we have:

A month from 1.01 to 1.06

A month between 1.06 and 1.07

A month between 1.07-1.09 and 1.11/1.12

A month between 1.11/1.12 and 1.14-1.16

Overall, 4 months for sure, but 5-6 months seems a good estimate.

This would also account for how much time passes during the Bracca and Ryloth arcs, and gives more wiggle room on how long Crosshair's recovery process was. Maybe it took him two months to recover from Bracca and be assigned to Ryloth. Or maybe Crosshair was searching for his brothers for more than a month after Ryloth. Who knows?

But, overall, I'm estimating the events of 1.16 "Kamino Lost" take place 5-6 months after 1.01 "Aftermath."

THE SEASON 2 TIMELINE BREAKDOWN

I'll tell you now: early Season 2 is where a lot of my guesses go out the window, because we get far fewer clues as to how much time passes between episodes.

Let's start with the time-jump between the end of Season 1 and the beginning of S2.

Based on Rampart and Crosshair's conversation in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone," Crosshair was stranded on Kamino for a month.

Given that he didn't have any food or water on him when his brothers left him on the platform, he must've been emaciated and dehydrated AF, even if he found some way to collect rainwater and/or catch fish. And Rampart said he needed to be "medically cleared" for active duty.

At least two months seems a good estimate. One month for Crosshair to be stranded; another month for him to recover. It's possible it was longer, though, I admit.

So, at the beginning of 2.03 "The Solitary Clone," we're at least 7 months removed from 1.01 "Aftermath."

Now, I actually think 2.03 takes place before 2.01/2.02. Story for another time, but it boils down to:

1) The creators would want to kick off Season 2 with a Bad Batch-centric episode not a Crosshair-centric episode, even if Crosshair’s episode takes place first chronologically; and

2) Rampart learns the Bad Batch is alive in 2.02, but never has Crosshair arrested or monitored as a potential spy or anything -- this only makes sense if Rampart finds out TBB is alive after Crosshair is cleared for duty and has proven his loyalty.

But, ultimately it doesn't matter:

Based on Mayday's comments in 2.12 "The Outpost," early Season 2 has to cover at least 7 more months. That means that months are passing between episodes in early S2.

In 2.12, Mayday says he's been stationed at the Outpost for over a year, and that he wasn't stationed there until after the war ended. So, assuming at least a month after the war for him to be reassigned, and then 13 months for him to be on Barton IV ... 2.12 has to take place at least 14 months after 1.01 "Aftermath."

So, ultimately, I think 2.01/2.02 might take place 3-4 months after the Fall of Kamino in 1.16 "Kamino Lost." It would allow enough time for the Bad Batch to get new clothes, repaint their old armor, and for Omega to start all of her studies while the Bad Batch continues to do jobs for Cid.

Then we probably have another month between 2.02 "Ruins of War" and 2.04 "Faster." Then another month to 2.05 "Entombed." And then another month to 2.06 "Tribe." And then another month to the beginning of 2.07 “The Clone Conspiracy.”

Because of how compressed the back-half of Season 2 is, I think 2.07/2.08 takes place about 13 months after the war ends in 1.01 "Aftermath" and, thus, about 7-8 months after the Fall of Kamino in 1.16 "Kamino Lost."

Now, once we get to 2.07, that's when the timeline starts compressing again based on in-universe clues.

We know 2.08 "Truth and Consequences" takes place almost immediately after 2.07. So, no more than a week seems to pass between the beginning of 2.07 and the end of 2.08.

Then, 2.09 "The Crossing" takes place a few days after 2.08, as Omega is still adjusting to Echo's absence. Then 2.10 "Retrieval" is immediately after 2.09, and 2.11 "Metamorphosis" takes place maybe a day after 2.10.

So, from the beginning of 2.07 to the end of 2.11, maybe two weeks have passed in-universe.

Then, at the beginning of 2.13 "Pabu," Cid remarks that it's been 20 rotations since she last talked to the Bad Batch in 2.11.

From 2.13 to 2.14, I'm guessing 1-2 weeks have passed based on how much of Pabu has been rebuilt since the sea surge and other context clues (like Shep and Hunter's conversation about the Bad Batch staying on Pabu).

Now, we're not exactly sure where 2.12 "The Outpost" falls in the S2 timeline. I'm guessing it's simultaneous with 2.13 "Pabu" for thematic and dramatic reasons, but we see all our various plot threads align in 2.14 "Tipping Point." Everything Echo, Crosshair and Hunter & co. do happens within 2-3 days.

Then, based on Echo's comments, we know 2.15 "The Summit" takes place two days after the Bad Batch's conversation at the end of 2.14 "Tipping Point." And then 2.16 "Plan 99" takes place immediately after 2.15.

So, while I can't speculate much on early S2, I can tell you that 2.07-2.16 spans about two months.

To recap:

2 months between 1.16 "Kamino Lost" and 2.03 "The Solitary Clone"

Several months between 2.01/2.02 and 2.07

A week during 2.07 and 2.08

A few days between 2.08 and 2.09

Another week during 2.09 to 2.11

Three weeks between 2.11 and 2.13

Two weeks between 2.13 and 2.14

A week during 2.14 to 2.16

But, overall, I'm estimating the events of 2.16 "Plan 99" take place 15-16 months after 1.01 "Aftermath."

THE SEASON 3 TIMELINE BREAKDOWN

Unlike the previous two seasons, Season 3 is very compressed. Outside of the time-jump within 3.01 "Confined," the entire season takes place over the course of 5-6 weeks. Not months. Weeks.

Now, again, I actually think 3.02 "Paths Unknown" takes place during the five-month time-jump within 3.01. But that doesn't really matter.

As we see from Omega's tally marks, the end of 3.01 takes place about 5.5 months after 2.16 "Plan 99." So, we have our between-seasons time-jump spelled out for us this time.

This means the end of 3.01 "Confined" takes place 21-22 months after 1.01 "Aftermath."

Skipping over 3.02, episode 3.03 "Shadows of Tantiss" seems to take place within a few days of the end of 3.01. We see that Omega is still being monitored closely after her outburst in the lurca kennels; and Hemlock told Nala Se in 3.01 that the Emperor would be arriving soon to check on their progress, which he does in 3.03. Heck, maybe 3.03 takes place the day after 3.01, but I’ll give a little wiggle room and say it’s been a few days.

Then, we know that the beginning of 3.03 to the end of 3.05 all takes place in a very short amount of time. Maybe a week.

3.04 "A Different Approach" takes place immediately after 3.03, and no more than a day or two passes between the end of 3.04 and the beginning of 3.05 "The Return."

So, from the end of 3.01 to the end of 3.05, two weeks have passed at most.

The gap between 3.05 and 3.06 is the only span of time in S3 we don't have any solid indicators about. It clearly wasn't too long, as Howzer talks about Crosshair escaping Tantiss like it happened fairly recently. Overall, I'd guess it's been maybe a week or two since Crosshair and Omega escaped Tantiss.

Then, 3.07 takes place immediately after 3.06.

Excluding 3.10 "Identity Crisis," we know that 3.08-3.11 all take place within a short amount of time. No more than 2-3 days seem to pass between episodes, and no more than 2-3 days passes within each episode. In total, I'd say these three episodes take place over the course of two weeks.

Thus, I'm guessing 4-5 weeks, or about a month, passes from the end of 3.01 "Confined" to the beginning of 3.11 "Point of No Return."

Then, we know the timeline 3.11 between 3.15 is very short because all the episodes take place almost immediately after each other. The only exception is between 3.12 and 3.13, when maybe 12-24 hours passes based on Omega's movements in the Vault and her brothers' plans to infiltrate the orbital station.

You can round up and say a week, but that almost seems generous to me. Maybe a work week. Like the Empire invaded Pabu Monday night and Omega & co. were back on Pabu Friday morning.

Overall, I think the beginning of 3.11 "Point of No Return" to the end of 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived" spans 3-5 days.

To recap:

5.5 months from the end of 2.16 "Plan 99" to the end of 3.01 "Confined"

A week from the end of 3.01 to the end of 3.05

A week between 3.05 and 3.06/3.07

Three weeks during 3.06/3.07 to 3.11

A week during 3.11 to 3.15

Again, outside of the time-jump within 3.01, the entirety of Season 3 takes place over 1-2 months if we're looking at the larger post-"Aftermath" timeframe.

Overall, I'm estimating the showdown on Tantiss and Hemlock's death in 3.15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived" takes place about 22-23 months after 1.01 "Aftermath."

We know it's not more than 24 months after the war ends, because Wookieepedia would list Hemlock's death in 17 BBY instead of 18 BBY. So no more than 24 calendar months can pass between "The Bad Batch" series premiere and series finale.

But, accounting for things that happen within the show, 22-23 months seems about right. Like, it's been almost two calendar years, but not quite.

So, to give a real-world example, if Palpatine gave his "Revenge of the Sith" speech to reorganize into the Galactic Empire on Jan. 1, 2022, then the big showdown on Tantiss takes place in October or November 2023.

That means:

If Omega was 12 years old when her brothers met her on Kamino, she was 13-14 during the showdown on Tantiss.

After his inhibitor chip activated, Crosshair was separated from his brothers for more than 18 months before finally reconciling with them in 3.05 "The Return."

The Bad Batch worked for Cid for over a year, and she still betrayed them.

Phee and Tech's ~situationship~ might've lasted half-a-year between their first meeting in 2.01 "Spoils of War" and his death in 2.16 "Plan 99."

When Crosshair sent the Plan 88 message, the Bad Batch hadn't seen or heard from him in 8-9 months (since the Fall of Kamino).

Omega only got to spend 15-16 months with Tech before his death in 2.16 “Plan 99.” 😭

Crosshair hadn't seen his brothers for over a year between the Fall of Kamino and him escaping Tantiss with Omega.

Omega and Crosshair only spent about 7 months together during the show (5.5 on Tantiss and 1.5 after their escape), and most of that was off-screen. 🙁

Apparently, more time passed between S1 and S2 than during S3 (excluding the time jump and epilogue). Seriously. From the end of 3.01 to the final showdown on Tantiss, the Bad Batch had a very insane and stressful 5-6 weeks. They all looked like they could use a nap in that final group shot under the tree, and I don't blame them!

All the clones (except Omega) aged 3-4 biological years over the course of the show. So, if Hunter & co. were biologically 22 when they met Omega on Kamino, they'd be about 24-25 when they finally settle down on Pabu.

Not sure how this will help people, but I wanted to share it because I've been thinking about how insane this show's timeline -- how loosey-goosey it is in some places while being super-rigid in others.

So, enjoy!

Oh my god!!!! I love this!!!!

Happy Halloween, here's my favorite spoopy time movie

So what is this!? 🤷🏽‍♀️ What is this, me and Wrecker and his soul-soothing and back-cracking hugs, drawing and talking about 😂 So today you get one of my favorite Wrecker hugs and my first drawing of the one and only Captain Rex and finally… TECH 😎

Sorry, but not sorry – you have to deal with my interpretation of his hair, because I love to draw wavy hair ☺️

Have a look on the portait details! I really like to know, what Echo, Hunter and Tech are thinking in this moment. Let me know, what do you guess?

In my opinion, Echo smirks because this is maybe the first time his captain looks small 😂

Poor Rex 😁 Never gets used to hugs and maybe bone-crashing is a hurting thing too… 😀

This frame might be my favorite in this piece 😄🙏🏼 Hunter looks nearly shocked while Tech shows one of his rare little smiles!

In this artwork it’s the first time, I experimented with light on dark inverted shading and with the color pecker in Procreate, but only for the background colors ☺️ Hope you enjoy 🫶🏼