Yes

Can’t wait to see these (some at least) when I one day get to Hawaii (my number 1 dream and bucket list thing/place), partly because my husband and I have still not had a honeymoon after 5 years.

I also have numerous chronic illnesses and mental health issues that I can’t wait forever since every year my health has been steadily declining. If anyone sees anything Hawaiian please share or tag me please and thank you so much!!!

Glimpses

Glimpses

Title: Glimpses

Pairing: NONE!

Word Count: 1100

Summary: After a broken hyperdrive sends Din briefly forward in time he meets up with someone he has only just lost… fluff and angst and feelings and parenting. Bring your tissues.

A/N: Shit got excited forgot… part of the 800 Follower Celebration! A request of “Mando” and “Time Travel” sorry forgot to tag the love @inspiringmelodrama​

SEQUEL NOW UP: GLIMPSED

Nursemaid Masterlist/ Mandalorian Masterlist (same list)

Author Masterlist

Taglist Form!

Hyperdrive units were complex machines.

A hyperdrive, in its most basic form, made you successfully travel through space really fast. Without it primitive cultures were left spending years going between planets much less systems. Forget it. He hadn’t even studied cultures that old, they were just ridiculous stories that nobody really took seriously. Until you had to repair a hyperdrive.

Hyperdrives actually folded space in order to create a shortcut through it and thus permit you to travel faster through a given space.

Now… the funny thing about traveling through hyperspace was knowing what would be on the other side.

On the other side you had to know not just what was expected to be in the space but what would be there in the time that you would be plopping out of your wormhole.

Space and time had to be in balance for you to not get scrambled.

And, frankly, the Slave I was older than the Crest and when he had gotten Boba’s blessing to borrow it he hadn’t been told nearly enough about the slapdash state of repairs on the hyperdrive.

Din Djarin might have been a king but he was not a taxi driver, mechanic…

Keep reading

LOVE ANYTHING CROSSHAIR AND OMEGA!!! This made me laugh lol.

Crosshair: *doing his thing, death-staring into the void, chewing on his toothpick*

Omega: *comes nearer, watching him a while, smiles at him*

Crosshair: ...

Crosshair: what do you want

Omega: Can I have a toothpick too?

Crosshair: ...

Crosshair: fine

Crosshair: *takes out toothpicks, hands them to her*

Omega: *takes one and puts it in her mouth*

Omega: *proceeds to chew and eat the thing like a pretzel stick*

Crosshair:

Crosshair: Kid.

Crosshair: Kid, no.

Crosshair: *drags Omega to Hunter* take your child back

Shameless self-promotion!

I wrote this little fic a while back and for a long time I thought something like this would never happen in canon but with how season 2 has developed... who knows 👀

Anyway here's some Crosshair and Omega sibling cuteness.

___

There were more troopers on patrol that night. More than they’d expected Crosshair decided as he peered through his scope at the hangar and the few small portholes carved into the rock. At least they were following schedule so it shouldn’t be a problem.

He paused to tap a quick message to Hunter’s comm, just to be safe. His brothers could take on some extra security but it was always better to err on the side of caution if they could afford it. His attention shifted back to the base. The darkness next to him remained quiet though he could hear the occasional shuffling and soft breathing noises. It made him want to roll his eyes.

How Hunter had thought this was a good idea was beyond him. Though in this particular case he had Echo to thank, because of course the brat needed more field experience and of course that experience had to be the kind she had the least of. Like manning a sniper nest.

Karking reg and his military conscience. Maybe next time he was cleaning his legs one of them would ‘accidentally’ get lost and stomped on by Wrecker.

Now, he could look on the bright side. The brat hadn’t deemed it necessary to talk to him yet-

“Hey, how do you do that?”

And there it was. Yeah. Right there.

Crosshair briefly regretted all his life choices as he felt himself bristle. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to the kid’s presence by this point but her timing was still garbage. Echo was definitely going to miss that leg. He’d make sure of it.

“How do I do what?” he snapped back, chomping down on the toothpick he was currently abusing. He could see her blink at him through the darkness and an image of Tech flashed through his mind as she leapt at to the opportunity to talk:

“Usually when you have a toothpick in your mouth you make a ‘tsk’ sound when you wriggle it around. Like this:”

She leaned back on her haunches and the edge of her mouth curled as her tongue made a sharp clicking sound. Crosshair felt his whole face spasm. Kriffing brat, why was that so accurate??

Oblivious to his mortification, Omega pressed on: “But you’re not doing it now. How do you stop yourself from doing it?”

Really? They were doing this now?

“In case you haven’t noticed,” he bit out, “we’re in the middle of a mission.”

“Yeah, I know. But how do you stop yourself? I thought it was a nervous tic.”

“A nervous ti-?!” His eye actually left the scope and he sputtered before he had the chance to realize what he was doing. When he did, he felt like digging a hole into the gravel and burying his head in it. He was pretty sure Tech had told him of some animal somewhere that did that.

He gritted his teeth and willed himself to calm down. He was not going to lose his temper in front of the brat.

“You ever heard of the word ‘creepy’, kid?” he shot back and glued his eye back to the scope. They were lucky the guards hadn’t moved much in the meantime. If they had and Crosshair hadn’t noticed it he was fully committed to blaming it on Echo. Or Hunter.

As time went by the tension in his shoulders began to unwind. The kid was quiet but didn’t seem discouraged if the air of anticipation was anything to go by. Crosshair on the other hand could feel something chipping away at his resolve under that glittering brown gaze.

He fidgeted for a bit. Then fidgeted some more and knew he was doomed as soon as the thought entered his brain and wiped its feet on the welcome mat.

“You compartmentalize.” She instantly perked up next to him. “You take specific habits and teach your body to associate them with a physical state.”

“A physical state?”

He glared out of the corner of his eye. He was getting there.

“Posture, breathing, heartbeat,” His trigger finger flexed and the chalk-powdered skin caught on the glove’s fabric. “Tactile sensations. Once your body starts recognizing the signs, it puts you in the right mindset.”

Omega had gone completely still by the time he finished and he recognized that dark blotch on her face as her mouth hanging open. Her voice was hushed with awe when she spoke next.

“That is so cool.”

“You know what’s not cool?”

“What?”

“The fact that you’re not compartmentalizing right now.”

There. That should keep her quiet for a while.

A group of guards changed shifts shortly after and Crosshair watched them chatter with each other, helmets bobbing, while the stars marched on overhead. His brothers were still making their way through the base, it seemed. And they’d managed to stay under the radar for once.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a light appeared in his peripheral vision, somewhere off to the left. He froze as he stopped to evaluate the situation. He couldn’t afford to be unprepared if a shootout broke out so removing his scope from the hangar was out of the question. This meant that his best course of action was to try and judge the light’s position on his own for now.

He pulled away from his rifle and trained his gaze on a suitable section of the rock, a small distance off to the right of the light. Omega’s reaction was slower.

“There’s a light!”

He saw her point her binoculars at it.

“I know.”

“But it’s over there.” She tugged at his pauldron urgently and he resisted the urge to grumble. If she yanked off his rifle support he would have Hunter solder it back on personally.

“I can see it,” he bit out, trying to do his job despite the literal child attached to his armor.

“But you’re not looking at it!”

Crosshair sent a pleading look up at the heavens. Dank farrik, what was wrong with him? He was better than this, he should be able to ignore her.

“Will you stay quiet if I tell you why?”

Her blond curls bobbed with her nod, reminding him of an overenthusiastic cleaning droid with a duster. He glared at her through the darkness.

Then made a show of turning the other way and ignoring her.

“Hunter,” he commed his brother. “There’s an extension of the base that’s not on the holomaps. Direction northwest, into the rock. Careful, there may be more troops there.”

“Roger that.” Hunter’s voice crackled through the connection before everything went quiet again. The Firepuncher was cool as Crosshair adjusted his grip on her. Sometimes he wished his rifle could talk so it could shut up when other people couldn’t. Did that make sense? It made no kriffing sense. Point in case, he could already feel Omega scooch closer to him in the dark and he knew he couldn’t avoid his way out of this one.

“Your peripheral vision is more sensitive to light,” he said, “That’s why you see some things better in the dark when you’re not looking directly at them. Same goes for motion.”

Well, technically most people didn’t have any use for it since their peripheral vision was shit, unlike his, but she didn’t need to know that. It was a hollow victory though. She was practically vibrating with excitement now that she’d learned something new again.

There was a tell-tale shuffle and he all but whined when he realized she was about to ask him more questions.

“What is it now?”

“I have another question” Obviously. “When we were about to head out you put your helmet on before the others. Why did you do that when we were still on the Marauder?”

This time he actually drew away from his scope to press his forehead to the dirt. The pebbles under his chest plate crunched as he heaved a deep breath. “Night vision peaks after 30 minutes of being in darkness. I have a shader function in my helmet-”

___

Twenty minutes later they were still in the same place they’d started.

“If your night vision is better, does that mean your eyes are more light sensitive in general?”

“Yes.”

“So you not only see objects more clearly but everything looks brighter.”

“Yes.”

“Does that make it harder to sleep?”

A pause.

“…Yes.”

A surprised gasp. He was at the end of his tether.

“Are you done?” he asked not even bothering to hide the long suffering tone in his voice. Thankfully, thankfully, she was and just in time as the next moment an explosion reached their ears and the troopers inside the hangar started to scurry around like ants. The familiar sound of a siren followed soon after.

It seemed his brothers had finally gotten to the meat of the mission.

Crosshair smirked as he zeroed in on the guard that seemed closest to the hangar bay door. It was time to play whack a trooper.

___

The mission wrapped up without a hitch. His brothers had commed to report a cleared mission objective and a successful retreat which had prompted their leave of the sniper nest. The base personnel hadn’t bothered to try and find them. They were too busy putting out fires.

He and the brat made it back to the Marauder in blessed silence though Crosshair hadn’t failed to notice the bounce in her step. The rest of the batch were already preparing for takeoff — quite leisurely so, they must have shaken off their pursuers — and Omega skipped to Hunter’s side as soon as he was in sight. Crosshair would have made fun of the mushy look that crawled on his face if he hadn’t done it a thousand times already.

“Well, you look excited.” Crosshair heard him say to Omega as he caught up.

“Did you know that your peripheral vision is more light sensitive than your central vision?” she blurted back, shuffling from foot to foot and barely keeping herself from flailing her arms.

There was a moment of confusion as Hunter processed the information. Then his face slowly split into a shit-eating grin that made Crosshair’s blood go cold.

“Zip it,” Crosshair growled in warning, only making Hunter’s smile grow wider, before shoving past them.

Karma really was a bitch.

Hunter was brave enough to show him that same knowing grin a few more times before the day was over and it made Crosshair wonder if he could finish the skull on the other half of his face using just bruises. Tech would have been proud of how close he came to putting his hypothesis to the test.

Life on the Marauder went on after that. The brat was still annoying but moderately so, just as she’d been from the very beginning. Hardly anything had changed except that she and Wrecker had found a new hobby to entertain them and though he didn’t know what it was, he knew it entailed a lot of yelping and rubbing at sore fingertips.

And Echo? Echo had a new leg. Funny how that worked.

It was only a couple of weeks later that their little stakeout would come back to bite him in the ass. He was getting ready to turn in early, drained after listening to his brothers bicker for what was probably a few hours (no, Tech, Wrecker would not stop eating Mantell Mix for dinner no matter how many times you tried to impart the virtues of the food pyramid to him).

Sometimes one had to wonder if Tech wasn’t an idiot under all that intellect. And if that was the smartest person in their group, then Maker help them all.

His armor came off without much fuss as he stripped down to his blacks. A strap on his left vambrace tried to give him trouble but he had just about gotten it off when the curtain to Omega’s room swished open violently.

Her eyes found him standing next to his bunk and she gave him a brilliant smile. One of those beaming ones that promised an annoyance.

“Crosshair! Are you going to bed?”

He answered her with a scowl. “Why do you care?”

As usual she didn’t seem the least bit perturbed and he watched her dive back into the little room, making a ruckus as she rummaged around for something. “Wait, I think it’s pretty much finished-”

There was a triumphant cheer and she seemed to have found what she was looking for as she was soon climbing down the little stairs, running over to him and pushing something into his hands. He stared at her and then the thing he was holding.

It was a piece of cloth. A small piece of cloth.

He couldn’t be sure and he frowned at the way it felt between his fingers, all roughly sewn stitches and errant threads. At least now he knew what she and Wrecker were up to when the latter shoved half his body through the curtain and they spent hours yelping and whispering to each other.

The puzzle started to make sense when he turned the thing over to look at it proper.

It was shaped like a visor or goggles of some sort, made out of shiny black fabric with biased edges and an elastic string attached to either end. The right side of the mask – because it was a mask, a sleep mask – was decorated with a few shaky strokes of white paint that formed a reticle, which, if he wore the thing, would align perfectly with his tattoo.

Crosshair felt something lodge in his throat.

“Here!” Omega said proudly. “For your eyes – you said they bothered you when you sleep.”

He swallowed as he looked at the mask in his hands.

“Thanks.” His voice was hoarse.

“Do you like it?”

He blinked, determined not to let his voice crack.

“It’s fine.”

“Great! I hope you wear it.” With that she leaned in to squeeze him in a hug before skipping off and disappearing into her room. He was left there standing awkwardly by his bunk.

Part of him knew what was coming. No, scratch that, all of him knew what was coming.

Taking a slow breath, he turned around to face the direction of the cockpit. Every single one of his brothers was looking at him with a variation of Hunter’s shit-eating grin form that day. Wrecker looked about ready to crack up. Echo looked like he wanted to be punched.

Crosshair took another breath and steeled himself as he pointed a single threatening finger:

“Not. A. Word.”

It was said it as quickly as his pride allowed and he hurried to tug the mask over his eyes so he wouldn’t have to watch their stupid faces as they burst into giggles. The chortling didn’t stop after he’d settled into his bunk and he relished the rush of satisfaction when he kicked out his leg and it connected with Echo’s midriff, sending him sprawling to the floor with an ‘oof’. That’s what the bastard got for trying to take a holo.

Now, at least, he could finally go to sleep… and the mask did feel nice. Even with all those crooked stitches.

Yeah, Crosshair could finally sleep now.

“Guys,” Echo wheezed from the floor. “I think I got it.”

“Oh karking hell- ”

___

There’s an actual game of whack a trooper online, go look it up I beg of you.

Star Wars | illustrated by Liam Brazier

The Bad Batch taking care of a sick Omega

Hello! I am back with more Bad Batch stuff, I started out writing these as headcanons then got carried away and now they’ve sorta turned into drabbles/blurbs/mini stories. Maybe one day I’ll write an actual story.

You can find my other stuff here and here.

So this has been done before, but I wanna do my own spin on it. This is how I think the Bad Batch would react to Omega being unwell and how they would look after her. I love writing about the Dad Bad Batch interacting with Omega, it gives me life. Basically, they all encounter Omega sick at one point and this is how I think it would go. The boys won’t get sick since they are genetically engineered to withstand most illnesses, but Omega is not.

Warnings: Sickness (nothing explicitly described, just mentions of general unwellness), a plethora of fluff, some swearing, slightly AU possibly since Crosshair is in it. Some angst too. Also, it’s pretty long. I tried my best to look for spelling/grammar mistakes, but I may have missed some so sorry in advance!

Hunter:

Sergeant Hunter usually prided himself on his keen senses most of the time, they sure had gotten him and brothers (and Omega of course) out of some arduous situations. And this time was one of those times he thanked the Kaminoans for making him ‘defective’, because he sensed that something wasn’t right with Omega.

They were taking a break from mercenary life and were on a nice, warm planet to rest for a couple of nights. Omega was excited as they were gathering supplies for the trip. But the next day after they got there, Omega, usually the first to wake up, slept later than usual. Hunter knew for a fact that something was amiss. He could hear that her heart was beating faster than it usually did, and he could hear her quiet little whimpers and shuffling as she tossed and turned.

He immediately went to her little room on the Marauder to check on her. She was awake, and his heart broke at her little face, screwed up with obvious discomfort. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat. Now, clones were genetically engineered to not get sick, but Omega, being an unaltered clone, clearly was not.

He immediately called on Tech, the squad’s de facto medic, to come and take a look at her. He concluded that she was suffering from the flu, and that she would recover in a few days, with plenty of rest, fluids, and medicine if needed. The rest of the batch offered to take it in shifts to look after Omega but Hunter, being the dad that he is, refused and insisted that he look after Omega until she was better whilst everyone else enjoyed the break, so that’s what he did.

He made sure that she drank enough water, and made sure that she was comfortable. He moved her to his bunk, and begrudgingly let his brothers take over when he could hardly keep his eyes open.

He held her hand and felt his heart clench when she moved to sit in his lap, clinging onto him. He adores his little Omega and it hurt him to see her unwell. He stroked her back and whispered comforting words to her whilst she drifted in and out of sleep. “Don’t you worry, ad’ika, I’m here to look after you,” he said gently, “I’ll keep you safe.” And from that moment on, any time Omega was unwell, she would usually seek him out first and he would stay by her side until she was better.

Wrecker:

Wrecker was using Gonky as a weight, like he always did. He always had so much energy and doing this helped. Gonky didn’t seem to mind either, kicking his legs lightly and beeping happily every time he was hoisted up. Having this routine helped focus his mind and calm him down, especially before or after a mission.

The ship was quiet, aside from the quiet chatter from his brothers. Omega was strangely quiet, and he put Gonky down, intending to ask her what was wrong.  Suddenly, Omega let out a rather loud and obnoxious sneeze that had her rushing forward in her chair. It was an impressive sneeze, Wrecker had to admit, even Gonky chirped in what could only be described as awe (or the droid equivalent of awe, anyway).

He guffawed loudly and patted Omega on the back, whilst the others looked on. Hunter went to stand up to go to her, obviously sensing something that the others couldn’t, but immediately hissed in pain and sat back down again, as he had evidently aggravated his chest injury from a blaster shot by that damn bounty hunter who took Omega on Bracca. Wrecker’s blood boiled at the thought of those bounty hunters.

Hunter pointed out that Omega was coming down with a sickness bug, as he recognised the symptoms. Omega tried to insist that she was fine, but another loud sneeze followed by a slight coughing fit proved otherwise. Tech confirmed that she was coming down with a common cold and should rest for a day or two until she was better.

She tried to refuse, not wanting to go to bed and miss out on any fun, but after a few stern looks from the others and a pointed scoff from Crosshair, she stood up to make her way to her little room. Before she could get there, however, Wrecker scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way. He then went to his bunk to get his extra warm and fluffy blanket, along with Lula, who, in his opinion, was the best medicine and could make anyone feel better.

He then went to her room and tried his best to sit beside her, but being as big as he was, it was a struggle. But somehow, he managed. Tech brought Omega some water, and Wrecker busied himself with trying to cheer her up and make her feel better. He told her silly jokes, and funny stories about him and his brothers, and made her smile. He let her cling to Lula as he recited funny stories about him pranking Crosshair when they were cadets on Kamino.

He loved making Omega smile and it made his heart soar when she did. He knew that he and Omega had a special bond, and he was glad that they escaped with her from Kamino. He was relieved that they managed to get her back from that bounty hunter, and he was impressed that she had actually managed to escape on her own. She was a little ray of sunshine in their small family, always full of curiosity and wonder and he couldn’t imagine life without her.

Tech:

Tech knew a lot about, well, everything. From fixing the hyperdrive on a ship, to the benefits of giving someone a hug. The knowledge that he held within his exceptional mind was important to the squad, and Omega loved to listen to what he had to say. She would often follow him around the ship when he was making repairs and ask him question after question, which he didn’t mind because it was refreshing to not be brushed off for spouting out ‘useless info’.

On one such day, Omega was dutifully helping him around the ship whilst Echo was holed up in the cockpit and the others were out gathering supplies. However, he could tell something was off about her as her movements were rather sluggish and she wasn’t enthusiastically asking about anything and everything like she usually did. He quickly came to the conclusion that she must be under the weather.

He checked her over and deduced that she was over-tired and needed to get some rest. She tried to protest, but was cut off by a large yawn. He helped her to her room and made sure she was comfortable, fluffing her pillow and tucking her into her blankets.

As he made to climb back down the ladder, Omega reached out and held his wrist in her little hand and asked him to stay. He hesitated for a moment, as there was work to be done on the ship, but when he looked into her tired, pleading eyes, he didn’t have the heart to say no, so he climbed into her room and she made room so that he could sit beside her.

He put his arm around her shoulder and sighed, racking his brain for some information on how he could help her get to sleep. He remembered reading that dim lighting can help a child sleep, so he used his datapad to dim the little lights Wrecker had installed in her room. He also remembered reading that reading or telling stories to a child can help them sleep, so he again racked his brain for a story he could tell her.

Before he could think of something, Omega spoke up. “Tech.. could you tell me a bit about the Jedi?” she asked shyly. He paused for a moment, thinking about the Jedi and what had happened to them, a pang of guilt finding its way into his heart. But he powered on and began to tell her about the Jedi and their powers, harnessed from the Force. After around ten minutes, she was fast asleep.

He slowly and quietly got up and left Omega’s little room, pausing briefly to brush hair away from her eyes. Who would’ve guessed that in the midst of the fear and turmoil in the galaxy a group of ragtag clones, bred for the sole purpose of fighting, would adopt a child into their ranks, especially one as pure and special as Omega? Tech would never have guessed that in a million years. But as he continued with his work around the ship, he thought about how happy he was that she was with them.

Echo:

Echo spent a lot of time in the cockpit of the Marauder. He liked to watch the stars, and he liked the swirling mass of brightness when they were hurtling through hyperspace. He also liked to stare out of the viewport when they were planetside, watching the comings and goings of the natives, or watching the sunsets and moons. When he first came aboard the Marauder, he wasn’t quite sure how he would fit in with the ragtag group of clones who had named themselves the Bad Batch, but they had let him aboard their ship and even made him his own bunk, and made him feel at home. And when Omega came aboard, he made sure to make her feel at home too.

On a quiet night on a quiet planet, Wrecker, Tech and Hunter had gone out to do an easy job for Cid, whilst he remained on the ship with Crosshair and Omega. Crosshair was outside of the ship sitting on the grass, cleaning his rifle, as he always did. Omega was in her room, electing to stay behind because she was tired. Echo thought nothing of this, as she was only a child and needed more rest than he and his brothers did.

He was starting to doze in the co-pilot's seat when he heard hesitant footsteps approaching behind him. Now, if this was a few months ago, his reflexes would have kicked in and he’d have launched himself out of his seat with alarming speed, blaster at the ready. But he knew that the only other person on the ship was Omega, and that Crosshair was keeping watch out front, his sharp eyes scanning for possible danger. “Echo?” Omega asked, her voice quiet and strained, a strange lilt to it as if she was on the verge of tears.

He swiveled around in his chair to face her. The lighting in the cockpit was dim, but he could still see her. She was standing holding her stomach, and everything about her stiff posture and hunched shoulders told him that she was in pain. He immediately stood up and went over to her, kneeling down in front of her. “What’s wrong, little one?” he asked her gently. She heaved out a little sob and told him that she had a sore tummy.

He then guided her to sit down in the co-pilot's seat that he had just vacated whilst he went to look through the medical supplies they had on the ship. He returned a minute or so later with pain medicine and some water.

He sat down in the pilot’s seat and gave her the medicine, and then gave her the water to take a sip. She sighed slightly and slouched back in the seat.

It appeared she was starting to fall asleep, so he tried to tell her to go to bed but she said she wanted to stay with him, and he just couldn't say no to her. So they both sat in comfortable silence in the cockpit, the only sounds to be heard being the odd beep from Gonky. Echo leaned back in his seat, glancing over every so often to check on Omega, who was just tiredly looking at the sky from the viewport.

He was starting to doze off himself again, his eyes closed, when he heard Omega stir beside him. He opened his eyes and saw that Omega had vacated her seat and was standing in front of him, rubbing her eyes. He watched her for a second and was about to ask her if she was alright, when she climbed onto his lap and curled herself up to his chest.

Echo froze for a few moments, unsure of what to make of this new turn of events. He had hugged Omega before when she had awoken from a nightmare or if she was upset, but this was something new.

Before the Citadel, physical touch was normal for him. He often hugged his brothers and found that he enjoyed the comfort it gave him. However, after he was rescued from Skako Minor, it was like he had to relearn some things, what he liked and disliked, and physical touch was one of those things. The Bad Batch didn’t regularly hug each other, but touches to the shoulder and other such things were not uncommon. But he found that after Omega joined them, hugging her had made him realise how comforting it can be for both him and her.

He slowly put his arms around her, and rested his chin on her head, rubbing her back soothingly. Soon enough, Omega was fast asleep and Echo found himself falling asleep too, happy that Omega was safe in his arms. When Crosshair came back onto the ship, he saw them both sleeping in the cockpit and he couldn’t help but let a soft smile grace his features at the sight of them. He grabbed a blanket from the bunks and gently laid it over them, before going back outside to resume his watch.

Crosshair:

Crosshair sat on his bunk, an ever-present toothpick hanging from his mouth whilst he disassembled, reassembled and cleaned his customised 773 Firepuncher sniper rifle. It was second nature to him and he didn’t even have to think about what he was doing. He enjoyed and took pride in setting up and cleaning his rifle. It was a part of him and who he was, and he enjoyed the routine.

The ship was quiet, the only people on it being himself and Omega, as the others had gone to gather some much needed supplies. He preferred staying behind, not liking going to stall after stall and store after store, looking at item after item and listening to his brothers haggling, so he decided to stay behind with Omega, who said she wasn’t feeling great. Hunter had tried to stay behind with her but Crosshair pointed out that he was the best at haggling and Hunter reluctantly left, only stopping to get Omega tucked up in his bunk under a mountain of blankets, with some water nearby and some medicine.

At first, Crosshair wasn’t sure what to make of Omega. But he had grown used to her presence and even began to enjoy it. They had grown closer and they bonded over him training her how to shoot her bow more accurately and he had even comforted her when she was upset. She usually always wore a smile on her face and it was enough to even bring a smile to Crosshair’s usually scowling face. His heart hurt a little at seeing her huddled under the blankets, looking so small.

He paused to look over at her every so often, making sure she wasn’t getting worse. He could hear her steady breaths as she slept, and he put his rifle to the side and stood up, flicking his toothpick into the waste-bin next to his bunk as he did so. He gently pressed his hand to her forehead and noted how her temperature didn’t feel as if it had gotten higher, but it didn’t seem like it was getting lower either.

He picked up the cup of water Hunter had left and gently roused Omega from her slumber. She looked up at him with bleary eyes, scrunching her little nose up in confusion. “Kid, it’s time for a drink of water,” he spoke softly to her. He put his hand behind her head to support her and tipped the cup slowly to her mouth, making sure she took a few small sips, before laying her back down again. He brushed her hair away from her head and began to stand up again, but she made a small noise of protest when he went to move.

By the way she looked at him, he knew that she wanted him to sit with her. After all, that’s what the others did when she was unwell. He hesitated for a moment, then let out a soft sigh, moving onto the bunk and leaning his back against the wall. Omega shuffled closer to him and reached out her little hand to take his. At first, he did nothing, he just looked at her small hand grasping his. Then he sighed quietly again and held her hand, rubbing his thumb gently across her knuckles.

“Please... don’t leave me,” Omega breathed, sounding scared. Crosshair’s breath hitched in his throat, and he swallowed thickly, having never heard Omega sound this way before. She was usually the life and soul of the group. “I’ll never leave you, Omega. I promise.” he replied, the words coming out oddly strangled.  His heart clenched again and he tipped his head back against the wall, a surge of affection and protectiveness going through him, thinking about how he would do anything for Omega.

tags: @eyecandyeoz @kratosfan6632466 @radbatch @crashbandicute @by-the-primes @justalittlecloud @itsjml

Gah this broke my heart because it’s more than likely true :/. Poor Omega wish she wasn’t dealt the shittest deal (I mean the kid was basically a test subject and then stripped from her brothers then never allowed to leave, etc etc).

I just had a heartbreaking thought involving Omega as a child, so now you all have to hear about it.

Bear with me for a minute, because it involves some psychology. Psychologically speaking, a child’s first memory often depends on the values of the society they are raised in. A society that prioritizes familial values often has children have a first memory involving family, such as the birth of a younger sibling.

There’s no doubt that despite the many different stories under the umbrella that is Star Wars, a primary focus of all of them is family and the importance of the ones you love. 

So what if little Omega’s first memory is of her brothers?

What if little Omega is brought into Nala Se’s lab and sees four babies, one with a head full of dark curls, one double the size of the other babies with layers of baby fat, one twitching his fingers as if he’s itching to hold something, and one with his hands scrunched up over his eyes and her brain goes, “Yes, these are my brothers, this is my family. I will remember them forever.”

And she does. For years, she remembers those little babies even as they grow into cadets and soldiers, even as she is hidden away from them. She spends years searching for her brothers because despite all that time apart, she knows that they are her family. 

And then finally, after all those years, Omega catches a glimpse of a man with long dark hair, and she knows she’s found her family. 

MY LIFE IS THESE TWO (And Grogu) BUT UNFORTUNATELY IT SEEMS TO ME THAT NOT A LOT OF OTHERS AGREE WITH ME. I simply cannot find a ton of fan fictions (especially), pictures, etc of these two!!!!

Any one who can draw a really good picture with these two (in character but with a strong bond) or write a good (hopefully longer) fanfiction is my new best friend!!!! Omg! Or these two with Grogu haha! In a lot of pain, this chronic illness girl pain days are filled with Star Wars lol.

I'm just throwing it out there. Anyone who makes or tags me in Crosshair and Omega sibling content is instantly my best friend. No questions, no arguments. You are my favorite person in the entire world. I love them and they deserve to be best friends and yes, I am terrified of the upcoming finale.

I wish this actually happened! The finale really shook me!

The Silence Brings Me Home

Hey! This is my first fanfic so I hope you all enjoy it! I was inspired by an illustration I saw of Crosshair sobbing and holding Lula for comfort (which I cannot find for the life of me, if I do eventually I’ll link it). I meant to get his done before ep. 11 Devil’s Deal (and especially before this week’s) because we still didn’t know what Cross looked like at that point, but I’m slow and here we are. There is some fanart I did at the end, I’ve only recently gotten back into drawing after a long time, so it might be a little rough sorry!

Summary: The Batch get Crosshair back, but what he has, and almost done haunts him. Comfort is given in the simplest of ways: by being presen for the healing.

Warnings: Mention of blood/injury, killing/murder. Heavy angst with comfort. Self loathing ideation.The beginnings of a family healing together from trauma.

Word Count: 2188

It was as close as it got to silent within the Havoc Marauder. The ship always faintly hummed as it cruised through space; the engines and various systems constantly working away in the background via a complicated web of technology and wiring, maintained by the Batch’s resident genius. Rumors were, if someone listened close enough as a ship passed through hyperspace, they could faintly hear the sound of the decillions of particles out there passing around the ship. Something like sand blasting the outside of the hull, but with a bell-like, ringing, song. It was that sort of silence that found all six of the inhabitants within the Marauder.

Tech, the aforementioned genius, was nursing a new goose egg on his forehead with a cold compress while attempting to repair a hairline fracture in one of his goggles lenses. Echo sat across from him helping to guide the nearly blind man in his endeavour. Besides a myriad of small cuts and new bruises, Echo’s left leg lay detached and balanced on his lap, waiting for attention from Tech for a recently smoking blaster hole through the calf. Laying in his bunk, Wrecker was also nursing a new blaster wound: the bolt having ripped through his armour and taken a chunk out of his right bicep. He lay quietly, making sure to stay off his wound so the bacta could do its work and trying to process the events of the day. Remembering the adrenaline and the genuine moment of fear he’d had, but smiling nonetheless. Foreword in the front of the ship, Hunter sat quietly, his face kriffing hurting, his nose having to have been reset after being knocked out of joint. He’d definitely taken a beating, he’d be feeling everything that currently hurt fivefold tomorrow, but the wounds could have been worse. Everything could have been much worse. What could have been was an ache that never faded and a silence that was never filled. 

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