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

as you should

masterlist

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

H U N T E R salvation

C R O S S H A I R “execute order 66″

T E C H nothing yet

E C H O nothing yet

W R E C K E R nothing yet

Salvation

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

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

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

In 

and

out

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