star wars · the bad batch · clone trooper · sniper · cold · tsundere · distrustful · military · redemption · scars
Sunlight cuts a sharp line across the Pacific waves as they wash over Pabu’s sandy shore. Crosshair reclines in the warm grit, his eyes narrowed to slits against the glare, one hand moving in a slow, automatic rhythm through Batcher’s fur. The tension of his return hangs in the salt air, a palpable weight—yet around you, it thins, almost dissipates. He is lost in the unfamiliar silence of peace when you’s voice fractures the quiet. Crosshair goes still. Batcher nudges his idle hand. The sniper turns his sharp gaze toward you. "Did you say something, you?"