arctrooper69
what was I going to do again?
Formerly known as volcano_facts and miawolf45. 27 year old nerd with ADHD and currently hyperfixated on the Clone Wars. I write fanfiction for a lot of things so feel free to ask. Masterlist is pinned! Thanks, I love you ❤️
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So I have been thinking about the possible ending where all members of the bad batch die. And why I don’t see that happening. I could see all but one dying or one more, but not all of the bad batch. Here enjoy this meme that explains my logic.
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Happy Bad Batch Eve! Here are some doodles of the Batch holding cats (or trying to!)
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I'm absolutely in love with your edits 😍
*originals below the cut
**forgoing taglist so I don’t annoy people with these 274858372 posts
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ALANAH.... ALANAH!!!!!!
This is amazing! 😍 😍😍😍 I love this so freaking much! 🥰
Thank you !!!!!
Hey bestie! I love your work and as I've gotten to know you better, you've been an amazing friend ❤️
I was wondering if you could do some hurt/comfort/whump with f!reader x Tech! Maybe they have crash landed or been captured together or something. Perhaps they don't necessarily get along with each other but this situation forces them to work together and they discover that maybe the other isn't so bad. ❤️ Thanks!
Crash Landed 🌊
🫧 Pairing: Tech X Female Reader
word count: 5.9k
Prompts: none
Summary: After you and Tech crash land in a remote Jungle, the two of you need to put your heads together and work as a team. Which is sometimes easier said than done.
warnings: Hurt, Angst and Comfort Whump Trope, Mentions of Injury to Reader and Tech, reader has a fear of blood, Kinda Enemies to Lovers, Reconciliation, Talks about Feelings, Huddling for Warmth, Heated First Kiss, Female Reader. Not proofread.
authors note: I love this idea! I hope I did it justice. And by the word count, clearly I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for being and amazing friend @arctrooper69 🩶
You awaken, dazed and confused, your head heavy as your eyes adjust to the dim, smoke-filled surroundings. What's that smell? Is that... smoke? What happened?
Your body aches with every movement as you manage to sit up with a hefty groan, feeling the weight of gravity pull at your limbs. Rubbing your eyes with your hands to focus, you realise that everything is on its side, the walls of the shuttle caved in, sparks flying from broken control panels. What a mess. But, you're sure you were not alone before this happened.
“Tech?” you call out, your voice croaky before you start coughing, as if your lungs had filled up with smoke.
No reply. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” you mutter to yourself as panic sets in, the memories flooding back. The mission, the Imperial's, crashing. Yes, that’s it. You crash-landed. But where? And where was Tech?
Luckily, your thoughts are answered as a torch shines in the distance, followed by loud clattering as if objects were being moved. You squint through the smoke, trying to ignore the acrid scent of burning metal. “Ah, there you are,” Tech says as he comes into view, his armor scratched, and his goggles a little skewed on his head.
“What happened?” you ask as he approaches you, another spluttering cough escaping your lips.
“If you take a look around, it will become apparent that we have crashed,” he replies. Ah yes, still a pain in the neck even after both of you nearly died.
You and Tech had rarely seen eye to eye. Since you joined the squad months ago, he always seemed to be on top of you, trying to prove you wrong or point out mistakes. It was tiresome. And now, unfortunately, you were stuck with him.
Rolling your eyes, you were in no mood for his tone and began to stand. However, as soon as you did, your leg gave way, your knees slamming to the floor. A cry of pain escaped you, making Tech look up from his cracked datapad, his eyes widening with slight concern. “Are you injured?”
“Obviously,” you grumbled in reply, stretching out your legs to assess the damage, but you didn’t see anything at first. It wasn’t until Tech crouched down in front of you that he spotted it.
“You have a laceration on your calf,” he said, his voice calm but concerned, inspecting the wound closely, and you did a double-take at his words.
“W-What? Is it bad?” You tried to hide the panic in your voice, but if there’s one thing you hated, it was blood.
Tech didn’t reply straight away, his eyes inspecting the wound closely, but your nerves began to eat away at you. “Tech, is it bleeding?” You asked quickly, your chest heaving as the fear started to creep in.
“Yes,” he confirmed, not making eye contact with you before he stood again, “I shall look for a medkit among this rubble. Stay here.” Well, it’s not like you had anywhere to go anytime soon anyway.
You wanted to call out to him, you wanted him to stay with you, but that would be inviting him to babysit you. Just because you were scared didn’t mean you wanted Tech to take care of you, which he probably would not do anyway.
Luckily, he wasn’t gone long and returned with a battered medkit. Some vials were smashed inside, and some tools were of no use, but you were glad that the bandages were untarnished. You had to look away as he started to dress your leg, cutting away the loose fabric to your pants before he skillfully wrapped it up. “That should do for now. Can you stand? We need to get out of here as it wouldn't surprise me if this shuttle imploded at any minute.”
Comfort was not his strong suit, clearly.
“I’ll try,” you began to haul yourself up your feet, but again, you were too weak. “No, no, no, I can’t.” As you were about to fall once again, Tech tucked himself under your arm, a hand steady on your waist as he kept you up.
“I will have to carry you.”
“No!” You squeaked. No way in hell were you going to let him carry you around. No way you wanted to appear more of a burden than you already are.
He raised an eyebrow, unmoved by your objection. “This is not open to debate. You can not put weight on your leg.”
With a frustrated sigh, you relented. “Alright, fine.”
With a wince of pain shooting up your leg, Tech manages to slip his arm around your neck, hoisting you over his shoulder with little effort. Each step he makes sends a jolt of unbearable pain through your leg, but you grit your teeth, holding back any sign of distress, more focused on figuring out how the two of you will get out of this mess.
You escape the shuttle, and the scorching sun immediately washes over you, its heat oppressive and suffocating. The air is humid and sticky. Great.
"So, where are we?" you ask awkwardly, still draped over his shoulder as he trudges onward.
"Uncertain," he replies, which does nothing to ease your nerves.
After a few minutes of walking, he finally sets you down on some dry grass. The sun beats down, forcing you to shield your eyes with your hand as you survey your surroundings. From the looks of it, you’re stranded in a jungle, with a vast expanse of open water stretching out before you. You could be literally anywhere.
“I suggest we find shelter, food, and a water source promptly. Since you are in no state to do anything, this task falls upon me,” he says, not once meeting your gaze as he speaks.
"Are you trying to blame me for hurting my leg? If I'm not mistaken, Tech, you were the one who pushed us into that shuttle," you retort, anger bubbling over.
"I am not blaming you, although if it was not for your mistake on the mission I would not have had to intervene." He trails off, not seeming to care at the dirty looks being sent his way. "I am merely stating facts." He says simply, tucking his datapad into his pouch before glancing down at you.
Deciding to keep your mouth shut for now, you refrain from arguing, knowing it won’t solve anything. Instead, you let Tech take the lead because, as much as you hate to admit it, he's right. You are in no state to do anything at the moment.
Tech leaves you alone for a while, giving you one of his blasters as a precaution before returning around half an hour later, announcing he found a suitable place to set up camp. You simply nod before glancing over at the crashed shuttle. “Is there anything we can salvage from that at least?” you ask aloud, drawing Tech’s attention back to you before casting a glance over at the debris.
“Perhaps. But we will have to be quick-." Before he can finish his thoughts, a sudden explosion rips through the air as the shuttle suddenly erupts into a burst of flames, sending debris flying in all directions. You both watch in shock as the flames engulf the wreckage, leaving nothing salvageable. Never mind.
Once Tech had led you to a secluded spot under the protective canopy of towering trees. With careful movements, you managed to shift your weight onto your knees, the pain radiating from your leg causing you to bite back a wings of pain.
“You are doing it wrong.” As you went ahead and started to make a fire, Tech’s unsolicited advice on fire-building techniques went in one ear and out the other. Survival instincts was one of your specialties after all and so you ignored him as as you gathered dry twigs and leaves, arranging them meticulously into a makeshift pyre.
As Tech continued his lecture on the ‘correct way’ to build a fire, you struck the flint, the spark igniting a blaze that danced and crackled life. A triumphant smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as Tech fell silent, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on the thick backdrop of the jungle.
“As you have accomplished the fire, all we need now is some edible food and water," Tech remarked and you hummed in slight agreement.
Carefully, you leaned back and against a sturdy boulder for support as you turned your attention to Tech, whose fingers deftly navigated his datapad. "Do you think you’ll be able to contact the others?" you inquired softly, wanting to hear good news right now.
Tech's brow furrowed in concentration as he tinkered with the device, the soft glow of the cracked screen illuminating his features in the darkness. "If I can get my device to work properly and salvage the shuttle… then possibly. But…" His voice trailed off, uncertainty lingering in the air.
"You have doubts?" you pressed, concerned lacing your words as you watched him shift uneasily in his spot.
“Yes,” he says as he stands, tucking his datapad away again, “I have my doubts.”
You both fall into silence, something quite rare from Tech as he was always chattering away about something. But for now, he was quiet. Deep in thought. A part of you wished you knew what he was thinking, wondering what was happening in that marvelous mind of his and if he had thought about what would happen if you two were never found which was a reoccurring thought in yours.
“I will be back soon,” he speaks up, breaking the silence after a few minutes.
“Where are you going?” You ask, a little too quickly. But truthfully, you didn’t want to be on your own right now. Yet you didn’t want him to know that.
He watches you almost tentatively before saying, “I need to gather provisions. I will not be long.”
You didn’t protest as you watched him walk away, disappearing through the trees as nightfall approached. Sighing softly to yourself, you sat lost in thought, the flickering flames casting shifting shadows across your face as you think back to all the things you should have done on that mission. Perhaps if you didn’t let your pride get the better of you, you wouldn’t have to sit wondering when Tech will return and if either of you will make it out of here.
You don’t even remember falling asleep last night but you do remember waking up to the chill that had kept you shivering throughout the night despite sleeping by the crackling fire.
As you awaken to the gentle warmth of the morning sun filtering through the dense foliage above, a stark contrast to last night, with a heavy sigh, you sit up. You groan as your body feels more fatigued and worn out than before. Nausea washes over you as you groggily inspect your leg, the sight of the dried and bloodied bandage from the previous day making your stomach churn. Obviously, you'll need to tend to it again.
“Will you need my assistance or are you capable of tending to your own wound today?” Tech's voice cuts through the quiet morning air, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever. It's always hard to discern whether he's being genuinely helpful or simply blunt.
Deciding to handle this task yourself this time, you nod, expressing your intention to manage it alone. And even though you wanted to do it alone, Tech approaches nonetheless, the battered med kit in hand.
With Tech standing by, you cautiously remove the old bandage, your stomach turning at the sight of the open wound. Despite the lack of fresh blood, the dried remnants are enough to make you feel queasy. "You do not like blood," Tech observes, his statement pulling your attention away from the gruesome sight.
"Hm, how could you tell?" you mutter sarcastically, attempting to deflect from the discomfort.
“I have always known,” Tech responds cryptically, his expression giving nothing away as he crouches down beside you.
Curiosity piqued, you inquired further, wondering how he could have possibly known your hatred for blood. After all, you couldn't recall ever mentioning it to him before. “I… have observed your behaviour before and just so happened to pick up on it. I also recall you mentioning it to Hunter when you first joined.”
Hm, that’s… surprising.
You say nothing of it and instead allow him to take care of you. As Tech takes over, gently raising your leg and propping it over his knee, you can't help but notice the care he takes.
Despite his typically relaxed demeanor, there's a hint of concern in his actions as he tells you that you ‘may want to avert your gaze’ as he begins to peel the old bandage away.
Happily, you turn your attention to the leaves above, trying to ignore the stinging sensation spreading through your leg and the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Though, the warm breeze brushes against your exposed skin, offering a slight comfort amidst the discomfort.
“H-How does it look?” you ask, your voice strained, the anxiety evident in your tone as you feel Tech's careful movements.
“It appears that you have an infection. And I do not have the right resources to treat it.” Your heart sinks at his words, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach as you try to suppress the rising panic.
“Great.”
“I will assume that is sarcasm,” he hums before passing you his canteen, “I found a water source last night. This has been purified and suitable to drink. I suggest you do that.”
Taking the canteen from his grasp, your mouth suddenly feels dry at the thought of water. You take a sip and can’t help but grimace at the taste, the bitterness lingering on your tongue. “Are you sure it’s been purified?”
“Yes, I did not say it will taste nice.”
You roll your eyes and take another remorseful sip before passing it back to him, your mind inadvertently drifting to the state of your leg. It looked worse than you anticipated.
“Shit.” You curse under your breath as you blink away the tears, the frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. Of course, your leg would get infected. Why would a crash-landing be a stroll in the park?
“I agree with your sentiments.” Tech's voice is steady as he carefully applies a new bandage, his movements precise and calculated. “I suggest you rest.”
“No,” you shake your head adamantly, meeting his gaze with determination, “I’m not going to sit here and do nothing. I have to do something.”
He blinks at you, frowning behind his goggles. “You are in no state to do anything. You are injured and so-.”
“So I’m a hindrance?” You challenge, the frustration evident in your tone as you refuse to back down.
“In a way, yes.” He says directly, the weight of his words hanging in the air as he stands up straight after carefully placing your leg down. “Any further injury could lead to loss of limb. Or worse. We cannot risk getting that leg infected even more. Do you not think you have caused enough grievance?”
Anger bubbles at his words, yet, a part of you knew he was right. You were both in this mess because of you but sitting on the forest floor doing nothing felt like a last resort. “Can you at least just help me stand up?” you grumble, your voice tinged with frustration. “Please?”
He hesitates, seemingly torn between his concern for your well-being and his reluctance to encourage any further strain on your injured leg. However, the dejected look on your face softens his resolve, knowing that he wouldn’t hear the end of it until he complies. Reluctantly, he extends his hand, offering you the support you need to rise to your feet.
Carefully, you put slight pressure on your leg, testing its strength. Surprisingly, it isn’t as painful as it was yesterday, giving you a glimmer of hope that you might be able to move around by limping or hopping for now—especially when Tech isn’t looking.
“Thanks,” you say stiffly, folding your arms over your chest, a mix of gratitude and stubbornness in your demeanor as you watch him pick something out of his pouch and hand it over to you. “What’s this?”
He presents you with a strange-looking leaf, its unfamiliar shape and texture raising your curiosity. “It is food. Edible. It is all I could find last night but will fill us with enough nutrients for now.”
The rest of the day didn’t unfold as smoothly as you both had hoped. While Tech ventured back to the shuttle in a bid to secure a signal to reach the others, you took it upon yourself to be productive. Somehow.
With the terrain familiar to you from extensive research in your past, thoughts of herbal remedies for injuries like the one on your leg flooded your mind. So, after crafting a makeshift walking stick from a discarded branch sturdy enough to support your weight, you set off from camp, determined to gather the necessary ingredients.
Luck seemed to be on your side as you found the correct herbs and plants without much difficulty. However, your return to camp was met with an annoyed-looking Tech, his frustration evident as he started an argument for your sudden departure and for not telling him where you were since comms were dead too; coupled with his ongoing concerns about your leg.
Insisting that you were fine, you proceeded to apply the herbal remedy to your wound, wrapping it back up and allowing nature to take its course. Though Tech couldn’t help but offer snide remarks whenever you winced at the slightest movement, your remedy proved effective in easing the discomfort for a while.
Meanwhile, Tech’s attempts to establish a signal to the others had proved fruitless, only adding to his growing frustration. He was normally very composed under pressure, but his visible agitation was somewhat unsettling, leaving you feeling both concerned and also quite upset to see him this way.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the camp, the atmosphere between you two remained tense. While you rested against the boulder again, Tech sat with his head in his hands, visibly weighed down by the day's events.
An uncharacteristic urge to ease his burden prompted you to speak up. “Why don’t you sleep? Try again tomorrow,” you suggest, breaking the silence and drawing his gaze across the flickering flames of the fire pit.
“One of us needs to stay awake and take watch,” he insists, decided on his decision straight away.
You frown, realising that you slept through most of the previous night, which meant… “Tech, did you not sleep last night?” you ask, your concern evident in your tone.
“No.” He mutters, “Like I said, one of us needs to stay awake.”
Squinting at him, a hint of annoyance creeps into your voice. “That’s not healthy, especially when we’re stuck like this. You need to sleep or something.”
“I am used to not getting sleep on the Marauder so I do not see why this is any different,” he counters, his stance firm.
Though grateful for his commitment to keeping watch, you can’t help but feel exasperated by his stubbornness. Rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around yourself as a chill sets in. “To be fair,” you begin, “I kept waking up last night. It was way too cold.”
“Yes, I noticed,” he responds, his tone softened slightly by the acknowledgement.
“Oh,” you say softly before closing your eyes, allowing the weariness of the day to wash over you. However, you’re abruptly jolted from the verge of sleep by the sound of movement nearby. With a start, you almost jump out of your skin as Tech stands in front of you.
“Stars Tech!” You gasp, his sudden proximity shocking you. “What?”
“I want you to go to sleep.”
You blink at him.
“Okay…?”
“So,” you watch him shift, his movements awkward, “I will let you sleep beside me.”
It takes you a moment to comprehend his meaning before you pull a strange face, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion and slight amusement. “Are you asking me to cuddle you?” The thought surprises you, but oddly enough, it doesn’t sound too bad right about now.
“I would not put it so conveniently,” he says, his tone betraying a hint of discomfort, “I am merely stating that I could use my body warmth to help you sleep.”
You’re taken aback by his offer, but exhaustion soon overwhelms any reservations you may have had. “Oh… well, if you’re okay with that?”
“I would not have offered otherwise.” Tech’s smile is small but genuine, and you can’t help but softly smile back as you both sit beside one another, gazing into the flames of the fire pit. Soon, you find your eyes trailing down to his bare hands, frowning as you notice they look quite sweaty; an odd sight considering the cool evening air.
Curiosity gets the better of you, and you gaze up at his face, finding him engrossed in fixing his datapad. But something seems off—his complexion appears clammy, and there’s a flush to his cheeks.
Instinctively, you reach out and place the back of your hand to his forehead, gasping at the unexpected heat radiating from his skin. “Tech!” You squeak, startling him. “You have a fever? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He doesn’t even look at you, giving off a look like a character who had been bitten by something in those horrible horror holomovies and pretends to hide the bite. “Tech,” you say his name again, more sternly. “Are you hurt?”
He sighs, dropping his device into his lap before he lifts his arm to you, showing a bandage of his own that is stained in dry blood. “As I was maneuvering through the shuttle, I just so happened to trip and catch my arm on some jagged metal. It is nothing to fret about.”
“Oh, come off it, you’re burning up.” Tech notices the slight worry in your tone, watching you lean to your other side as you produce the herbal paste you used on yourself earlier. “Let me put this on.”
“Rest and water will do me fine-.”
“That’s funny, seeing as you just told me you’d rather me sleep than yourself.” You say with a roll of your eyes, taking a firm yet gentle hold of his arm before you start to peel the bandage away, holding down your nausea just for him.
Tech watches you with a concerned gaze. “I must insist…” he trails off as his eyes move to the sticky paste, clearly uncertain about your own remedy.
“Don’t you trust me?” You ask, and time seems to freeze as you both lock eyes, speaking silently to one another. His gaze is strong and, albeit, quite hypnotising behind his yellow-tinted goggles. But, you seem to snap out of your gaze as he replies:
“I do.”
“Well,” you say, clearing your throat as you drop your gaze to his arm, “let me help you.”
You’re gentle with your movements, applying the remedy over his arm with precision. You could feel his stare on your face, and so you slowly looked back up at him, his face so near you could almost feel the warmth of his breath dancing on your skin. “See? That should help with the pain,” you find yourself whispering.
For once, the two of you didn’t seem to be at each other's necks, both of you seeming to try and read each other’s thoughts. Tech was not the best at reading feelings, and as you gaze into his eyes, you find yourself not being able to read his too.
Eventually, you look away. An unusual heat started to crawl up your neck, and you didn’t think it was from the flame from the fire or his ‘body warmth’ as he put it. Lack of sleep and lack of food and water. That had to be it.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, Tech?” You ask again as the drowsiness from before seeps back, and Tech turns his head away from you, inspecting his arm quietly before picking up his datapad once more.
“I am sure.”
The next day unfolded much like the one before it.
Tech grumbled about your mobility, his attempts to fix up the shuttle yielding no results, and the air between you both grew heavy with unspoken tension.
Yet, as nightfall descended once again, you found yourself nestled beside Tech, his warmth offering a rare respite, allowing you to drift into a peaceful sleep. And miraculously, your homemade remedy seemed to work wonders on both of you. You could now move with a bit more ease, and the infections on your injuries had cleared up.
But as you stared into the dancing flames that night, a wave of sorrow washed over you.
“You were right, you know?” you whispered into the night, the warmth of the fire casting flickering shadows on your face.
“About what?” Tech responded, his eyes fixed on his datapad, the soft glow illuminating his features.
Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes, and you struggled to keep them at bay, feeling utterly helpless. “That it was my fault… with the mission. If I had just let you do the data transfer instead of insisting I could do it then…” Your voice faltered, choked by a sob that escaped your lips, startling Tech. “Then we would’ve made it out in time! A-and the others… Tech, we don’t even know if they’re alive!”
Tech stared at you wide-eyed, your sudden outburst of emotion catching him off guard. Yet, amidst your tears streaming down your face and your hands clasped over your head, he uttered your name softly, “Mistakes happen.”
“But they don’t with you, Tech!” you cried, turning to face him. “You’re always so good, so perfect at everything you do, and I… I just wanted to prove myself to you! I always feel like I am not good enough for you, and that’s why you don’t like me.”
For a moment, the crackling of the fire was the only sound between you, the flames casting a warm glow on both of your faces. Tech's expression softened as he regarded you with understanding.
“Not liking you, is not something that ever crossed my mind,” he finally said, his voice low. “You were determined, and that is a trait that is to be commended. It is true, I often find it easier to rely on myself but I am programmed that way. But you, you gave it your all, and that is commendable. Do not be so hard on yourself.”
You sniffle, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The tears keep escaping your eyes, trailing down your cheeks as you struggle to contain your emotions. "But… because of me, you’re stuck here?"
Tech’s gaze softens, his eyes reflecting understanding. His voice carries a comforting warmth as he responds, “I am aware. But think how you would be if I were not here.”
Your mind whirls with the possibilities of what could have been, but you still feel terrible. "But we may not see the others again… we may not ever leave here." Your voice trembles with the weight of uncertainty, your heart heavy with guilt.
Tech’s gaze shifts away, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he adjusts his goggles. "We have to adapt to survive, we always have. And regarding the others, the probability of their survival is 89%. It is likely they are out there looking for us. And if I get the shuttle repaired enough to get a connection, I can send a signal and hope they pick up our coordinates.” His voice carries a note of determination.
You cling to his words like a lifeline, a glimmer of hope flickering in the depths of your despair. How could you have been so stupid? But, his words held promise but you can’t help but ask: "Promise me you’re not lying to me?"
“I have not once ever lied to you and I would not start now.” His response is steady, his words a soothing balm to your battered soul.
As your tears slowly subside, a tentative smile graces your lips. "Thanks Tech,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “I bet I look a mess right now. I’m a pretty ugly cryer.”
Tech’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he searches for the right words. "No, you look…” He trails off, his gaze lingering on your tear-streaked face. He reaches out, his touch feather-light as he gently brushes away a stray tear that glistens on your lashes.
“What?” you prompt, your breath catching in your throat at his unfamiliar touch as you meet his gaze.
“Like you,” he finishes, a little awkward but his words were imbued with sincerity as he offers you a small smile.
Emotion wells up inside you, a tidal wave of gratitude and affection crashing over you. Without a second thought, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. He freezes for a moment, taken aback by the sudden intimacy, before tentatively returning the hug, his arms encircling you in a protective cocoon.
As you’re wrapped in each other's embrace, you find solace; a fleeting moment of peace.
As sleep beckons, you can’t help but nestle closer to him, finding comfort in his presence as you drift off into the realm of dreams, his steady heartbeat a lullaby.
In the days that followed, a significant improvement became evident. Tech’s progress on the shuttle repair was slow, hampered by the absence of his proper tools. Despite the challenges, both of your injuries had begun to heal, and the atmosphere in camp had lightened considerably.
Although the water still tasted like dirt, you were no longer dehydrated. Discovering some rare fruits that proved not to be poisonous added to the uplifting spirit.
At night, neither of you seemed to mind huddling for warmth. You would lay against him, listening to the plans and stories he had, especially if you begged him to tell you. Although they were very matter-of-fact and not overly entertaining, you found the tales of the squad before you joined enjoyable. You both no longer bickered, clearing the air of past arguments, and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. Although it was not like either of you had any other options.
But that’s not the only thing that had changed. You found yourself getting nervous around Tech. A good kind of nervous. When he was working on the shuttle, you couldn’t help but sit back and admire him at work. He was attractive, sure, but you found him more than that. He listened intently to you, offering advice and tips without seeming to mansplain to you.
So that night by the fire again, sitting by his side, you weren’t so surprised about the next set of events.
“What are you going to do when we leave this place?” You ask, your body twisting to face him as you rest your elbow against the boulder, hand on the side of your head as you lean yourself up to look at him.
He smiles, noticing how you said ‘when’ and not ‘if’, highlighting your trust in him. “I will most likely do what I usually do, get ready for the next mission set for us.”
You roll your eyes. “You don’t want to celebrate?”
“Celebrate what, exactly?”
“Well,” you start with a soft laugh, “us finally putting our differences aside and not killing each other for one.” You suggest, earning a fond chuckle from the clone before continuing. “And surviving.”
He thinks for a moment, looking into the flames and then at you. “I suppose those are adequate reasons to celebrate, yes. Will the others be joining?”
“Sure,” you say with a smile but there’s a small swirl in your stomach as you say, “unless… you don’t want them to join us?”
Tech blinks, and for a second, it was like he was short-circuiting as he thinks about your proposal. Was it flirtation in your tone or had he imagined it? “I do not mind either way,” he explains, his chest slightly puffing out. “It would be nice to perhaps talk like this in a more formal setting elsewhere. Just us.”
You silently suck in a deep breath, a shy glint in your eyes. “I think I’d like that, yeah.” Your tone lowered, and you can’t help but notice that Tech had turned his body more to face you. Then, his eyes flickered to your lips as you inadvertently licked them, chapped but tinged with the sweetness of the fruit before.
You hold his gaze, slightly tilting your head as you take a gamble and look to his lips, then to his eyes. It was an invitation, and you hoped that Tech got the hint.
And he did.
Slowly, he sets his datapad to one side, finally letting it go as he focuses all of his attention on you. There’s a charge in the air, and you see him lean closer... and closer…
Your breath hitches, eyes slowly falling shut as he closes the distance, his nose brushing against yours before his lips meet your own in a soft, shy kiss. Leaning more into it, your hand finds refuge on his leg whilst one of his hands comes up and cups your cheek.
You sigh into him, heart racing as you feel him grow bolder. His lips, warm and inviting, meld with yours, igniting a spark that you both had been unknowingly kindling. His touch sends shivers down your spine as the kiss deepens, becoming more desperate, more intense. The jungle, the planet, the whole star system around you seems to fade away.
Tech utters your name against your lips, your soft moan of a response allowing his tongue into your mouth, exploring, igniting a fiery passion within you.
Gently, he lays you down by the fire, the crackling flames casting dancing shadows across his face. He pulls away for a moment, pulling his goggles off his face as he peers down at you, his eyes a dance of different emotions. “You are enchanting.”
But with a hunger that can no longer be contained, he crashes his lips back to yours, now allowing you to let your tongue meet his in a fervent dance; fingers tangling in his untamed hair meanwhile his hands roam over your body.
The next day brought a breakthrough. Tech managed to gain contact.
Overwhelmed by joy, you ran into Tech’s arms, jumping and letting him spin you around with a chuckle as you knew both of you would soon be saved! And better yet, the others were alive and safe too.
“I can’t believe you did it! You really did it.” You grin at him as he pulls back from the hug but does not let you down, instead cradles you in his arms.
“You seem surprised.”
“Oh Tech,” you say adoringly, leaning forward and giving his lips a soft kiss, smiling as he hums against your lips.
“I will never get tired of you kissing me,” he utters, truly in awe of how this sudden turn of events had happened. It was quick, but neither of you seemed to mind.
Last night was magic. All the bad memories had faded from your mind, solely just focusing on Tech and yourself. When all hope had seemed lost, your mistake led you to one of the best choices you ever could make. And maybe, that promised date would become something more.
Masterlist is pinned😊
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Awwwww ❤️ I'm so happy to have an Echo ending! Can't wait to see what you do for Wrecker!
You get injured - Echo ending
(From the chose your own ending fic, found here)
Notes: treating injuries, Echo being in denial lol, passing out, fluff like the clouds
Hunter said Echo’s name, which he had spent the last few seconds hoping he didn’t. Not because he hates you or anything, it was just the fact that he was one of the most rule-following clones out there, which implies that he’d try his best to fight his feelings for you.
But, also as a strictly rule-following clone, he took his orders from Hunter, and helped you up off the dirty platform ground, giving Hunter a quick “I know what you’re up to” glance. “That doesn’t look good.” He stated.
“You can say that again.” You sighed.
“Echo, Take them back to the marauder. Tech—“
“—we need Echo, Hunter. He’s our best chance at a swift and successful tracking change if our target tries to move.” Hunter was cut off by tech.
“Right,” Hunter sighed, “Tech? Would you be able to get them there?”
“Yes. Echo, take my datapad for tracking information.” Echo nodded, a little crestfallen at the fact he couldn’t help you.
“Don’t worry, Echo. I’ll be…mostly fine. That was a stupid move.”
“Yes, but you need urgent medical attention.” Tech slung your arm over his head in replacement of Echo’s, handing him his datapad. Echo gave you a nod as you and Tech started walking back towards the ship.
The others set off, but Echo took a second of hesitation, watching the state you were now in. Crosshair nudged his shoulder. “C’mon. Tech will take good care of them.”
“Yeah. I know.” Echo shook his head, refocusing on the mission at hand.
————
By the time you and Tech reached the Marauder, the shock was wearing off, but the lightheadedness got worse.
Tech sat you down at the navicomputer and retrieved a med kit from one of the storage compartments.
“Try your best to stay conscious, but you will likely pass out for a while.”
“Amazing.” You weakly gave your last bit of sarcasm. A trademark Echo move, probably something he would snicker at, you thought.
Tech patched prepared the equipment necessary to close the wound and remove the knife. “I’m—getting a little…faint..” you slurred as your vision was depleting rapidly.
“Yes. You’re probably about to lose consciousness. Echo and the others will have returned when you wake up.”
And with that, you fell into a drowsy sleep.
——————
The familiar hum of hyperspace against the ship’s hull was the first thing to re-enter your senses. Then it was the idle chatter of Wrecker and Echo, and you tried opening your eyes and sitting up from the cot you had appeared to be placed on.
One of Crosshair’s legs hung off the side of the cot above you, evidence of him getting his spot before Wrecker stole it from him, even if you were directly under it.
Echo noticed your stirring and walked over to help you up. “How are you feeling?” He asked.
“Painful.” You responded, earning a tsk of laughter from him.
“Been there.” He said, placing a hand on your shoulder, offering extra support to regain your balance.
“Hey!” Wrecker said, “Glad to have ya back.”
“Thanks Wreck.”
——————
As the evening went on, you figured you’d have trouble sleeping until you were tired enough to sleep through the pain. Echo offered to play a game of Sabacc, which Wrecker did not have very good luck in, and Echo’s apparent experience in the game gave him an upper hand over Tech, who was quickly catching on.
After Wrecker, Tech, and Hunter went to bed, Echo said he would stay up longer with you until you were tired. “Echo, you really don’t have to. The mission was probably tiring.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’d rather stay up a little longer than have you be in pain all night.”
You sighed. “Echo…”
“Really. I don’t care. Well—I care that you get proper entertainment before you rest.”
You couldn’t help but smile at that. The infectious effect it had on Echo was apparent in how he subtly beamed right back. “Okay, fine. I’ll allow it.” You said with the heavy sarcastic tone once again.
Then Echo did something a little unexpected: he laughed. It wasn’t a little huff of a laugh, it wasn’t a snicker, it was a short, well-meaning laugh. You joined in momentarily, the sound of his laughter immediately lit up your mood.
“Wow. I gotta say,” he said after a moment, “you are one of very few people who can make me laugh.”
“Hmm. Maybe I’ll abuse that power..” you put a hand up to your chin and squinted your eyes, giving mischievous look.
That only made Echo laugh more, and in turn, you too. He looked back up at you, but he glanced away quickly.
“You good?” You said after laughter died down. “You keep looking away.”
“Ah—sorry. I keep doing that. I’m fine.” Echo’s face flushed.
“Sure about that?”
Echo looked and felt like he might have very well exploded in that moment. He knew you’d keep asking him until he actually told you what was happening.
“Hey, you can talk to me.” You comforted.
Echo took a pause before he spoke, treading over his words carefully. “I…and, don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but…you know I like playing by the book.”
You nodded in skeptic agreement.
Echo sighed. “I…think I…probably have uh—feelings for you?”
Your heartbeat was starting to pick up.
“Look. I really enjoy your company. And honestly, I have no idea what I’d do without you.” His pale skin was turning redder by the minute. “I’ve just been—trying to get myself to lose interest, because I’m a soldier of the republic, and that isn’t the best of circumstances…and even if I wasn’t…there’s no way I’d have a chance with you.”
A moment of quiet.
“Echo…” you said, placing your hand on top of his, “do you really think that?”
He gave you a a quick glance, then looked back at the floor.
“You should’ve just told me. You definitely have a chance with me.”
He turned his hand over to hold yours, and then looked back up at you with eyes that held the whole sky.
“…really?”
“Really.”
You placed your hand on his cheek, and slowly moved closer to kiss him on the lips.
————— yippee!! Almost a year after the intro’s release this is done!! 🥲 Hope you enjoyed!!!! :D ——————
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I love this! ❤️ It's so hard to find any hurt/comfort for Wrecker. I love this ❤️
hi!! just read both of your wrecker works and rineicbeijcwjkdjs LOVED THEM!! wrecker’s my fav of tbb and i really feel like he needs more love😭 i'm gonna be checking out some of your other works later lol
anyways i saw that you were taking requests, so i went through your prompt list and saw two that caught my eye. they're 24. “You need to wake up because I can't do this without you.” and 18. “I almost lost you.”
i was wondering if you could write something with those prompts for wrecker please? like tbb + reader were able to rescue omega, crosshair, and tech (i am believer in tech surviving season 2 finale), but the reader got seriously injured during the rescue and is now in a coma. wrecker would be the one to say the prompts and it would be angsty like wrecker thinking the reader might die. but please let this end happily.
other than those details i trust your writing skills and process for anything! take your time writing, there's absolutely no rush!! and again your writing is soooo awesome!!😊😊
Well hello there!
I'm so glad you enjoyed those fics, and thank you for popping this request in - so sorry it's taken me so long to write it! I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope it hits the spot 😁
I guess it's also technically canon divergent now S3 is out, haha 😅
Through the Darkness
No one said rescuing the rest of the Batch from Mount Tantiss would be easy - you just didn't expect it to go like this.
Pairing: Wrecker x F!reader
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: canon typical violence, reader in a coma for a bit, little bit of angst, but also dashes of hope, happily ever after.
Translations:
sarad - flower
Hemlock has his hands on you, his blaster pressed to your temple. The sounds of fighting cease. Dead TK Troopers litter the floor. Wrecker and his siblings freeze, slowly lowering their weapons.
Your back is pressed to Hemlock’s chest, and there isn’t a clean shot at him.
“Anyone moves and your dear liaison will pay the price,” Hemlock states.
Rage flows through Wrecker. You were in danger, too far for him to grab and shield, and he had no idea what to do. He glances at his siblings – Omega curled against Hunter’s side with weariness painted on her face, Tech leaning heavily against Echo for support as his body protests the prolonged time standing. Crosshair had peeled off from the group earlier, searching for what or who none of them was sure. They were all back together again. A family again. He wasn’t about to let Hemlock take you from them.
Shakes start in your thighs, slowly creeping up your body until your arms and hands tremble, too. You’ve been in dangerous situations before, had your life threatened before - but you’re certain Hemlock would do it. The man is crazy and will stop at nothing to get his hands on your family. The sound of his verbal back and forth with Hunter is like white noise.
The slightest movement in the rafters above catches your attention, and your eyes dart up. Battered and bruised, Crosshair has found a vantage point and a rifle. Those hawkish eyes meet yours, and a silent conversation is shared. You do the maths. There’s only one way out of this. Thank the Maker you still trust him, even after everything.
You give an almost imperceivable nod, knowing he’ll catch it. You flick your gaze to the others, taking one last look, just in case. Echo, who’d joined you all near the end of the war and had so seamlessly slipped into the fold of your family. Tech, worse for wear after his fall on Eriadu, but with that same solid determination in his eyes. Hunter, the man who’d welcomed you into the squad all those years ago, listened when you shared your thoughts and didn’t make a fuss when you broke terrible news to them about the next mission. Omega, trying to hide her fear through bravery – so much for a young girl with such a pure heart to endure. And Wrecker, the imposing force of a man who’d always put himself between you and danger, who reached for you at every opportunity and consoled you when things had gotten too much – the man you’d quietly loved for some time.
With a shaky breath, you close your eyes, placing all your faith in Crosshair. The quiet sniper who’d at first sneered at you and flicked toothpicks in your face before he’d thawed out and helped perfect your aim, taught you how to use his rifle, and what to look out for when scouting.
The sound of his shot reverberates around the hanger, and milliseconds later, searing pain tears through your shoulder, pulling a piercing cry from your lips. Legs giving out, you crumple, welcoming the cold durasteel you hit.
You don’t know if they all made it out, but you pray they did.
Wrecker hasn’t moved in weeks, refusing to leave you alone. The memory of you being shot won’t leave him; the sound of your agony is stuck on repeat. You’d been in bacta for what felt like forever, the shiny skin on your shoulder a testament to its healing power, but it wasn’t enough to wake you from the coma you’d slipped into. Pabu’s only Doctor had insisted on removing you from the tank once your physical wounds had healed, transferring you to a standard medical bed.
Crosshair’s shot had torn through your shoulder, but the angle had been perfect. Wrecker hadn’t expected any less from his little brother. The bolt had exited you and entered Hemlock, hitting him straight in the chest. A kill shot. That hadn’t killed you. Or so Wrecker hoped. Even if you woke, your shoulder would likely ache for the rest of your life, and your arm would not be as strong as before.
The sound of the door opening pulls Wrecker’s gaze from your prone form and across the small room in Pabu’s clinic. Crosshair slides through the crack in the door, thin lips pressed together, brow pinched. He visits often, guilt in his eyes every time he looks you over. You might’ve okayed the shot, but it still tore at the sniper’s soul to have hurt you.
“Nothing?” Crosshair rasps, sticking close to the door as he glances between you and his brother. He’d never admit it, but fear was starting to settle in his gut. If you didn’t wake…
“Nothin’.” Wrecker confirms, shoulders slumped. “Been talkin’ to her. Doc said she might be able to hear us. Not that it’s doin’ much good.” He sighs, gaze shifting back to you. “Told her we all got out okay. That you and Tech and the kid are alright. Don’t want her worryin’.”
Crosshair makes a slight noise, acknowledging his brother’s words as his gaze lingers on your prone form.
“You stayin’ a bit?” Wrecker asks, using one foot to push out the spare chair at his side – the rest of their siblings often visited, too.
Hesitating, Crosshair lets out a small sigh as he moves across the room, lowering himself silently into the chair. He hadn’t stayed before, preferring to flit in for any news before disappearing. It hurt too much to see you this way, knowing he’d caused it. That and he was still working through everything that had happened during his time with the Empire, trying to fix his relationships with his siblings. But Wrecker needed him, so he’d stay.
You’d always hated the dark.
The shadows surround you, pressing in from all sides. Yet amidst the inky darkness, you find yourself standing in a solitary spot of light, its glow offering a semblance of warmth amidst the chill of the void. The lights kept appearing, and you’d learned quickly that when a new one glistened on the horizon, you had to run for it before the light you were already standing in disappeared.
You’d lost track of how many lights you’d chased so far.
Each one varied in intensity – sometimes brilliant beacons, other times mere flickers barely piercing the gloom. Yet, regardless of their brightness, they all held a magnetic pull, drawing you forward with an unyielding force. And each time you reached one, a brief respite washed over you, a fleeting moment before the next journey into the unknown began.
Scanning the horizon, you spot another light starting to beckon, its faint glow a promise of safety. With a heavy heart, you know what you need to do.
Taking a deep breath, you burst into a sprint. Each step forward is a battle against the darkness, its tendrils reaching out like icy fingers, eager to drag you into its embrace. Goosebumps prickle your arms, heart pounding as fear gnaws at your insides, but a stubborn determination fuels your movements. You can’t afford to falter, to succumb to the darkness, not after everything.
Worry lingers at the edge of your consciousness, a constant reminder of uncertainty. What lay beyond the lights? Will you ever find your way back to the world you once knew? The questions taunt you, echoing in your mind relentlessly the longer you spend here.
Yet, a glimmer of hope remains amidst the fear and uncertainty. Though the darkness threatens to overwhelm you, there must be a reason for the light. There has to be something causing it. Blessing you with it. Giving you these small moments of respite and keeping you in one piece.
You keep going. One foot in front of the other.
A shove yanks Wrecker out of sleep, and the big man jolts awake with a small yelp.
Crosshair snickers, leaning back in his seat, drawing his hand back towards his chest. “Sleeping on the job, vod.” He can’t help but jibe, his smirk melting into a frown at the sound of Wrecker’s stomach growling. “When’s the last time you ate?” He asks. He hadn’t wanted to wake him, seeing him finally getting some rest, but the sun was high in the sky now, and Crosshair knew it wouldn’t be long until Omega and Hunter swung by.
Blinking, Wrecker’s mind takes a moment to catch up with the fact he’s awake. “Urm, yesterday? Maybe?” He guesses, not really sure. The days were starting to blend together.
With a huff, Crosshair stands, long legs unfolding. “Will get you something. Can’t wither away before she wakes.” He mutters, grateful for the opportunity to leave and not have to sit any longer in silence with his feelings – he’d done enough of that for the day.
With a slight nod of appreciation, Wrecker watches as Crosshair heads out the door, hearing the gentle click of it shutting behind him. Hand wiping over his face, Wrecker shifts in the chair, stretching a little. But he can’t avoid the inevitable forever, and although it pains him, he looks you over for what feels like the millionth time.
Despite his imposing stature, he feels powerless.
He hadn’t been able to protect you - the woman he loves. He’s loved you since the moment he first met you in the hanger of a Venator, as you’d been assigned to him and his brothers as their liaison. You’d offered them a smile that had rendered him speechless, and his booming laughter had then filled the hanger when you’d quipped back at Crosshair as he'd sneered about them not needing a babysitter.
You kept them on their toes and blended in so seamlessly with their chaotic lives.
Without an audience, Wrecker clears his throat, leaning forward in his seat to gently take your tiny hand in his much larger one. “I hope ya can hear me, sarad.” He starts, voice mellow. “Been a few weeks now since we got ’em back.” He’s not sure how much you’re aware of, if the passing of time is something you’re experiencing. “Cross was just here. Finally sat for a bit. Think he feels guilty.” Wrecker pauses, brows furrowing, face pinching. “I feel guilty. Should have protected ya, kept ya close.” Wrecker’s voice cracks a little, emotion seeping through.
“We’re all here, though. Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what. Can’t wait for ya to wake up and tell us all how much trouble we’re in.” He chuckles softly, a hint of sadness in the sound. “Just...ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.” He admits, a well of emotion pressing down on his chest.
Wrecker’s words hang heavy in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable even in the silence of the clinic. He wishes he could shake this feeling of helplessness and do more than just sit by your side, waiting for a sign of life. But for now, all he can offer is his unwavering presence and a steady stream of conversation, hoping against hope that somewhere within your subconscious, you can hear him.
Keep going. You need to keep going.
The darkness claws at you, desperate to slow you down and draw you into its embrace. But the light grows closer with every step you take, with every thud of your heart as you race forward. Amidst your footsteps echoing in the void is the faintest whisper of something familiar.
No.
Not something.
Someone.
“Wreck!” You cry out into the darkness, feet faltering for a second as you recognise the deep voice. The darkness tries to take advantage of your momentary hiccup, but with a yelp, you pick up your pace. The hope that lingers in your heart explodes. As you draw closer to the light, Wrecker’s voice comes into focus. “Ain’t leavin’ ya, no matter what.”
With renewed determination, you push yourself harder, every muscle in your body screaming for rest, but you refuse to give in. The light grows brighter, its warmth now palpable against your skin.
And then, just as you’re on the verge of stepping into the light, a sudden force knocks you off balance, sending you sprawling onto the cold, hard ground. Panic grips your chest as you scramble, desperate to continue your pursuit.
But the darkness has other plans, closing in around you like a suffocating blanket, obscuring the light. Amidst the coldness creeping through your body, you cling to the memory of Wrecker’s voice, a lifeline in the darkness.
Body straining, you crawl forward, ignoring the pain and exhaustion, determination burning bright within you. You don’t belong in the darkness. You belong in the light. With them. With him.
Straining, you reach out an arm, trembling fingers skimming the edge of the light as Wrecker’s voice comes through loud and clear. “…ya need to wake up ’cause I can’t do this without you.”
The darkness recoils.
With a final surge of strength, you propel yourself forward, breaking free from the suffocating grip of the void. The light envelops you, wrapping you in its warm embrace as the shadows recede into the distance, getting further and further away. Relief floods through you, tears of joy mingling with sweat on your cheeks.
Head tilting back, you look up at the light, a bubble of laughter escaping as you bask in the glow. Eyes fluttering shut, you savour the moment. Yet this time, when you open your eyes, there’s no darkness or blinding light anymore.
You blink. Once. Twice. The soft hum of medical equipment fills the air. And there, beside you, is Wrecker, head bowed, the weight of his hand wrapped around yours.
Everything seems to freeze except the frantic thudding of your heart. “Wreck…” You whisper, your voice hoarse from disuse as you dare to hope you’re back. Really back.
Wrecker’s head jolts up at the rasped sound of his name, his good eye widening as he meets your gaze, your name falling from his lips as his features crumple, a heaving sob of relief escaping him.
You slowly sit up, wincing at the ache that shoots through your shoulder. It’s still tender, but the pain is nothing compared to the overwhelming flood of emotions that wash over you at the sight of Wrecker’s tear-streaked face.
You reach out, cupping his cheek in your hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you in reality. “I’m here.” You murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure if you’re trying to convince yourself or him.
Wrecker’s grip tightens around your hand as if afraid you might slip away again if he lets go. He leans into your touch, his words catching in his throat momentarily before he stands, leaning over the bed to envelop you in an embrace, protective yet gentle, conscious of your shoulder. “You’re back.” He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “Thought I almost lost ya.”
Weak but grateful, you return his embrace, feeling the warmth of his presence washing over you, grounding you in reality. A lump forms in your throat at the thought of him worrying about you, thinking he would lose you. “Not going anywhere, big guy.” You reassure him, sniffling as you try to keep a lid on your emotions. “The others?” You ask cautiously, dread curling in your gut.
“All made it,” Wrecker confirms, arms slowly uncurling from around you as he sits back in his chair, hand scooping up yours so he can maintain some contact.
Your dread is swept away and replaced immediately by relief; this time, you don’t bother holding back your sobs.
“No cryin’, pretty girl. Please.” Wrecker’s heart aches at the sight, his free hand moving to cup your face and wipe away the tears.
You smile through your tears, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions. Wrecker’s touch is like a lifeline. “Sorry.” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to reign in your feelings. “Just...so relieved.”
Wrecker offers you a tender smile. “No need to apologise, sarad,” he murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. A bolt of courage has him leaning forward to gently kiss your forehead.
As Wrecker’s lips meet your forehead, warmth seeps through you, chasing away the last remnants of the dark coldness. He pulls back a little, his gaze meeting yours, and the air feels electric. Without a word, you lean forward, closing the distance between you as your lips finally meet his in a soft, tentative kiss.
And you realize that amidst the chaos and darkness, love has always been the guiding light, leading you back to where you belong.
Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog @leftealeaf @isaidonyourknees
Sign up to be tagged in my future fics.
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My favorite scene ❤️😂
he's such a parent
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Yessss ❤️ Kix needed some happy after the angst I've put him through 😂
Thanks for reading!
Born for This
This is my gift for @starborncyare-deactivated202303 as a part of the @cloneficgiftexchange (which you should go and check out bc there are a TON of amazing fic authors).
Prompt: "Cyar'ika no." // "But it followed me back to camp!"
P.S. Sorry for posting so late tonight. I meant to post it earlier but life got in the way. Hope you like it though!
Holy crap I tagged the wrong person 😱😱😱 I'm so sorry!
Warnings: None?
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"Where in the kriffing galaxy have you be -" Kix stuttered, cutting himself off as you walked through the door holding what looked like a large bundle of towels. Whatever you were carrying barely fit in your arms. "Uh...what is that?"
Before you could respond, the bundle began to wiggle and two long angular ears popped out of the top.
Kix's look of concern flipped to one of disbelief in a matter of nanoseconds.
Oh Force, not again.
Jesse and Hardcase had brought him an injured tooka the week before and it had wrecked havoc in his med bay when it got loose. Kix desperately hoped this wouldn't be a repeat of that disaster.
Though, despite his initial worries, he had to smile. You did look awfully cute sporting that wide grin of yours. He loved how the tip of your nose crinkled when you were truly happy.
Kix took a step forward, curiously peering at the creature cocooned in your arms.
Oh. Kriff.
He almost wished it was a feral tooka.
He slid his hand down his face and took a deep breath as he stepped back. "Cyar'ika," he said evenly, keeping his voice as calm as he could muster. "Please tell me that isn't what I think it is."
You looked down as the creature in question poked his head out from beneath the towel, large yellow eyes curiously gazing around the room.
"This little guy?" You cooed at the large cub. He barely fit in your arms.
"Little!?" Kix almost yelled, shooting you an incredulous look. "That thing is a gundark and could very easily tear you apart!"
As if on cue, the cub let out a purring growl before yawning, displaying rows of razor sharp teeth.
You frowned. "His name is Tiny and I don't think he likes what you just said about him."
Kix pinched the bridge of his nose, not quite believing the scene before him.
"You named it!?"
You nodded enthusiastically.
"And....what made you decide to bring it here?"
The gundark whined, knocking his head against your shoulder, blinking up at you.
"He was wandering around just outside the base. I think there's something wrong with his paw. He was limping and I thought you could help him!"
"It is a gundark, cyar'ika. Please get it out of my med bay before it eats someone."
Your expression fell. "But he's hurt! He doesn't have a mom anymore! We have to keep him!"
"No. Absolutely not. Go outside. Put it down immediately and go wash your hands."
"But he followed me back to camp! I think he thinks I'm his mom now. Please at least just help me patch him up!"
Kix sighed. Part of him wanted to yell at you, tell you that the cub was dangerous, that it could seriously hurt you. Kix had seen brothers be torn to pieces by these creatures. He could still hear their screams as they were eaten alive. He wanted that danger as far away from you as possible.
On the other hand, the amount of compassion you displayed towards this injured animal was the same kindness he'd seen you show daily as you helped nurse his wounded brothers back to health. You were born for this - he saw it everyday. Watching you be so gentle towards such a bloodthirsty creature stirred something inside of him. You were strong, he knew that, and as much as he tried to keep you out of trouble, danger just followed along behind, but you faced it head on with such a genuine, loving thoughtfulness. It was part of who you were.
Maybe it was time to act on those feelings that had been growing stronger day by day.
Kix chuckled softly as his hand grazed your shoulder. He smiled warmly, latching onto that growing sparkle of dedicated excitement in your eyes.
"Alright, cyar'ika. Let's see what we're working with."
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Oops... Haha yeah 😂 This one's ANGSTY 😅
Glad you liked it though! ❤️
My Sunshine is Sleeping
When Kix lost you, his whole world shattered.
A/N: Uhmm..I wanted to write a little angst and then it just got real dark. Oops...
Warnings: Reader death. Blood. War. Mentions of panic attacks. Hurt with no comfort. (Maybe a teeny bit of comfort at the end of you squint)
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The other night dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms.
***
For the first time in what felt like forever, Kix was truly happy. The campaign had gone well, there were minimal casualties, and you were beside him. Lying next to you, feeling the rise and fall of your chest against his own, Kix wished for an end to the war. If it were up to him, he'd never leave your side again. He placed a kiss to your forehead, chuckling as a sigh of contentment parted your lips with a small, sleepy smile.
"I don't know how I got to be so lucky, cyar'ika," he whispered. Kix pulled you closer as though to shield you from the world with his own body. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. "I love you, cyare." He placed his arm around you so that his hand rested on your chest. He froze. Instead of caressing the smoothness of your skin, his hands were met with a hot, sticky liquid that Kix knew all too well.
Terrified, he jumped up, turning the lights on. There was so much blood. Too much. It coated his hands, drying beneath his nails. It coated his chest. Panic bubbled through his core. "Cyare!? Cyare, you... you're bleeding!"
This wasn't supposed to happen here. This was your bedroom, not a battlefield. How did this happen?
He couldn't see your face, you'd turned your back to him, hunched over, trying to relieve the pain. The sheets turned crimson. Kix's face turned pale. Instantly, the paralyzing horror snapped to the professional, practiced job he was trained for.
"Cyar'ika, show me where you're bleeding! What hurts?" he cried, preparing to race to your side.
But Kix found that he couldn't move.
Screaming in frustration, he reached for the bed pulling and wrenching at his own limbs desperate to reach his beloved, but it seemed as if the ground itself was slowly sucking him down deeper and deeper into it's inky black void.
"Cyar'ika!" he screamed. "No! Let me go! Let me help her!"
Soft sobs echoed in the room, coming from the bed. From you.
Kix's heart turned to ice, terror flooding his veins as you twisted, facing him. It was as if he'd been ejected from the air lock, like all the air in the room had been sucked away. You were bleeding heavily from a wound to your chest. Maker, it was so much blood. With shaky hands you reached out for him.
"Where were you, Kix?" Your tears mixed with the blood flowing down your agonized face.
The words were only a whisper falling from your lips now, heartbreak lining every contour of your stained face: "Help me, Kix."
You coughed as blood bubbled from your lips.
"Cyare I'm coming! Hold on! Please!" he begged. His throat burned as he screamed, flailing, pulling muscles trying to reach you. But you were so far away, and Kix was slowly sinking into the ground.
"I was scared, Kix. I called for you but you didn't come!" Your ghostly voice grew louder and with a final burst of energy you screamed. "You killed me Kix! It's your fault.
All his fault.
Kix's body shook as he lay on the ground, the strength of his own limbs had long since depleted. Heaving sobs wracked his broken body.
"I couldn't save you. I tried so hard. I was too late. I'm so sorry, cyar'ika, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."
In a flash of lightning you were in his arms again as he cradled your lifeless body in his arms not caring that the battle around him was still raging. Thunder rumbled as rain poured down as if the sky itself was weeping. Maybe it was. Maybe the galaxy itself was weeping - both for you and tragedy of war itself. He screamed.
***
Kix blinked and then he was in the barracks. His head hurt and the pillow beneath his face was wet. Breathe. Breathe.
Rex, his Captain - his friend - knelt in front of him, placing heavy hands on his shoulders.
"Kix! Look at me, Kix." He commanded, stern but his eyes were sad. Worried.
"You have to let her go, vod." the Captain said. His voice was gentle, yet still commanding. A good leader took care of his men. "She wouldn't want you to live like this, vod. Let her go. In time you will heal."
***
But when I woke dear, I was mistaken. So I hung my head and I cried
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If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️
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🫂😍 Kix certainly needs some loving ❤️ Thanks for reading!
The Hands of Father Time
50 years is a long time. Kix searches for peace and closure.
A/N: Poor Kix. I don't know why I do this to him. He doesn't deserve it. I'm so sorry. I swear I'll write a happy one next time.
Warnings: PostStasis!Kix. Angst. Sad memories.
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There's an old woman here who sits by the forest. She usually keeps to herself - silent as she meditates. If you take the time to listen, she'll tell you her story - how she fought beside some of the bravest men she's ever met. She smiles when she tells you about them, but it's always bittersweet. When one war ended, she bravely fought another when all she wanted to do was lie down and die. There's a longing in her eyes, gazing ahead at someone no one else can see. At dusk, she returns home only to come back at sunrise to sit once more in meditation.
She has nightmares sometimes. I've heard her crying in her sleep. It's always names. Jesse. Kix. Hardcase. I'm not sure who they are but I can tell she loves them. Or loved them. They're all dead now, I think. She misses them. Sometimes, when she thinks she's alone, I hear her whisper to them. She apologizes; begs for their forgiveness.
She's hurting inside. Even when she's awake, she still sees ghosts. They follow her around and steal her breath away when she dwells there too long. She watches them die again and again when she closes her eyes. That's why she's so angry. She's so sad and so scared, and so alone. Through the Force she tries hard to find peace, but it doesn't come. Go to her. Find her and she will find peace.
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50 years is a long time. Kix sits in the back of a bar on a planet he's never been to before, holding the letter that he's read again and again.
But some things never change. Lights dance over the walls while rowdy patrons move to the music with a beat that Kix can feel in his bones.
"You seem lonely." A blue skinned Twi-lek saunters up to him, running her fingers lightly down his arm. "I can help with that." She winks at him, leaning so close that he can smell her perfume. Her outfit clings to every curve, accentuating every asset. Kix lets his eyes linger only for a moment before he shakes his head, politely dismissing her. She huffs and stalks away. "Your loss, handsome."
Kix leans back into his booth, closing his eyes. If he stayed here too long, he'd see Fives over at the bar, chatting up a pretty girl. He'd see Echo sitting not far behind, egging his brother on with a grin, all the while keeping an ever vigilant eye on his back. Blinking through the haze, Kix's eyes imagine Jesse challenging him to a game of whatever he and Hardcase decided to play that night. If he closes his eyes, he can almost hear their voices.
This is too much. The noise. The lights. The thumping base that rattles his bones. The memories. But they're all long dead. You're too late.
Though he hasn't had a drink, Kix stumbles outside into the alleyway gasping for breath. He slides down the wall as his legs give way. The tears come heavy and hot. His breaths come faster and faster until his face goes numb, lungs aching for reprieve.
**********************************************
Fifty years is a long time. Kix slowly steps from his speeder. He'd been longing for answers but now he's afraid of what he might find.
A woman sits on a bench overlooking a neverending forest. Her silver hair blows gentle and free with every airy breeze. She knows that he's here simply by the beating of his heart and by the longing in his soul. Fifty years is a long time.
"I've missed you, Kix." Her voice is deeper than he remembers. He can't respond; his body won't let him. "I've missed you so much."
Yes, it was still her voice. Older, matured with age and wiser by experience, but still her voice. Even after a hundred years Kix would know that voice.
"I..." The tears came again, catching him by surprise. He sat down beside her, gently grasping her hands - now spotted and fragile with age. He held her close to his side. "I'm here now, Mesh'la. I'm here."
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If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️
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@photogirl894 and @dragonrider9905 thanks for the tags!
👀 Does this count? 🤤🤤😏
NPT: @the-rain-on-kamino @zoeykallus @im-no-jedi @lightwise
Doing one of these but with my mutuals after seeing this image on my dash today!!
..Y'know he may be the god of war but.. I'm not mad. No, no not at all. :)
@xxgalacticambitionsxx @hatbox-apologist @ghostingyourass79 @kittieshauntedourfantasy @emerald194 @thatonerabbit @comical-icicle
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**ragu and originals below the cut
ragu: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @starstofillmydream @mooncommlink @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal l @rabbitstu99 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mythical-illustrator @sverdgier @arctrooper69 @jedi-hawkins @calsdroid @vithepotato
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Oh 💔🥹 This is so beautifully bittersweet ❤️
Self
Read here on Ao3!
Angstpril 2024 | Day 21 | Prompt 21: Faking a Smile
Rated: G | Words: 238 | Summary: Omega tries. | Character Focus: Omega
She is supposed to be happy.
To be free, to be with her brothers again, to be home. She has Lula and Trooper. Her gunner’s mount room just as she left it before…all of it. Before they lost Tech, before they lost her. The Marauder hasn’t changed in her months away, not that she expected it to. It feels different. Empty and sad and lost.
But she should be happy.
Hunter and Wrecker want her to be happy. Desperately. They want their Omega back. So Omega tries to resurrect her, to stretch the mindset of her old self over the growth and pain and loss and grief and guilt…but it only tears and rips apart, jagged edges, a throbbing reminder that nothing will ever be the same again. She thinks that her brothers know that. That she can’t be the same. That they aren’t the same. That time and experiences have worn them all down to shadows of who they were before.
But she wants to be happy.
So she pulls on a new version of herself. It fits loosely, but she’ll grow into it. Happiness will come again when she has grieved. Guilt will ebb when she makes reparations. Grief will melt into the memories of happier times as they are remembered. Loss will become gains, and pain will be soothed. Because that is one thing Omega hasn’t lost, hasn’t given up, hasn’t forgotten.
Hope.
@the-little-moment @just-here-with-my-thoughts, only 9 days left?? I can't believe April is almost over! I'm excited to finish strong with my writing buddies!!
✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨
Tag List: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @groguandthebadbatch @proteatook @merkitty49
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😍🥰😍🥰😍🥰 Aww this is adorable.
Tech, you can get me alone anytime you want
👀😏
how do I get you alone?
found a small drabble in my wips I won't address for a while, but is probably good enough to share as is.
tech x GN!reader
word count: ~380
Tech noticed you’ve been having a tough time with everything lately. He understood more than anyone how much things can pile up and become too much. He could tell you were reaching a breaking point.
At your desk you were staring at papers, your datapad, flipping your attention between both frantically. Tech spied a tell showing up on your face. You were moments away from crying. You were overwhelmed, a feeling he knows quite well. Like him, you were too stubborn to ask for help.
Tech approached you, standing on the other side of the desk across from you. He puts his hands on the surface of the tabletop and leans down. He doesn’t say anything, he just waits for you to connect with his eyes.
With a huff and a slump of your shoulders, you looked into those yellow-tinted goggles of his. No words needed to be shared because you both knew each other well enough to know that Tech was asking you what was wrong, and you were answering him with "everything."
He nodded and rounded the desk. He remained standing while resting back against the desk but never broke that line of sight he had with your own eyes. He crossed one ankle over the other. He took your hand. “What can I do?”
You looked at your desk. “Make it go away.”
Tech’s lips tugged up in a smirk. He faced the desk and swiped it clean with one grand stroke of his arm across the surface. He resumed his position leaning against the desk.
As much as it annoyed you that it was a mess to clean up shortly, you laughed. You pressed a kiss to his hand as he took it again. “I appreciate the sentiment. It’s not going to go away. I feel like I need to be alone for a little while.”
Again, Tech understood. He pulled on your hand to help you stand. His free hand gripped your waist. You felt his fingers dig in. He brought your hand in his up to his lips and he kissed your fingers, so softly, so tenderly. “How do I get you alone?”
You felt the heat show in your face and it caused Tech to get a devilish smirk that reached up to his eyes. He pulled you along to the bedroom.
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Do you write for other starwars characters or just clonewars Era? Would you write cal kestis is requested?
Yes! I can definitely write for Cal Kestis or any other star wars character (preferably not Andor though bc I haven't seen it). I actually have a Cal Kestis piece in my asks that I haven't started on yet, so go ahead and ask away!
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Never forget that Echo is an ARC trooper. Never forget that Echo is a badass. Never forget that Echo is a capable and experienced soldier and strategist. Never forget that Echo is impressive as fuck and an incredibly skilled man who can hold his own and never backs down from a fight.
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