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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 2 months

Text

Familiar Faces

Tech x Reader

Summary- Techs death was not a reality you were ready for, you relied so much on his love. After months of grief, you find he might not actually be dead.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR TBB SEASON 3 EP 7. I know nothing is confirmed about Tech, but watching this newest episode has got my brain working overtime with fic ideas!

Word Count- 2,708

The cart creaked across the rail line, sending shivers down your spine. There wasn't much keeping all of you up. Inches from falling thousands of feet to your death. The clouds didn't help either, you couldn't see anything.

You fired away, missing most of the time. Everything was happening so fast. A mission gone wrong. Your thoughts were stopped by Hunter's yelling.

"Three ships inbound!" He informs, even when you saw nothing in the sky- you trusted him. He knew better than any of you.

Shortly you heard them coming, the roar of the engines were loud. Soon followed by it's blaster's shaking the cart.

"Tech we need power!" Hunter commands. You work on pure adrenaline and fire at the ships closing in.

One of them is shot down, but not before it knocks out one of the support hooks. You feel the ground shift down, leaning.

Like a breath of fresh air, you hear Tech's voice. Him yelling back "Echo, Now!" was enough to calm you.

"We're online!" Echo retorts. You can't help your grin rising. Finally, things were looking up.

Though, you didn't need Hunter to tell you three more ships were headed your way.

"Tech, hurry." You called out.

You and Omega blasted at one of the new ships, effectively destroying its wing. It crashed down in a black smoke.

From this black smoke a fourth ship came. It was too quick- it shot at Tech, who was still running towards you. He gave a yelp as he fell off the support beam.

Your eyes widened as you gasped, body craning to try and see him. He had a hard landing, but was standing to his feet on the falling compartment of the cart.

It rumbled and shook, about to crash down.

You ran to the back of the cart, trying to get closer. "Tech!" You watched in horror as he tripped back with the rest of the detached pieces.

His grappling hook barely caught onto a stray metal piece. His body bounced back at the tension. "Don't move! I'll pull you up." You tried to reach his line, but it seemed impossible without everyone toppling over into the abyss.

"I-I can't reach!" You called over comms.

"I will climb up, do not risk falling over." You nodded at this, forgetting he couldn't see you. He was more worried for you than himself.

"Come on Tech, hurry!" Wrecker booms, coming over to see what the status was.

You could feel Tech roll his eyes, "I am climbing as fast as I can!"

His grunts break your heart, he panted as he tried to pull himself up. Storm troopers still fired all around you. One of the blast forcing Tech to fall even further.

"Tech!" This time it came from Omega. Your heart was beating too fast to think and speak. You were so worried.

"Why aren't we moving?" Hunter asks Echo. "The cart is being ripped from the back."

The very cart Tech was holding on to for dear life.

You frantically looked to Hunter. "Wrecker, get him on board!" He instructs.

"No, you're too big." You push past Wrecker to take a step on the falling cart.

It creaked loudly, almost giving out. "NO! Don't!" Tech yells up at you. Your eyes connect through the ripped metal. "Any shift in weight could send both of these carts over."

Incoming ships shoot at Techs line, he dropped down again.

"You must sever the connection hinge. Now!" Tech says.

Your face falls. "Are you crazy! No, you'll go over!" Tears welled up in your eyes. There had to be another way.

Another creak and shift. You were almost thrown over by the rocking.

Tech gave out a heavy sigh. This time he spoke gentle, saying your name. "There is no time..."

"Tech, please no!" You begged. He pulled out his blaster, not looking away from you. He was going to sever the connection himself.

"No!" You screamed, desperate. Your tears were falling faster than ever.

"Plan 99... I love you" He started. With a deep breath you yelled, "Don't you dare!"

"You can't! Please!" You sobbed, still trying to get closer. You heard Wrecker straining behind you, he was trying to hold the falling cart up.

"When have we ever followed orders?"

A shot rang out, he fell.

A piercing scream erupted. You almost didn't recognize that it was your own.

Your instincts kicked in and you tried to leap down, like you could still save him somehow. Wrecker was too fast and caught you, his arm throwing you back into the safe cart.

"No, NO let me go!" You tried to fight off Wrecker, but he was far too strong. He pinned you down easily.

You were hysterical, arms wailing at anyone who kept you from jumping after him. Later, when you were thinking straight- you'd thank them.

"He's gone, he's gone!" You sobbed out, devastated. Your screams filled the air, shocking a few storm troopers close by.

Echo wired the cart to start moving and get everybody to safety.

That was months ago. Just the thought could bring you to tears. You had lost everything you felt the reason to live for. He was your everything. His incompetence for social queues, his punctual speech, his stupidly intelligent brain. All of it was yours, and now it was all gone.

A deep depression fell over you, the only thing driving you was Hunter and Wrecker. They inspired you how hard they fought for Omega. It warmed your heart in your worst times.

It hurt immensely when you heard his name, but it got easier to get out of bed. It got easier to smile again.

Eventually, you reconnected with Omega and started defending Crosshair. Something that was typically Tech's job... You knew you had to take on more responsibilities and make up for the time you were down.

You constantly wondered if Tech would be proud of you.

You and the rest of The Batch found yourselves helping Rex, then... escaping with Rex. An enemy assassin leading the Empire to us.

The nine of you hurried down a secret passage way, to a leach vessel.

The soft clicks of the steps soothed you in some wicked way, even when everyone was running for their lives.

"Stop!" Crosshair yelled out. You turned to look at him, he took a few steps back to look out a carved hole in the stone. "They are coming..."

Just then, a shot rang out. Another assassin hung from the inner walls.

Crosshair ducked behind the wall, "Go, I'll handle it."

The rest of the squad moved down, but you stayed. "I'll help."

That was until you peaked around the hole, getting a glimpse of the man. A rush a deja vu consumed you. Your breath quickened. Why was this man so familiar?

You pushed it down, you had already let your feelings get the best of you too many times. It can't happen again. You fired at him, Crosshair backing you up.

Crosshair put an explosive at the end of his shotgun, catching the man off guard. It threw him off the wall. The two of you headed to the ship.

A blast to the ship sent all of you crashing down. You briefly heard Rex sending Echo a message about an extraction.

Commotion ensued, but it all ended with you falling and getting a bad headache. Your helmet did not do much to cushion the hit.

The rest of the team was briefly recovering from the crash as well, but you had to get a move on.

"We've got attack shuttles inbound." Hunter noted.

"This way." Rex lead.

You traveled on foot in the woods, trying to lose the storm troopers. Fighting them off was light work. One however, stood out from the rest.

Crosshair proved your suspicions when he frantically turned around, gun raised.

"What is it?" Hunter questioned. He got his answer when the assassin shot at us.

With our numbers down and the assassin having the upper hand, Crosshair suggested "I'll draw his fire out. Get to the rendezvous."

You heard Omegas small voice through comms, "I don't like that idea..."

"Too bad." He responds, already crouched behind a rock to fire.

Looking at Omegas worried gaze, "Go, I'll make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

Omega nods at you, then joins Hunter's side. Crosshair just grunts in acknowledgement.

In truth, Crosshair didn't need you. Though, you both knew that Omega needed the peace of you fighting with him. Two verses one had much better odds.

You heard Rex commanding the rest of the squad to move out. You and Crosshair pursued the assassin.

He gave out hand signals, letting you know he was above you. You nodded, sneaking around.

The assassin saw you easily, perfect. He was distracted just enough for Crosshair to get a hit on him, knocking his balance off.

Your face dropped when the assassin recovered in record time, it was like he hadn't even been hit. He now caught you by surprise when he shot at your hand, you lost your weapon. Damn. All you had left was a blade, which you now grasped.

To your dismay, Crosshair had already taunted the assassin away from you. No doubt on purpose.

It took you a minute to find them, Crosshair had followed him to a waterfall. One with rapids at the bottom. The booming of the current was distracting.

You crouched down, keeping a low profile. Crosshair and the assassin fought vigorously. When you saw an opportunity, you jumped.

You tried to get your blade around his neck or at least cut his suit. The assassin was stunned for a second, giving Crosshair time to recover.

The man disarmed you, overpowering you in strength. You fell back with a thud, your helmet flying off. You scrambled to stand, but was forced to stay down because of a stray blast. It just missed your head.

The assassin seemed to know every single move Crosshair made. Like, he had studied Crosshair's fighting technique multiple ways, There was only one man who you knew did that, and he was dead.

The stranger knocked Crosshair to his knees, a gun to his head.

The man now looked to you, ready to dispose of you as well.

You sat up, but did nothing to fight back- fear of him shooting Crosshair.

He however, stopped in his tracks. You just stared, confused. He looked to you, maybe in disbelief?

He, not moving his gaze, stunned Crosshair. You were in shock that he didn't kill him... The thud of Crosshairs body made you jump.

You slowly rose to your feet, you somehow didn't feel threatened by the man anymore.

Now that you stepped closer to him, he stepped back. He seemed to be fighting with himself... Throwing his blaster as far as he could away.

His hands moved to grip the sides of his head, in pain. He stumbled back, head barred down. With a loud 'thud' he fell on his rear.

He scratched at his helmet, trying to take it off. Something inside of him wouldn't let him. He was in turmoil with himself.

Did you feel pity for the man? You slightly shook your head, baffled at what you saw. He was so vulnerable now, you should have killed him for what he did to Crosshair. At least Stun him.

You couldn't find it in yourself. He looked so confused with himself, so conflicted. Your heart wrenched, but why?

Your own actions shocked you, stepping closer to him. You lowered yourself to your knees, inches away. You were skeptical but determined.

He stopped his frantic movements when your hands moved to his head. He let you do as you pleased, frozen in place.

You kept your eyes on him as you gently lifted his helmet. You only got it up enough to see the mans eyes, a deep brown. That and his face structure was enough to tell you who it was.

The face you spent hours drooling over, embarrassing stares caught at, nights laying with. The very face you saw fall thousands of feet down to a cloudy abyss.

You gasped loudly, scrambling back. No, NO. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him...

Your reaction seemed to have broken him out of his haze. His helmet fell back down, covering his face. He, almost instinctively, moved to you. You were too shocked to fight back. He swiftly grabbed your wrist, pulling you up.

The grip was tight, you winced. The man realized his mistake immediately and loosened the grip. if he wanted to kill you, why was he worried about your wrist?

When you were sitting back up, the man reclined on his knees. He slowly moved his hands up to the helmet again, this time with more control.

He raised it completely off. It was him.

Both hands moved to cover your gaping mouth. How? HOW?

"T-Tech?" You called out, voice cracking.

He squinted his eyes and had one hand holding the side of his head in pain.

"You must take Crosshair and run, now." He ended by saying you name desperately.

"W-what? No, I am not leaving you. Tech, what happened? How are you alive!" You leaned to him, wanting nothing more than to hold and kiss him.

He moved back, your touch like fire.

"You have to go. I do not know how much longer I can hold off the chip. I do not want to hurt you." He looked at the ground, ashamed.

"You won't. I know you won't..." You moved closer again, resting a hand over his. You slowly moved it off of his head, holding it. He breathed hard.

"Any better?" You ask. "Yes, I would suspect my will to keep you safe overrided the new chip the Empire has put in my head." You smiled, finally leaning forward to hold him.

The second your arms wrapped around him, you sobbed. It all felt like a dream- well, nightmare.

"I thought you were dead... Tech, oh my Tech." He hugged back, petting your hair. You both frantically proclaimed 'I love you's.' But, he soon pulled away.

"I will not put you at risk any longer." He moved to stand up,

"I just got you back, why are you leaving me?" You couldn't understand.

He stood up, saying your name in a whisper. "I thought I made it clear. My new inhibitor chip is stronger. I am assigned to kill you. I do not want to do such a thing, ever."

"Tech, just please come with me. Rex is with us, he can help remove this one. Just like the others..." You grabbed onto his arm, pleading. How did he expect you to walk away, leave him behind. Especially when you just figured out he was alive.

"I suppose that might work..." He rested a hand to his chin, thinking. More tears flowed from your eyes, he was exactly how he was before. Always calm, always thinking everything through with a steady heart beat.

You looked up at him. "Please, I need you. I-"

"I know. I need you too. I uh- I apologize for shooting you." He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

Your eyebrows furrowed, "You didn't mean to.." You leaned up to kiss him, but something switched in him.

His face twisted and turned, he stepped back. He was fighting himself again, now a hand reached for his blaster. He looked up, face cold and blank. He pointed the gun at your face.

"Tech, Tech, it's just me!" He didn't care, he had a mission to fulfill. The chip was regaining control.

Suddenly, his body quivered and shook. He fell to the ground. Crosshair stood behind.

"Please don't kill him!" You ran to him, making sure he was aware of the situation.

"I know, his chip... I'll carry him back. Rex can look at him." You were hopeful, he was coming home.

It would be a rocky start, but he was alive. He was alive and half-conscious. That was a problem for when you got back on the ship.

For just a second, watching Crosshair hoist Tech up, you relaxed. The pounding of the water on rocks soothed you.

He was alive...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I hated the ending, sorry ya'll had to go through that. I didn't know how to end it! I was so motivated with this plot, then kind of lost it. Expect a Crosshair fic this weekend!!!

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 2 months

Note

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

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clone-anon · 2 months

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Hey there! As silly as it sounds, the release of TBB season 3 has reopened some old wounds caused by season 2 and left me in a bit of an odd place emotionally. I was one of those that actually went through the five stages of grief after that finale and with the uncertainty of Tech's fate hanging in the air, well, all of that is starting to bubble to the surface again. Tech is one of my "comfort clones", plus he reminds me a lot of my husband, so I'm a bit attached to him emotionally. Anyway, I'm rambling. What I'm asking for is some warm, snuggly comfort Tech (with a dash of snuggly comfort Echo) to help ease the pain and let me know everything's gonna be okay. :')

This isn't silly at all, Anon. Everyone who loves Tech has had to deal with this as best they can and we're all waiting with bated breath to see what season 3 has in store. Hopefully this will offer a dash of comfort. I included platonic Echo cuddles and romantic Tech cuddles.

Word Count: 726

You woke from a dream with a shudder. Your eyes adjusted to the lack of light as quickly as you could. You were on the Marauder and it was the middle of the night on some mid-rim planet. Tech, Echo, and you were off on a supply run and decided to hunker down for the night before venturing into the nearest town in the morning. You looked around. Tech was lightly snoring in his bunk and you breathed a sigh of relief. He was there. After so many months without him, he was back. You longed to climb into bed with him, but knew it took so much effort for him to fall asleep that you didn't want to disturb him. Instead, you ventured into the cockpit to find Gonky and Echo passing the time watching the stars as Echo finished up a communication with Rex. Always something to do.

"Hey," Echo said as you walked toward the copilot's seat.

"Hey," you replied.

"Can't sleep again?"

You nodded and rubbed your face. Echo sighed and tried to smile. He got up and went to one of the storage spaces. There was a mattress stored in there. Now that Omega was bigger and you often joined them, it helped to have a mattress they could throw on the floor. Echo laid it out, threw a blanket over it and held out his hand.

"Come on," he said.

"Shouldn't you be keeping watch?"

"We're fine here. Security system is working and I haven't noticed anything in hours."

You laid down next to him and rested your head against his chest. Echo rested his cheek on the top of your head and hummed a little. You had both become accustom to holding each other during those difficult times when you both missed those you'd lost. He liked the company and felt warmer next to someone.

After some time, Echo spoke up. "You could wake him, you know."

"He needs his rest," you replied.

Just then, familiar footsteps approached your position laying in the middle of the ship.

"I have adequately rested," Tech said.

"Did we wake you?" you asked.

"Not at all. It's my watch," Tech answered.

"Not much to watch," Echo said. "Your new security system keeps an eye on everything."

"As it should," Tech replied with a satisfied smile.

Echo gave you a quick squeeze before he got up. He headed to his own space where it was a bit darker and easier to rest his eyes. You weren't about to be alone though. Tech peered through the windows, gave Gonky a friendly pat, and then asked to join you on the mattress. You smiled as he got comfortable next to you. Of course he was welcome. There wasn't any question. You'd practically clung to each other since his return. You studied the scars on his face and the way his gait had changed after his fall. You didn't want to think about it. You just wanted him close.

As if reading your mind, he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. He kissed your forehead and simply said, "I'm here."

You nodded as you buried your face in neck and felt him kissed the crown of your head. You fought back tears and he rubbed your back. You gave him a squeeze as he gently laid one ankle over yours, looking for more contact. You looked up at him to find misty eyes and a smile.

"Still can't believe you're back," you said.

"Believe it," he said. "How can I make it up to you?"

"Tech, you don't have to. I know you missed me too and went through so much trying to get back. Just don't go anywhere without me again."

"I promise," he said. "For now though, you need your rest. You had your watch and now it's my turn."

You leaned in and kissed him with all you had. He still took your breath away. You got comfortable cuddled up against him. You listened to his heartbeat and your breathing slowed. You fell asleep quickly in the comfort of his presence. Tech got out his data pad to pass the time and check for any alerts that danger was near the Marauder. He smiled as he felt you enter a deeper stage of sleep, his other hand gently caressing you.

#tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #echo x reader #tbb echo x reader #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch #tbb #reader insert #tech anon #echo anon

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photogirl894 · 26 days

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Hello, bestie!! I want to congratulate you on 1300 followers. You deserve every one of them for your wonderful personality, writing, and vibes. And I'm also incredibly happy and honored to be among those 1300, thank you for being my friend ❤️

Now, for the ask! I love all of your prompts and I'm going to go with something fluffy with - surprise surprise - Crosshair!! With a female reader, if you please, could you maybe write 27. "You look so handsome" from the fluff prompts and 32. A kiss on the wrist from the physical affection prompts?

Can't wait to see what you write, and congrats again!

Thank you so much, Moon, for not only your request and congratulations, but for also being my friend, as well 💜I treasure our friendship very much!

Oh wow, Crosshair! I'm so surprised 😜 I expected nothing less and I am more than delighted to do this for you! I think you're really gonna like this 😉😏

We're gonna live a bit in denial with this one (while we can...) and just say Tech is alive and safe with the Batch, along with, well, a few other things😅

**Spoiler alert for the newest TBB episode, season 3 episode 11**

"A Wish in the Stars"

27. "You look so handsome."

32. A kiss on the wrist

Pairing: Crosshair x fem reader

***

It had been a year since you and the Bad Batch had settled down for good on Pabu.

A year since you all had successfully thwarted the Empire's operations on Mount Tantiss and ensured that you would never be found by them again by faking your deaths on Tantiss. With the Empire thinking all of you were dead, they would never come looking for you again, which left you and the Clones to live your lives in peace.

You all had returned to Pabu and helped rebuild everything that the Empire had destroyed. Within months, things on the island began to return to normal and all of you felt like you were truly home.

Truly free.

With this newfound freedom, Crosshair did the one thing you had always dreamed he would do; something you thought would only ever remain a wish in the stars for the longest time:

He asked you to marry him.

Naturally, you said "yes"...or rather, you cried out the word with joy over a dozen times.

The following months of wedding planning were both stressful and joyous at the same time. Omega was ecstatic at the thought of seeing you in a lovely white gown. Wrecker was more excited about all the delicious food that would be at the reception. Tech and Echo took it upon themselves to essentially be your "wedding planners" to ensure everything got done and taken care of. Hunter acted as more emotional support for you through it all and you had also asked him to be the one to walk you down the aisle at your wedding, which he was more than honored to do for you. You just knew your wedding day was going to be more than perfect.

The day arrived and you had just finished putting on your gown: a lovely floor-length, white dress with lacey sleeves and shoulders that had silk flowers sewn into the skirts. You wore a flower crown in your curled hair that Omega and Lyanna had both so lovingly created for you. You looked at yourself in front of a mirror, taking in the image of yourself in that moment. Seeing yourself looking like a bride was almost too good to be true. You had dreamt of this day for forever and now, it was finally happening...you were finally going to marry Crosshair, the love of your life.

"Wow...!"

Just then, you heard the voice of your beloved behind you and you saw him appear in the reflection of the mirror. He was gazing at you with eyes wide with amazement and love and you couldn't help but smile.

You whipped around and playfully scolded him, "Don't you know it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding? You need to go!"

He grinned and strode towards you. "Haven't you learned by now that I'm not good at following orders?" he asked you.

You chuckled back, choosing to throw tradition out the window. "I suppose that's true."

Then you looked him over once, taking in the rare sight before you. Crosshair was in much more formal attire that you weren't used to seeing him in: a nice, dark green shirt with a cream-colored, button-up vest, dark pants and boots. You had a feeling Shep and probably Hunter had played a part in figuring out his wedding wear and you were more than pleased with what you saw.

"You look so handsome," you complimented him.

He got a slightly uncomfortable look, not liking the attention, but he still grinned shyly and said, "Thanks." Then his gaze softened once he looked back at you, taking in your radiance in the Pabu sunlight coming in through the window, and he remarked in awe, "And you...you look...I...I can't even find the words to describe how breathtaking you are."

"Thank you," you said with a huge smile as he gently pulled you to him by the waist. You placed a hand on his cheek and gazed up into his entrancing brown eyes. "With everything we went through, everything we fought against...I never thought this day would come."

"I know," he said, nuzzling your hand.

"I always thought us getting married and finally settling down somewhere would just be a wish in the stars, forever floating through time and space, never to be granted," you admitted.

Crosshair then reached up to caress your cheek. "Well...at least one star must have fallen then because that wish will come true today." Then he took your hand that was on his cheek and pressed his lips reverently to your wrist, letting them linger for a moment against your warm skin. His sweet, intimate gesture sent a pleasant shock down your arm and through your whole body. Then he turned his gaze back to you and asked with a tiny, teasing grin, "Are you sure you don't want to rethink this? You know I am severe and unyielding, as Tech says."

"You being severe and unyielding is what got us to this point to begin with," you told him. "You refused to give up. Not on fighting the Empire, on our squad, on yourself...and not on us." You raised your other hand to his other cheek and smiled lovingly at him. "Therefore, I will never stop fighting for the man who fought so hard for me. I'm not letting go of you for anything in this galaxy."

Having given that affirmation that you weren't rethinking anything about being with him, you kissed Crosshair sweetly and he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you as close to him as you could possibly get.

When you pulled away, he breathed out in a whisper, "I love you so much."

That brought a happy tear to your eye. Crosshair would say he loved you, but he seldom said it first. This day truly was a day for new beginnings.

"I love you, too," you said back.

"I don't know how or why you ever chose me...but I thank whatever entity brought me to you every day," he said. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me and I promise to make you happy for the rest of--"

Your finger over his lips silenced him as you told him, still smiling, "Save that for the altar, darling."

In reply, he said nothing and simply smiled back at you.

Then you gave him a light nudge. "Now, you'd better go. The ceremony will start soon and Hunter will be coming to make sure I'm ready. You need to leave before he catches you."

Crosshair snickered. "I'd like to see him try," he said, tightening his grip around your waist. Then he gave you a tender kiss on the forehead, released his hold on you and went to walk away. However, he stopped just short of the door and looked back at you once more with the most adoring smile you'd ever seen on him. Then he stated before he left, "I'll see you at the altar...my bride."

Photogirl894's Fluff/Romance prompts

Photogirl894's Physical Affection prompts

Photogirl894's 1,300 Followers celebration fics

#star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch crosshair #bad batch prompts #crosshair x reader #photogirl894 1300 followers

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kimbureh · 2 months

Text

Rescue = Family

The new episode of TBB (S03E04) further develops the theme of "rescue means family". Since season 1, Hunter is occupied with rescuing Omega cuz she's family to him. Echo rescues regs cuz they are family to him. Rescuing someone means accepting them into your family; not rescuing someone means rejecting them from your family. The latter thing is what happened to Crosshair (kinda like in a messy breakup, where Hunter takes the kid cuz Crosshair is a neglectful parent, lol).

Crosshair is the lone wolf, lonely sniper type. He doesn't have a family because he hasn't mastered the art of rescuing someone. The series has established the connection of "rescuing someone means they're family" numerous times, and Crosshair has never managed to rescue anybody. He arguably tried in the season 1 finale by offering the squad a place with the Empire, but while this might have been a good offer in Crosshair's mind, it was ultimately toxic and bound to fail. Crosshair tries again to save someone on Barton-4 where Mayday dies in his arms after a long struggle; Crosshair was ready to form a bond, but external circumstances (aka the Empire) prevented that. The Empire, of course, has a vested interest in isolating its soldiers from each other; the brotherly bonds between the clones are a liability and are therefore replaced by conscripted recruits who don't share a familial connection. There can't be a family under the regime of the Empire, that's why Crosshair's attempts of rescue have to fail as long as he's with them.

In season 3, Crosshair no longer is with the Empire, and *finally* his rescue attempts aren't toxic anymore, he just complains about them all the time, haha. Healing kinda feels uncomfortable and Crosshair is very vocal about that discomfort, but he *is* on a path of learning how to bond. Omega and Crosshair rescue each other during their escape. And then Crosshair saves the dog in episode 4, the very same episode in which Crosshair is called a Dad. He is finally crossing the threshold of being toxic and isolated and steps towards becoming an actual parent/family member.

That's the analysis part, speculation ahead.

I think The Harbinger (title of episode 8) refers to Tech who is now with the Empire. If that was the case, Crosshair gets a chance to rescue him. If Tech is with the Empire, he represents Crosshair's former self. Crosshair would not only be able to rescue his teammate and affirm his family bonds with him, but he also metaphorically gets to save himself. Imperial Tech needs saving, just as Crosshair did when he was with the Empire and suffering from this decision. It would be a chance for Hunter to make things right with Crosshair via Tech and not again leave behind a family member with the Empire, even if they act toxic (or incomprehensible).

I expect the family/squad only to grow from here on out. I think Echo isn't in season 3 so far for a very good reason; he'll show up to rescue Tech (cuz that'll be a group effort), and once Tech is back, Echo's role is to expand the family even further by connecting the Bad Batch family with the Reg family. Since Echo is both, a Bad Batcher *and* a reg, he is in the unique position to unify the two branches of the family. I think that would be a rewarding high note with which to end the series; the Batch and the regs overcoming their differences and reuniting as the family they have always been.

[all of my TBB meta here]

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lightwise · 2 months

Text

Be There - Parts 1 & 2

Note: As I like to do (aka my brain holds me hostage until it is satisfied), I had to fill in a couple of moments that we didn’t get in S3 E4 - A Different Approach. I am approaching Tech and Echo’s absence as each character is aware of it so far—so whether he is dead or simply gone, mentions of Tech are not meant to imply that he is physically present in these scenes.

Enjoy.

Read both parts together here on AO3.

SPOILERS for season 3 of TBB ahead.

Part 1: Our mission isn’t over yet.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Wrecker stared unblinking at the yellow transmission light as it lit up for the third time. Hunter had stepped away from the console for a brief minute to rest his eyes. This wasn’t standard procedure. When Echo or Rex or Phee needed to reach them, they usually used their wrist comms or the portable holo. The inbuilt console had been…Tech’s domain.

“Uh, Hunter…you might wanna see this.”

A gruff sigh came from the pilot’s seat. “See what, Wreck?”

The last beep finally entered Hunter’s consciousness as he tried to brush off the weariness that threatened to overtake him. So far they were only a third of the way around the sector found in the data from Setron. More time had been lost taking the cadets all the way out to Pabu too (not that he regretted the stop). His mind couldn’t shut off, wouldn’t stop thinking through the next place they could look every time a planet turned up empty, but he could feel his ligaments starting to fray at the edges in protest.

Wrecker would have pointed out that he had been falling apart at more than the edges for awhile now. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered until they brought her home. He just needed to keep it together until then.

“I…I don’t remember what the codes mean but…isn’t that…does this…”

Hunter rubbed his eyes wearily, trying to get them to focus enough to read the sharp white letters that had appeared on the dashboard. Two innocuous lines, in an old coding sequence that Tech had set up before…he blinked that thought away.

OM.P53.NMR.2SR. BT.

Plan 53 (all comms silent for a stealth rendezvous). Nearest moon of Ryloth. 2 standard rotations. Be there.

But it was the first letters in the sequence that caused his heart to stop in his chest.

“I shall make it so that the first two letters of each of our names signify who is sending the message. They should always be the first letters in the sequence.” A tilt of the head and a push of the goggles up his nose had accompanied Tech giving a very pointed look in Wrecker’s direction. “That should be easier to remember than full code names, I hope.”

OM. Omega. It couldn’t be. It had to be. Nobody outside of the Batch knew this frequency—or code.

“It’s HER.”

He gripped the edge of the console in a daze. How?? She had escaped? She had somehow found a way to contact them. She…she was alive.

“But…how do we know for sure?” Wrecker’s eyebrows pinched together in concern. “After all the luck we’ve been having…what if this is a trap, Hunter?”

The words Hunter had said before their failed mission to Eriadu haunted him now, thrown back in his face like a taunt. He knew Wrecker didn’t mean it that way, though.

“I don’t think it’s a trap. I really don’t think so. But either way…we have to try it.” He glanced at the chronometer on the dash and pulled up the coordinates to Ryloth. “Especially this location…only Omega would have picked here, where she met Hera for the first time. She knows it will be off the radar but easy to get to. We can just make it if we get going now.” He had barely swung the pilot’s seat back around before furiously punching in the coordinates.

The Marauder’s engines picked up from their lull as they launched forward into hyperspace. Wrecker slumped into the seat beside him, staring out the flickering blue around them for a long moment. He had picked up Lula from her perch on Omega’s blanket at some point, and was passing her tenderly back and forth in his hands.

“I really hope you’re right.”

They cautiously exchanged glances as the shock and adrenaline of the last few minutes wore off. For the first time in a very, very, long time, Hunter felt the faintest flicker of something he could call hope. But he didn’t dare let it burst into full flame. Not yet.

Wrecker suddenly chuckled and clapped his hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Ya know, we’re a mess. We really should clean up before we get there.” His voice lowered a bit as he added, “no reason making her worry any more than she probably already is at how rough we look.”

Hunter scowled and pinched his brow. His brother was right. The lack of sleep and hygiene had caught up with them at this point, and they smelled worse than they looked. Omega would be able to see the wear and tear on their armor eventually, but at least they could be presentable to welcome her home.

“Fine, I’ll go shower,” he huffed, giving Wrecker a strained grin that turned into a groan as he tore his limbs out of the seat.

The view in the mirror only confirmed his disheveled state, and he groaned again as he tugged the bandana off his forehead and slumped against the fresher wall.

Please, please let this be real. I don’t know if I can bear another false lead.

They had crossed the galaxy five times at this point. He would a hundred more if that’s what it took. They didn’t leave their own behind.

Most of the time.

His ears began ringing. The unbidden thought that had been slowly poking its way through his subconscious finally breached the surface. What if…what if Omega had been taken to the same facility as Crosshair. What if they had found each other? What if…she wasn’t alone?

Deke’s words had been painfully etching their way deeper and deeper into his heart since the boy had carelessly uttered them.

“At least you’re loyal.”

If only he knew. Once Hunter had claimed those words proudly. It was the ethos he had lived by. Still wanted to live by. But…he wasn’t sure he deserved that label anymore. Too many mistakes had been made. He had failed too many times.

Echo had told him once that their unbeatable streak on missions during the war wasn’t necessarily a good thing. And every time Hunter thought he was making the right decision, he ended up proving him right. He wasn’t prepared for the weight of failure. For the ways everything kept slipping through his clenched fists. For watching his brother point a rifle in his face and walk away. For not having the right words to bring him back. For all the ways he had to choose when there was no good choice to be had. For watching his entire world fall away. For picking shattered goggles up off the ground. For the dark and empty gunners mount that had been staring him in the face for five and a half months.

Silver hair and a toothpick between thin lips suddenly floated in front of his eyes, sneering at him. Every choice you’ve made has been wrong. We’re all lost because of you. And then it shifted, the silver hair morphing into a scarred head and terrified, wide eyes that glistened with tears. Begging, pleading. Why weren’t you weren’t loyal to me?

No, no, no, NO. Hunter dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying desperately to stop the vortex spinning out of control inside his head. A sob escaped his lips as he collapsed onto the floor. He could never repair any of this. He didn’t know how.

He sucked in a breath as he felt the faint pressure of a hand on his shoulder that couldn’t possibly be there. A clipped voice suddenly echoed through his mind. I have found that repairs, while daunting at first, simply take repeated effort and inclination in order to achieve them. It’s like a puzzle. The pieces are there, you just have to pay attention and take the time to put them back together. Steady hands. No Hunter, try moving it this way. See? I knew you could do it.

If only he was here. Hunter wiped the traces of tears from his eyes as his hitched breathing slowly evened out. Whatever—whoever was waiting for them on that moon—he would have to face them. Whether it was a waking dream or another nightmare. He had crossed the galaxy five times in as many months. But he still hadn’t been able to outrun the pain. Hadn’t been able to outrun himself.

It was time to try a different approach.

Maybe not everything had to be lost.

-----------

Part 2: You don’t know if they’re still alive.

“They’ll be there.”

She had cut him off adamantly. The full force of her hope (her naïveté, he had called it just a few hours prior), pushing firmly against his gentle attempt at reason.

Crosshair knew he wasn’t just trying to prepare Omega for the possibility that Hunter and Wrecker might not be waiting for them. For them? No, they would only be waiting for her. They had stopped waiting for him a long time ago.

No, his words were more an attempt at quelling his own twisted anxiety at the prospect of facing his brothers again. It had been…a year? More? Since he had stayed behind on that blasted platform. It felt like ten lifetimes ago now. So much had changed. He had changed. Or had he?

A staccato thud flung them out of hyperspace, the stolen freighter now drifting quietly past the two giant orange moons that guarded Omega’s choice of rendezvous.

Still standing behind the copilot chair, his trained eye spotted the tiny speck of light coming from the open ramp of the Marauder. So they were alive. Of course. The tiniest twitch spasmed in Crosshair’s chest at the sight.

That open door was for her, he reminded himself again. Not him.

The girl stood unmoving as they touched down. Her spine straight, shoulders pulling down and back, and he could see the faintest reflection in the viewport of tears welling up in her eyes.

The ramp began to lower and she suddenly came to life, arms and legs almost flailing in her haste to reach the ground. Though he could no longer see her face, as she paused at the last step Crosshair could tell that a weight had lifted from her shoulders. The weight of taking care of herself, taking care of him, getting them both to safety.

She had accomplished her mission.

He had to admit, he was impressed by her. Maybe he was starting to understand a little of how quickly Hunter’s loyalty had transferred to her, how she must have driven them all crazy at first with her bright-eyed optimism and inability to take no for an answer.

She really was the best of them.

He sighed as her words echoed in his mind—“I’m not giving up, Crosshair! I won’t let you either.” Her stubbornness was certainly the family trait, and perhaps surpassed his own.

Those words had somehow burrowed into his chest and wouldn’t leave. But they hadn’t shocked him. He expected her to say them to anyone. They fit perfectly within the love and loyalty she showed everyone around her.

What had shocked him were the ones she said later, after he had tried every tactic he could think of to get her focus off of him and onto her own safety. He had long since accepted what the rest of his accelerated lifespan might be—serving as a test tube and punching bag for the Empire he had once sought glory from. How fitting, really. It was his penance, for everything he had done. Everything he had failed to do.

Why should he have a chance to live when...he sighed again and pushed away the memories threatening to engulf him. Long brown hair and a beard blurred white with snow. Round, yellow-tinted lenses blinking pointedly in his direction. The remnants of a skull chalked onto the back wall of a bunk—just enough dust left to stain his fingers.

“None of us belong here.”

The Empire changed people. For the worse. But after all those months of isolation, all his attempts to drive her away, to keep his distance so she would stay safe—he never expected for those wide eyes to practically beam sunlight at him in that force-forsaken, grey haze of a prison. She had seen him, then. Truly seen him for who he was—and still believed in him. In all of them.

She had tried to give him the same outstretched hand many times before—during their desperate attempts to flee the sinking facilities of Kamino; on the sun-soaked platform after. In that makeshift holding cell after Kaller, where all of this had started.

He wasn’t sure what surprised him more—that she had offered it one more time, or that he was finally willing to try and accept it.

Batcher whined from her corner of the cockpit, tilting her head hesitantly at Crosshair as he remained fixated, unable to move from the viewport. His musings faded as he saw a shift in the light; Wrecker’s large form had suddenly darkened the doorway of the Marauder.

Crosshair dug his spine into the door frame behind him, waiting.

He didn’t have Hunter’s hearing, but he didn’t need it. He could imagine just how loud the shout of joy was that Wrecker let out as he ran to meet his little—their little sister. A faint smirk threatened to tilt his lips as the giant of a man lifted Omega high above his head and spun her around, wiping tears unashamedly from his eyes. Crosshair expected nothing less. He was sure there were matching tears streaming down Omega’s face as she clung desperately to her—their brother.

But where was…Crosshair’s eyes narrowed as they caught movement inside the Marauder. Was he truly prepared to see the etched face of his former leader, brother—friend—once again? A now familiar yet terrifyingly unwelcome spasm in his hand told him he was not.

Hunter emerged from the shadows, stopping before the overhead light could illuminate his face.

He must have said something, before practically leaping down the Marauder’s ramp as Omega catapulted herself forward again. Crosshair’s eyes softened as he watched his stoic, touch-averse brother cradle the girl in his arms, his eyes closed, his hands shifting over her back as though he would never let her go.

Could he blame him?

But the atmosphere shifted abruptly as Hunter pulled back, his warm smile and affectionate gaze at Omega turning into a wide-eyed, disbelieving gape as he lifted his eyes toward the freighter behind her. There was no way he could see him through the tint of the cockpit, but his other senses were more than adequate at that distance. Hunter had finally realized that Omega had not escaped alone.

Crosshair felt panic wash over him. His gaze shifted to the pilot’s controls. It would be so easy to take the wheel and disappear, leave them all behind once again. Omega was safe. That was all that mattered, right? He could ditch the ship and find work on some backwater planet, do his best to keep off the Empire’s radar.

Batcher slowly shook herself and stood up from where she had been napping the last few hours, her eyes never leaving his. His lips tightened into a thin line as they stared each other down.

He finally let out a disgruntled sigh, shaking his head and crouching down until he could rest his hand on the curve of her head.

“I know, I know.”

She growled a little and then licked his hand, pointedly ignoring the scowl he gave in return.

“I’m done running. Promise.”

He achingly stood back to his full height and turned toward the back of the ship. He could almost feel Hunter’s shocked gaze still on him. Whatever message Omega had sent them, they clearly hadn’t been expecting him to walk down that ramp after her. After all the wrong choices—how could this one possibly go any better?

The tremor took over his hand again. But he suddenly, faintly, felt the pressure of a familiar, slender hand on his shoulder. And another, firmer grip cradling his trembling fingers, easing the shattered nerves. A pulse he thought he would never hear again thrummed next to his own for the briefest of seconds.

He had nothing left to lose.

It was time to try living again.

Divider by the lovely @dystopicjumpsuit ✨

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars #crosshair #crosshair bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch fanfiction #fanfiction #tbb fanfic #tbb fanfiction #tbb season 3 #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #tbb season 3 spoilers #a different approach #some light ramblings #somelightramblings

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smolbean-17 · 3 months

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Additional Theories for Season 3

Hunter

Hunter will use a lightsaber

Omega and Hunter REAL HUG

Hunter finally discovers his purpose and resolves his arc

Hunter finally loses it and goes Joel Miller on everyone’s ass

Hunter will make riskier decisions since Omega isn’t around. He won’t be playing it safe. He might even make some morally questionable choices.

Hunter will have a hard time trusting Crosshair when he comes back to them.

Cad Bane and Hunter rematch (neither will lose/it will be a draw)

Fennec and Hunter banter

He will be the only main character to die (the more and more I hear about season 3 and the more I think about it, him being the only death besides Tech makes a lot of sense. They’ve been leading up to it a really long time)

He will tell Omega he loves her

He will hand off responsibility for Omega to Crosshair, showing that he finally trusts him again. Mutual forgiveness between them.

Omega will take his bandana/helmet

Tech

Tech will return in a way we don’t expect (if he returns at all)

Tech is not the mystery soldier

Tech’s goggles will have a tracker in them (put there by Hemlock. It will be how he finds Pabu)

The team will visibly struggle without him there

Lots of callbacks to Tech

Phee will be shown missing him

Crosshair

Crosshair will continue to struggle with decision making, Omega will serve as his conscience

He will struggle greatly with PTSD

He will reunite with his fam mid season

Crosshair and bros HUG

Crosshair will be sassy with his bros again

Crosshair will grow in his relationship with Omega

Sickest Crosshair sniping yet

He’ll compliment Omega on her shooting skills

Hunter will hand off caring for Omega to Crosshair (which will be such a great resolution to both of their arcs)

Wrecker

Wrecker will showcase more of his emotional intelligence

Wrecker will be desperate to not lose anymore of his family

He will blow up so many things

Wrecker more subdued/sad/thoughtful

Origins of Lula revealed

Either Lula is left with Omega or at Hunter’s grave

Echo

Echo will leave with Rex for good

He will get his handprint back (I’m thinking in the red blood of someone he loves this time…)

Echo finally gets a normal arm

Echo survives, fate unknown so he can be in other Star Wars content (Echo base etc)

Callback to Fives

Echo SURVIVES (he won’t die. They would be showing him in trailers much more if they were planning on killing him off)

Omega

Confirmation that she is Force Sensitive

Omega’s purpose revealed

Omega tied to Rey somehow (?)

Flashback of Omega meeting TBB as babies

Omega being strategic and getting herself and Cross out

She will have a bond with Emerie and change her for the better (like Omega always does. She just makes people better)

Ventress will take interest in her and vice versa

Omega will help resolve the tension between Crosshair and Hunter

She will survive to the end of the war. She will be in future Star Wars content.

Asajj Ventress

Asajj will force choke the boys (that’s a given)

She’ll probably flirt with them too

She will team up with the boys (after she tries to kill them first, and she will almost succeed because they honestly don’t stand a chance against her)

She will have a particular relationship/role to play with Omega

Quinlan Vos cameo (he will be with Asajj)

Others

Cody will return

Cody’s fate won’t be revealed in TBB so they can use him for other content

TBB get a dog

Flashbacks of TBB Clone Wars Era

One of the boys will actually cry actual tears

Someone will get a life-threatening injury

Galen Erso appearance

More Director Krennic

Pabu will be compromised and destroyed

Pabu will be revealed to be Scarif

Bad Batch family shot mirroring that scene on the Kamino landing platform in Season 1

Force sensitive clones

Darth Vader cameo (albeit brief)

Nemec and Fireball will die

Fennec teams up with and leaves on good terms with the boys

Fennec gives the boys a hard time

Snoke reveal

Death Star references galore

Final Clone War/Uprising

#the bad batch #star wars #clone wars #sw tbb #tbb #star wars tbb #bad batch #the bad batch theories

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multi-fan-dom-madness · 5 months

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Wrapped Up in You - Echo x reader

Clone Life Day Fic Exchange 2023

Summary: You invite the Batch to spend Life Day with you, and Echo is grateful for the opportunity. Prompt: "Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you."

Warnings: This work is SFW but my blog is 18+. fluff fluff fluff, TBB!Echo, pining, friends to lovers (implied), Crosshair being Crosshair, mentions of Fives.

Word Count: 3.1k

This fic is a Life Day gift for @ladysongmaster! I hope you enjoy! <3 Much thanks to @cloneficgiftexchange for hosting this event! Shout out to @stars-n-spice & @dystopicjumpsuit for the banners <3

Echo sighs, cradling the warm cup of spiced hot chocolate to his chest. It’s not often that the squad gets shore leave, let alone during the holiday season, so he’s determined to enjoy this particular leave as much as possible. Leaning against the wall in your small apartment, Echo silently surveys the scene before him, the ghost of a smile touching his features.

As soon as you’d found out your favorite squad would be on shore leave for Life Day, you made them promise to spend at least a few hours with you to celebrate. Echo’s heart swells at the memory of that holocall, the way you’d put your hands on your hips, head cocked to the side with that determined look in your eyes that could cow even Marshall Commander Cody. Of course the Batch had said yes, we’ll be there; of course Echo was the first to agree.

And he was glad for the chance to spend some time with you, even in a group setting. You’d decorated your entire apartment: scented pinecones hanging from festive ribbon, garland of popped corn, gently twinkling string lights arched over windows and doorways. In the corner of the room, dominating the scene, a fresh fir sits wrapped in warm yellow lights and golden bows, bedecked with shiny baubles of varying designs. A few presents sit wrapped neatly beneath the trees lowest boughs. Crooning softly over the radio, instrumental music lilts through the air. Cooking meat and baked goods fill his nostrils.

Tying it all together, though, is you. Dressed in an overly large knit sweater as red as the Batch’s armor, you’re a vision. Echo’s mouth runs dry when you glance across the room, your smile brightening when your gazes meet. Whatever Hunter’s saying to you seems to go in one ear and out the other as the two of you stare.

And then the moment shatters as the oven beeps. Breaking away from both Echo’s gaze and Hunter’s conversation, you hurry to the kitchen, disappearing from view.

“Stare any harder, and she just might catch fire, reg.” Crosshair’s voice is thick with sarcasm, the once-derogatory nickname now familiar and familial. He perches on the edge of the armchair nearby.

Echo rolls his eyes, taking a sip of hot chocolate to compose his thoughts. He’s relatively certain all his squad knows about his feelings, but Crosshair is the only one who’s broached the subject with him before.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Echo finally grumbles.

Crosshair scoffs. “You really are a di’kut, you know that?”

“Be that as it may.” With a pointed glare at his squadmate, Echo jabs his scomp in Crosshair’s direction. “I know that look, Crosshair. Don’t even think about it.”

Raising one thin eyebrow, Crosshair merely regards Echo with a faint smirk, gnawing on an ever-present toothpick. “Just saying, reg.”

“Just saying what?” you chime in.

Echo glances up, startled. Your eyes sparkle with curiosity as you approach, having caught the tail end of their conversation. Tucked under one of your arms are oven mitts, decorated with little boughs of holly, and in your other hand you cradle a tray of cookies, crescent moons of dough filled with fruit jam.

“How good you look in that sweater, dollface,” Crosshair drawls, smirk widening as Echo’s scomp whirs, his agitation bleeding into his neural interface.

Your teeth catch your bottom lip as you duck your head. “I’ve had it for ages. One of my favorites.”

“Well,” Cross says, standing to his full height, tugging the sleeves of his black turtleneck down, “it suits you. Isn’t that right, Ech’ika?”

Emotions clash and war within Echo. Irritation flares hot and angry at Crosshair’s goading—but it is immediately soothed by the balm of curiosity and wonder as you turn your gaze on Echo, eyes wide and...hopeful? What irks him even more is that Cross isn’t wrong: the sweater may be oversized, but it still drapes over your form in a flattering way, the knit fabric soft and cozy.

“Y-Yeah,” he says. Di’kut, he kicks himself mentally. “Uh, brings out your eyes.”

“Thanks,” you say. Then, as if suddenly remembering you’re carrying a platter of baked goods, you hold out the tray. “Oh, um, cookie? This is my grandmother’s recipe. I’ve got apricot, cherry, and blueberry ones.”

Crosshair plucks a blueberry crescent cookie from the tray, popping it in his mouth before slinking off, an entirely too smug look plastered to his face. Echo glances around for somewhere to set his mug; he’s shattered ceramic on his scomp arm before, the durasteel casing a smidge stronger than most mugs, and he doesn’t care to make too much of a fool of himself in front of you tonight.

“Oh, here,” you mumble. Balancing the cookie tray on one hand, you hold out your other for the mug.

With a small smile, Echo hands it over. He’s not sure he’s ever had apricot, but he knows he likes cherries, so he selects one of the morsels with dark red filling. He tries not to be self-conscious about the way you watch him expectantly, eyes trained on the movement of his hand as he brings the cookie to his mouth. The dough is surprisingly flaky, just sweet enough to really accentuate the deeper, woodier flavor of the cherry. Humming in delight, Echo smiles at you around his full mouth.

“You like it?” you ask, smiling in return.

He nods. Once his mouth is clear, he says, “Very good. Family recipe, you said?”

Ducking your head again, you nod. “Yeah, my gramma. She, uh, made these every year for Life Day. I still haven’t quite mastered her chocolate chip recipe yet, though.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it,” he says. “And I’m always happy to try out the experiments.”

“Is that right?” you ask.

A small quirk of your lips draws his eyes down to them for a fleeting heartbeat. He quickly looks away, catching sight of Tech building an accurate-to-scale gingerbread model of the Jedi Temple and Wrecker painting a new decal on his armor. Swallowing thickly, Echo takes a steadying breath. Maker, he went through ARC training; he can hold a conversation with his crush. Right?

“If you want me to, that is,” he says quickly.

Your gentle laugh stirs his heart, affection and cuteness aggression pulsing in him. “In that case,” you say, “I’ll be sure to hang on to some whenever you’re on leave.”

“Good,” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, right, thank you. I can take that back now.”

With a smile you hand back his mug, the ceramic warm from more than just the liquid contents now. Echo forces himself to take several deep breaths, the comforting scents of cinnamon, fruit, and something else, something...sweeter, filling him and easing his embarrassment.

“Dinner’ll be done soon,” you say as you scoot past the armchair towards the others.

After dinner, Echo helps you clean up, though you insist on doing it all yourself. Not that you put up much resistance, not with how Wrecker praises your excellent cooking skills and even Tech is admiring the different flavor combinations, cataloging the recipes in his datapad. Hunter gives a knowing look as Echo scoops up what dishes he can; Echo studiously ignores his sergeant.

“You can put those on the counter there,” you say as you point to an empty space next to you. “Thank the Maker for dishwashers, because if there’s one thing I loathe about cooking, it’s the dishes.”

“And yet you wanted to do this on your own,” Echo teases. His belly is full, fuller than it’s been in a long time, and he feels warm. Fuzzy. Sated. Well, for the most part.

“Force of habit,” you muse.

He lingers in the kitchen, trying to fool himself into believing it’s so he can be nearby to help more, but in reality, he doesn’t want to leave your presence yet. Watching you bustle around the small kitchen, humming to yourself, entranced by the way the red sweater bunches at your elbows, Echo sighs. The war has been so far from his mind tonight, a fact he’s grateful for; but with the night’s activities beginning to wind down, his thoughts return to the incessant rhythm of hyperspace, fight droids, restock, hyperspace, fight droids...

“Echo?” Your soft voice startles him out of his reverie.

“Sorry, what?”

You gesture with wide arms at the now (mostly) clean kitchen. “We can go back to the others now.”

“Oh, right.” He follows you out of the kitchen, back to the living room. Wrecker has Crosshair in a headlock, while Hunter looks on in silent amusement. Tech still sits at the dining table, typing away on his ’pad.

When Hunter notices you return, he sits up straighter, clearing his throat. “Wrecker. Drop him.”

“Aw, alright.” Releasing Crosshair, Wrecker shoves him to the edge of the couch, then beams up at you. “This has been a great Life Day, thank you so much.”

“You’re most welcome,” you say with a warm smile. “I couldn’t not spoil my boys on a holiday like this.”

Something stirs in Echo’s chest at the way you refer to them as your boys. Kriff, would you be willing to have him be yours, truly yours?

“Speaking of spoiling!” You clap your hands together. “I have some gifts for you all.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Hunter says.

“I wanted to,” you say simply.

As you rifle through the wrapped presents beneath the decorated tree, Echo ushers Tech over to the couch, ignoring the man’s protests about needing to finish his notes. Gently pushing Tech down into the empty cushion between Wrecker and Crosshair, Echo remains standing near the arm of the couch.

You pass out small boxes to each of them. “It’s not much, but...”

Echo almost regrets that he has to rip through the paper to get to the gift inside, because you clearly took your time wrapping these, the folds crisp and precise, the black and red plaid design seeming to repeat seamlessly to infinity with how neatly you’d cut it. He savors the feel of the paper in his hand for a moment, and, out of curiosity, flips over the gift tag on top.

His heart skips a beat. In your handwriting, the tag simply reads: “To Echo. From, your favorite nat-born ♥️”. A quick glance over his brothers’ shoulders reveals none of theirs have a heart drawn next to your signature.

Carefully avoiding your gaze, he finally tears the paper off, then slips the lid off the box. Inside, nestled amongst tissue paper, rests a small charm: a domino. More than that, he realizes: five dark impressions mark the charm. Echo’s breath catches.

“It’s...” He can’t find the words, or even the thoughts, to express the overwhelming rush of emotions crashing through him. Melancholy, affection, reminiscence, appreciation: it all blends together. When he looks up and meets your gaze, he finds your brow pinched in worry.

“Do you like it?” you ask.

He can only nod.

“Oh! A li’l bomb!” Wrecker’s laugh booms through your small apartment. “This one’s goin’ on my blaster.”

“Great idea, Wreck,” Hunter says, holding up a tiny skull charm, a genuine smile on his face. “Might attach this to my knife.”

Tech has already secured his charm—a tiny datapad—to his actual datapad. “This is remarkably thoughtful. Thank you.”

“I made them myself,” you admit.

Even Crosshair’s eyebrows shoot up at that, and Echo watches as the prickly sniper carefully lifts the small bullseye charm to eye level.

“Good work,” Crosshair says.

Echo sighs. It’s as close to a ‘thank you’ as Crosshair can manage without combusting, he supposes.

“What’s yours, Echo?” Hunter asks.

“It’s a, uh, domino,” he says. He leaves it in the box; this is his gift, and he doesn’t want to share it just yet. “For my twin.”

Hunter’s eyes soften in understanding before he looks back to you. “You really outdid yourself, meshl’a. I’m just sorry we didn’t bring anything for you.”

You hum, finally looking away from Echo. “Spending time with you has been a gift enough.”

He silently excuses himself to the ’fresher, head still swimming with emotions. Ensuring the door locks, he flips the light on, chuckling to himself at the Life Day tree soap dispenser you’ve invested in for the small space. Splashing some water onto his face, the cold shocks his brain into resetting. Emotions subsiding, Echo pats his face dry, then, meeting his reflection’s gaze, gives himself a silent nod of encouragement.

The apartment is strangely quiet when he emerges. Peering around the corner into the living room, Echo is surprised to find it empty save for you. You’re curled up on the couch, cradling a mug between both hands, gazing at the tree.

“Where’d the others go?” he asks.

Your gaze flits to him without startling, a smile touching your features. “Back to the barracks.”

“Without me,” he says, voice monotone.

Humming noncommittally, you shrug with one shoulder. “Do you need to go, too?”

“I...” He hesitates. Technically, being on leave, he doesn’t have to report in for another two standard rotations. He doesn’t want to intrude on your space any longer than he already has, but stars, you look so beautiful like this, calm, relaxed, comfortable. He can’t resist the desire to stay. “No.”

“Good, because I have one more thing I want to give you,” you say. Setting your mug on the coffee table, you step around it with practiced ease, your gaze never leaving his. Echo can’t help the way his lips part in surprise as you wrap your arms around him. Your body heat seeps through the thin material of his shirt to envelope him like a blanket. For a moment, he stiffens, and you almost pull away.

But his brain catches up with his body before you can. Arm sliding around your shoulders, he tugs you firmly against himself. You’re soft against his body, not to mention the sweater, and he sighs, eyes sliding shut. He buries his face into the crook of your neck. Inhaling your scent, he finally identifies what he’s been smelling whenever you’re near: spiced vanilla. Heady and warm, the scent fills his entire being, carrying him up into the stratosphere, floating on clouds.

“Where’d this come from?” he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin.

“Maybe this is my selfish gift to myself,” you say with a light chuckle. “Realized I—we—haven’t hugged despite being friends for so long. And I suddenly couldn’t go another day without doing this.”

Heart hammering in his ribcage, Echo gently pulls back to meet your gaze. Biting your lower lip, your eyelids flutter as you peer up at him. Stars, he could count your eyelashes from this proximity, get lost in the texture of your irises, marooned in the harbor of your sweet scent. When his eyes drop to your lips, a glint of gold catches his attention. Further down, around your throat on a delicate golden chain, a second domino tile rests just below the dip of your collarbone, resting on the scoop of the sweater’s neckline. A double blank domino.

“I hope it’s okay,” you breathe.

“Beautiful,” Echo murmurs. “Just like you.”

You capture his lips in a soft, tentative kiss. Fingers trembling where he brushes them over your cheekbone, Echo meets your desire, your passion, with equal fervor. His heart plummets and soars simultaneously, every nerve alight.

In the morning, after stretching out his muscles and eating a simple but delicious breakfast, he drops a kiss to the crown of your head. You recline on the armchair, holonovel in one hand, looking so at peace that he wishes he could stay. But Tech had comm’d him at first light, requesting his assistance with the ship, so he had to get back.

“Will you come back before you ship out again?” you ask, standing to follow him to the door.

He gives you a shy smile. “Only if you come see us off.”

“Am I even allowed on base?” you ask, surprise in your voice.

“Probably not,” he shrugs. “But we don’t exactly follow rules. I think an exception can be made this one time.”

His stomach thrills with butterflies at the soft, pleasant sound of your laugh. Pressing his lips to yours once more, he reaches blindly for the coat rack he knows resides by the front door, where he stashed his jacket last night after arriving.

His fingers close around empty air.

With a frown, he pulls back, and sure enough, the coat rack is completely empty. Eyes narrowing in suspicion, he takes a deep, steadying breath and counts to five before turning back to you. Confusion paints your expression.

“Didn’t you—”

“Yes.” He grinds his teeth. “Crosshair.”

One hand pressing to your mouth, you stifle a smile but can’t keep it from scrunching your eyes. “It’s too cold for you to walk back without a jacket.”

A thought occurs to him, and the words leave his mouth before he even has time to process them. “Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater?”

The look of surprise that overtakes your features is adorable, which makes the burning embarrassment that settles in his stomach worthwhile. All he can do is watch as you rush back to your bedroom, and return a moment later carrying the thick, oversized sweater you wore last night. Eyes sparkling, you silently help Echo into the comfortable garment, making sure his scomp doesn’t pierce through the woven fabric.

Looking down at himself, Echo finds that he quite likes the way that the sweater, so large and cozy-looking on you, fits him so perfectly. And, as he inhales to calm himself down fully, he’s greeted by the wonderful scent you wore last night.

He hums. “It smells like you.”

You duck your head, shuffling your feet, an abashed grin on your face. “Something to remember me by, then.”

“Like I could forget you.”

“You can’t say things like that when you have to leave,” you say with a teasing smile. Resting one hand on his chest, you lean up and kiss him sweetly. “Go, before I change my mind and keep you here.”

Echo hums. “Oh no, what a threat.”

“Go.” You gently push on him. “I expect that sweater back before you leave.”

“Of course, cyar’ika.” He opens the door, giving you one last fond look. “See you soon.”

And if, when Echo returns to the Marauder, he “accidentally” misplaces Crosshair’s pack of toothpicks, well, that’s his own business.

#tbb echo x reader #echo x reader #echo x f!reader #cloneficgiftexchange #the bad batch x reader #wrapped up in you #tbb x reader #rhiwrites

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im-no-jedi · 7 months

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I have Crosshair on the brain today for literally no reason and was really struck thinking about that moment with Wrecker and Tech in Kamino Lost. mainly how, yet again, Tech perfectly sums up what it's like being someone with a mental disability.

Wrecker breaks character a bit and gets angry at Crosshair for being such an ass, and especially for not putting an effort into leaving the Empire once his chip was removed. an understandable and valid reaction.

Crosshair doesn't have time to respond before Tech steps in though.

Tech straight up tells Wrecker to let it go. he doesn't need Crosshair to say anything because he already knows what Crosshair might say. despite not agreeing with him (as he later stated), Tech understands why Crosshair is behaving the way that he is. this indicates that Crosshair has behaved similarly in the past and therefore is no surprise to someone like Tech, who has the same problem. and he tries to explain that to Wrecker.

Tech outright states two of Crosshair's major character traits. two traits that can be seen both as positive and negative. neurodiverse people often have traits like this that manifest outside of their control, causing them to behave in ways that come across unnatural. it often takes an outside source, like Tech is doing here, for the person to even realize that those behaviors can be a bad thing. Tech even confirms the fact that it's simply a part of who Crosshair is.

but he doesn't stop there. because this goes beyond simple character traits, which can often be changed or altered in some way.

Tech starts by telling Wrecker that he can't change how Crosshair is. this is honestly good advice in general, but it especially applies to mental disability. no amount of work or effort can fully change how a neurodivergent person behaves. it's literally wired into their brain. sure, things like therapy and medication can help. but like a stubborn stain or a deep scar, those traits will never fully go away.

and Tech confirms this with one final statement.

Crosshair himself can't even do anything about it. and this to me is the real attribute of mental disability. it's simply something that's out of everyone's hands. it's also interesting to note Crosshair's expression here. he seems genuinely intrigued by Tech's statement, like he's just heard something he wasn't expecting to hear. Crosshair ends up asking why Tech "stood up" for him, but I think it goes beyond that. I think Crosshair hadn't considered that fact that things were out of his control. which we end up seeing in season two with his eventual strained relationship with the Empire.

now, this isn't me saying that we should excuse neurodivergent people for their behaviors. everyone, regardless of circumstance, should take responsibility for their own actions. and it's moments like this that are actually helpful in understanding how to deal with mental issues. I say this as a mentally disabled person myself. having that outside source to point out those behaviors, regardless of whether or not they were intentional, still have consequences. clearly, the consequence for TBB was the separation of Crosshair from the rest of the squad. he made that choice, but it was due to natural traits that were out of his control (among other things). hopefully he'll eventually realize this, but that remains to be seen.

it's no secret that I personally headcanon the entire Bad Batch as being neurodiverse. Tech may be the most obvious example, but the signs are there for the others as well. and this moment just further validates it for me. at the very least, it's an excellent comparison to mental disability, whether intentional or not, just like Tech's line in The Crossing. and I'll be forever grateful for a show like this giving us that representation 💙

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #sorry if this isn't very coherent lkdfjgkfdlsd #I needed to get my thoughts down before I forgot them #anyway you can pry neurodivergent TBB from my dead hands thanks #those boys ain't right in the head (affectionately LOL)#Mr Snarky Sniper #Muscles™#Goggles™#star warz

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