#tech bad batch fic

[court-jesterr]

Lovestruck

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Requested by: @baddest-batchers Warnings: Massive fluff, I think I actually cried writing this?, I've not been handling the season finale well because I miss Tech a considerable amount, pining for reader from Tech's perspective, a lot of adorable emotions from our usually pragmatic boy Word Count: 2K Summary: While fixing the Marauder with you, Tech reflects on his feelings and he's completely enamored by you. A/N: I'm not handling Tech's death well. Whether it's his death or his just being CX-2, I don't really care, I miss him so desperately and this fic healed so many parts of my heart even though I actually wept while writing. I love that you requested this, friend! I hope it's exactly what you were looking for (or at least close!) and I absolutely agree, this was indeed a Tech prompt. All of these requests have been so wonderful and I cannot express how much it means that people like my writing enough to send in requests! Thanks guys!

Requests are open if you have anything you'd like to send in!

__________________________________________

It was an ordinary affair for you and Tech to work on the repairs for the Marauder simultaneously. There were consistent restorations that needed to be made and things to be updated, so having another experienced individual helped jog said matters along. Though the clone was hesitant at first, after months of rapport building, he was grateful.

Not only was he finding himself appreciative for the extra set of hands, but Tech discovered that he was quite enjoying your company. You were clever, agreeable, and understanding, along with that you seemed to always find his endless wealth of knowledge pleasant. The accurate way you managed the repairs of his ship, first by managing his hesitancy well and then demonstrating consideration for his methods before ever handling something he cared so much about, really surprised him. Your approach to his usually off-putting demeanor was a welcomed change in his life and the way you subtly encouraged him appeared to warm his heart in a way he hadn't previously encountered.

He'd found that his eyes lingered on you from afar longer than he realized, only noticing that he'd been staring when you'd look over and smile at him sweetly. The light in your eyes, whenever you'd smile at him, twinkled so effortlessly, almost as if there had been stars placed directly behind them solely to enchant him.

It was as if you were another creature entirely, one he'd never analyzed, one he knew nothing about- because everything you did fascinated him. All the ways in which you carried yourself, laughed with his brothers, tended to Omega, your wit, the charm you retained...it all was remarkable to him. He began to notice himself craving your attention. Tech dreamed of you laughing for him, smiling at him, every moment he was awake you invaded his thoughts.

So to have you crouched down beneath the hull of the Marauder, handing him parts and tools for repairs made him impossibly delighted. This was a life he could get used to, for a long time. The ability to bond with you- and only you- in this way for the rest of his short life, he would fight for it, no matter the threat. If this was what life could be for him after he and his brothers no longer needed to fight, he would be far and beyond content. He'd feel whole.

"The spanner now, please," Tech's smooth tone echoed back to him from off the metal hull.

Taking a moment to grab the tool, you placed it squarely in his hand, "Of course." Your voice was sweet as ever to his ears, the sensation of your fingers grazing his gloved palm sending tides of bliss to his heart. How he desired to remove his gloves to truly discern how your hand might feel in his. Odd thought, he knew, though nevertheless one he often had run through his mind. Other equivalent ones situated themselves among his standard reflections; such as how your cheeks might feel cradled in his palm, or how your eyes might sparkle even more at his displays of affection toward you.

These introspective ideas were not ones he had been programmed with, he understood that very well, but then again wasn't that the whole point of him and his brothers? They weren't droids. Even with protocol and planned executions, wasn't the beautiful part of having your own identity the potential for...emotion? Sentiments?

Love?

The brilliant clone pondered these notions for many hours during hyperspace travels, staring endlessly into the streaking atmosphere while everyone else lay in their bunks asleep. Upon his further analysis and pensive state, he conceded that he did, indeed, love you. Even though he expected it to never be possible, for him anyhow, it clearly was. And there it was, staring up at him with stunning eyes and an adorable smile- all wrapped up in one woman who waited for further instruction to aid his work.

"Whatcha smiling at, silly?" A giggle brought him out of his reverie and he cleared his throat, handing the spanner back to you while muttering a quick 'my apologies'. "It's no big deal, you know I don't mind," another soft chuckle at his sudden behavior change. "Just curious what has you in such a good mood lately. You never smile this much- not that I'm complaining, of course. You look happy and I like that, it suits you." The smile he watched spread across your lips brightened your eyes so preciously that Tech felt as if his heart were going to lock up. You were absolutely breathtaking in the setting sunlight, the warm glow radiating your beauty.

It wasn't too long after your comment that he acknowledged he'd been staring once again. Tech blinked a few times, regaining his composure- sure to remember the planet's rotation cycle so he could bring you out into the setting sun one more time before leaving so he could truly memorize the way you looked in such a spectacular site. "I suppose it would be an alarming circumstance to see my sudden change in attitude if you are accustomed to my rather pragmatic and steadfast manner." He spoke slowly, trying to gauge his words carefully, looking back up at the repairs he was currently working on.

To say he was usually practical was an understatement and even he knew that, but he continued nevertheless- "Screwdriver, please."

A quick hum in reply from you and the tool was now in his hand, his heart buzzing at your lingering touch, making certain he had hold of the screwdriver before pulling away. "Though," Tech found himself speaking before he realized, hesitating after the word left his mouth.

Should he continue? Would you be uneasy at any admission of his affection, or even just simple favor, toward you?

He found himself suddenly apprehensive at the possibility that he could ruin the favorable conditions he'd found for himself with you. But with your reassuring voice, you spoke his worrying thoughts away, "though, what? Got too many thoughts running around that extraordinary mind of yours to just pick one?" The pleasantness in your prodding had a warm smile of his own spreading across his lips now while he worked against a stubborn bolt.

"Only a few at this very moment, so it would appear, mesh'la." Tech's reply was soft, soft enough that he thought only he'd heard himself until you stood beside him now. He glanced to see your head tilted with ever lovely, inquisitive eyes prompting him to continue his outspoken thought. Realigning his eyes to the bolt, Tech licked his lips anxiously, "Ah, I must have spoken aloud without realizing." He clarified softly, a burning sensation rising to his cheeks.

"Well now you gotta continue," you teased with a smile, "It's not every day that your genius mind only has a few thoughts in it to speak of."

Tech knew he was skating near a precarious edge, but the more you gazed at him expectantly, the less he cared and only desired for you to continue your total obliteration of his typical sensible behaviors. Taking a deep breath, the enhanced clone steadied himself before expressing, "At present, I have found that my foremost thoughts are exclusively about you. During the maturing of our relationship these last few months, it would seem that less and less of my thoughts are as constructive as they had been prior to our closeness, as troubling as that may sound." At your silence, Tech chanced lowering his arms to stand before you unimpeded by work, attention entirely yours.

The rise of your brows and the slight part in your lips made his heart thud painfully against his chest. Though, he noticed the sparkle in your eyes hadn't dissipated, perhaps he wasn't ruining anything as he thought he had been. "I am mindful that it may come across as peculiar, or eccentric, for me to have said that," Tech began cautiously, calculating your evolving expression. "Nevertheless, it is the truth. I...find you to be the most compelling woman that I have personally had the fortune of knowing. You are quite literally the only part of my life that I find myself frequently enchanted by." As he spoke, Tech found it easier to alleviate himself of the mountain of praises he'd been repeatedly considering when in your presence. He discovered he could continue voicing your worth, just as he could gaze at your beautiful face for an indefinable amount of time if only you'd allow him.

In the face of your silence, Tech cleared his throat once again to calm himself of his growing concern. "Though I'm aware of my capacity to express thoughts without stopping, I must say that your added input on this matter would prevent the inclination of my elevating heart rate."

"Tech..." The way his name left your lips did the contrary of what he had just requested, scrambling his heart rate instead. Tenderness touched the curve of your lips as you stepped forward close to him, directly into the space he usually reserved for only himself until he saw how much more exquisite you were when he had the opportunity to look down at you. This close he could see every mark, every small scar, the way the color of your eyes shifted as they glanced back and forth around his face.

"Stars," he breathed, "you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, mesh'la..." Tech muttered to himself in wonderment. As if no barrier had ever existed between you, Tech reached out to caress your face, marveling at how you reacted by pressing your cheek further into his touch. "If you were to provide me the honor of showing you my devotion, I would be certain to surpass any expectations you may put forth." Spellbound by the intimacy he'd found himself in with you, Tech longed for more. He yearned to feel the softness of your cheek on his skin, not through his filthy gloves. The way you deserved to be admired was wholly and profoundly, without any impediments. As his eyes danced between yours and the way your smile began to fade, Tech brushed his thumb along your cheek, cursing his GAR regulation blacks. You'd hardly said a word other than the sweet whisper of his name before you approached him, and even if this instance was all he'd ever receive from you, he'd relive the memory a hundred times over. Though he worried he'd said too much again.

Or maybe you were as entranced as he was, presently. "My dear, I don't mean to ruin this moment, however, I-" and before he could finish speaking you'd surged upward toward him, pressing your lips against his.

Astonishment rushed through the normally sharp clone as he felt the weight of your body pressed against his chest plate. After only a moment, though, Tech reacted- refusing to squander his opportunity to kiss you as he had dreamt many times over.

Wrapping his arms around your smaller figure, one hand came to rest between your shoulders and the other cradled your head affectionately, holding you as close as he could possibly have you. The plush of your lips brushed so flawlessly against his as he admired the softness they possessed. Tech knew upon impact that he would never tire of this, of the ability to hold you as he was, nor his newfound gift to kiss you.

You pulled away all too soon for his liking, the sigh escaping his lips sounding as pathetic to him as he was sure it sounded to you. Your smile was even more gorgeous than he'd seen it yet, though he was sure it was due to the recent discovery of just how incredible your smile tasted against his lips. Tech debated whether he should move at all for fear of you slipping away even sooner, but relented to adjust his goggles, matching your smile. "I believe that is a sufficient response to my yet posed question."

With yet another unpredictable act, you cuddled closer into his space, folding your arms in between your chest and his, and tucked your face into his neck. "I'll be happy to answer any others you may have with the same reply, whenever you need, handsome." You replied with a soft laugh.

Encompassing you once again within his embrace, Tech felt his cheeks warming, noting how the sun had disappeared beneath the horizon and he knew couldn't blame that for his reddened face. His breathy chuckle rumbled against his chest plate, "I shall keep that at the forefront of my thoughts."

[crosshairlovebot]

building feelings / tech x gn!reader

pairing: tech x gn!reader (no y/n)

description: tech teaches you how to fix something on the marauder, and you've always admired him and his intellect.

word count: 1,819

warnings: none. tech is a sweetheart.

two fics in several days?!?! what?!? this is ANOTHER request from another lovely twitter mutual who asked for tech teaching the reader how to fix something on the marauder! i have never written for tech before but i had?? so much fun?? i loved writing his dialogue so much. i loved writing HIM. i hope you enjoy it!

disclaimer: i don't know anything about mechanics, let alone mechanics in the star wars universe. but i tried my best!

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated.

Your feet echoed as you came down the Marauder’s gangplank. Currently situated in a Tatooine landing bay, Clone Force 99 had made a quick stop between missions for repairs after being damaged in a firefight as they left nearby Christophsis. While the other members of the squad had been ordered by Hunter to gather and replenish their supplies from whatever vendors they could find, you and Tech had been ordered to stay with the ship. You, as their official GAR liaison and medic, and unofficial cheerleader, took stock of medical supplies and caught up on filling reports as Tech tinkered with the hull.

But having finished all your tasks, and the boys still weren’t back yet, you ventured out of the stuffy and slightly odorous Marauder, and out into the Tatooine sun that bathed the landing bay.

You heard the spark of a welding tool and the clattering of rummaging through the toolbox before you saw him. Rounding the corner, you found Tech with his back to you as he faced the open belly of the Marauder. His tall lean frame reached up to tighten a valve, and you watched his body strain with the movement, and you imagined his face was screwed up, an intense furrow on his brow and his jaw clenched. You felt your face heat up.

You would be lying if your heart didn’t flutter a little around Tech. There was something so endearing about his eagerness to share his knowledge, and his conviction in whatever he did. He was kind, even if he wasn’t actively trying to be. He excelled at anything he did, and most of all, he was a good brother. He cared so much about them, but in ways you had to look for. Modifying the ship so it performed the best it could, ensuring their safety when flying. Volunteering for the first watch and staying up extra late working on a project so they could get extra sleep. Researching anything they came across, so everyone was informed and no one got hurt. And more recently, enhancing Echo’s cybernetics so they were comfortable for him, and caused less strain and increased efficiency for his cerebral interface.

You knew that to Tech, these things were just things he did. But once you noticed, it wasn’t hard to see the care and love behind them.  

“Hey, Tech,” you called out to him as you approached.

Tech turned around and met your gaze. He greeted you with your name.

“How’s it going?” you asked.

“Quite well. Though more systems were damaged than the initial diagnostic detected, everything is fixable. I have even increased the efficiency of the power flux stabilisers, so there is less strain on hyperdrive priming and more output for faster ignition.”

You smiled at him and moved to sit on a crate. You only partially understood what he was saying. “That’s good to hear.”

Tech nodded and resumed his work. You watched him, fascinated. His aptitude for engineering of any kind was admirable. Though you weren’t techno-illiterate – you could work a datapad and fly a ship, you knew nothing about mechanics beyond recognising the names of things. Tech always knew exactly what parts were what and how to use them, which tool to take to them. You could stitch up wounds, but this was different. He could build things – pull together seemingly complicated and unrelated components to make something tangible and operational.

“How can you remember what part is what? And how to fix it?” you asked after a stretch of silence.

Tech stopped and looked at you. “My genetic enhancements are increased intellect and aptitude for technology.”

“I know, but how do you remember it all? How do you have space for it up there?” You tapped your temple with a curious smile.

You could see gears turning in his head as his hands stilled. “I’m not sure I understand the question…I just simply do.”

Tech put down the Harris wrench in the box and met your gaze, which must’ve been furrowed pensively at his vagueness because then he picked up a calibrator and continued talking as he turned back to the ship.

“Though increased neuron capacity and information processing factor into my abilities, I still had to learn; to form a basis of knowledge that could be built upon as my understanding of concepts grew. I wasn’t born knowing the schematics of a T1 Hyperdrive and how to wire its various transmitters.”

You tittered but listened as he turned back and placed the calibrator away.

“However, we all have our aptitudes. The same way you know all the ways a body works, and how to fix them – I know all the ways machines work, and how to fix them.”

You smiled at his words. “I suppose you’re right.”

He twirled a tool between his fingers. “I often am.”

You grinned, meeting his honey-eye gaze behind his goggles. Tech’s mouth turned up at the corners slightly before turning away again, the open hull engulfing him as he rewired something. He suddenly stopped, head lifting up and turning to you with a thoughtful look.

“What?” you frowned in concern.

“Come here.”

Your frown deepened and you pushed yourself off the crate, moving closer to him. He guided you closer with a hand to the small of your back, and you brushed up against him as he maneuvered you to stand in front of him. Your face flushed and you were very glad he couldn’t see it.

“These are the wires to the power couplings that syphon power from the auxiliary engines to the main thrusters,” he told you, his gloved fingers running along the four coloured wires in front of you slowly.

You look up at him slightly confused before nodding. “Okay?”

Tech pointed and ran the tip of his finger over one of the wires. “See how one is slightly more charred than the others?”

You swallowed and nodded.

“That wire has short-circuited, causing lag when the Marauder accelerates because three wires are doing the job of four. What do you think will happen to the other wires if we don’t fix the short?”

You looked back at him, frown increasing. “I thought you knew all about this?”

Tech raised an amused brow at you. “I do. I am teaching you.”

“Oh!” Your cheeks flamed and butterflies swooped in your stomach. Embarrassed and nervous, you cleared your throat to answer his question. “Um, well I suppose if the other wires are being overworked, then they’ll short out too?”

“That is correct,” he nodded. “If wires transmit more power than their capacity, then not only can they short, but they can also degrade the ship’s performance.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” you joked lightly.

“No, we can’t. So, you’re going to help me rewire this one.”

Tech stepped away to grab a new wire from the case next to the toolbox, and your heart sped up, hands tingling with nervous energy.

“Are you sure? What if I do something wrong?”

Tech pushed his goggles up his nose. “You won’t. I’m an excellent teacher.”

And he was. He guided you through the process clearly, showing you the parts and the tools before he watched you use a micro-welder to fix the shorted wire.

“Keep it steady,” he said, placing a hand on yours, helping you move it across the ends of the wire. Your heartbeat quickened and your face heated up. His slender and dexterous hand engulfed yours, and you could feel the grooves of his white plastoid armour against your shoulder as his body brushed against you. If you leaned back, your back would meet his chest, and those dexterous hands of his might even steady you with a hold of your hips. You pushed the thoughts from your mind, doing everything you could to focus on the tool in your hand and not how close he was, and how easy it would be to get even closer.

“There,” Tech declared, removing his hand from yours. “That should do it.”

You cradled the tool to your chest, tightening your grip on it as he took a step back. You simultaneously felt cold and hot all over as you watched Tech grab his datapad, pressing a few buttons before hovering it over the length of the wire. “The diagnostic report shows that the wire is functional.”

You blinked in surprise. “I did it?”

“Of course, you did,” Tech adjusted his goggles. “With my excellent instruction and your intellect, changing a shorted wire is quite simple.”

Your chest tightened. “You think I’m smart?”

Tech paused for a moment before he started tapping the screen again. “You’re a proficient medic, that takes high levels of understanding.”

Your face stretched into a grin, warmth pooling in your stomach as your grip on the tool loosened. “You think I’m smart.”

Tech looked up at you before the corner of his mouth lifted impishly. “Well, perhaps not as smart as me.”

“I don’t think anyone is as smart as you, Tech,” you gave a lilted laugh, placing the micro-welder in the box with the other tools, feeling light inside. Tech’s smile was sort of everything…and to earn one was a privilege.

To be a witness to Tech in his most honest, comfortable form was not something experienced by many people outside of his brothers, and now, you too. You looked at him now, so engrossed in whatever the screen was telling him, and felt your heart swell and fall for him just a little more. You wanted to know why he decided to show you how to fix a shorted wire, but you didn’t want to ruin this moment by revealing feelings that may not be returned. So instead, you settled for:

“Thanks for showing me how to do that.”

His eyes slid to you before nodding and returning his gaze to the screen. “It is a useful skill to have. I’m happy to teach you whatever else you’d like to know.”

You took in a breath. Teaching you this was just another small thing to Tech, but it still showed how much he cared, just like everything else he did. “I’d like that,” you told him after a moment, your heart beating fast, even though you were sure he was just offering to be nice.

Tech’s hand stilled over his datapad before he fully looked up at you, a wrinkle in his brow that softened at your hopeful expression. Tech smiled again, his eyes shining behind those yellow-tinted goggles. And maybe it was just the Tatooine heat, but you could’ve sworn you saw the tips of his ears go pink before he adjusted his goggles and turned back to the Marauder, letting the mechanics envelop him again.

“The landing array needs recalibrating,” he said as he tugged on a part. “Shall I show you how to do that?”

You smiled at him. “Yes, please.”

thank you for reading! i have more requests to get through so i'll likely get through those in a couple of weeks!'

banner art by @vimse

taglist: @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @seriowan @thrawns-babygirl @freesia-writes @bobaprint @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @crosshairsnose @wreckerswife @leavingkamino @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @snarky-mans-gf @mylifeisactuallyamess @cloned-eyes @chopperbase @wenalena @bluebird-dreams @pb-jellybeans @a-streakofblue @rexamongthestars @r2d2staser @theawkwardartist12

please let me know if you'd like to be removed/added

i'm gonna make a taglist form one of these days trust

[pixelmaker54]

Tech...

[lightspringrain]

These are panels for chapter 1 and chapter 2 of my CX-2 Tech fanfic "Return From Darkness". If you like emotionally rich, grounded and character driven stories, please be sure to check it out! It is one emotional roller coaster ride. Art done by Collophora. Concepts by me.

[techtronicarts]

Crrrrrraaaaaazy styyyyyllllluh!

[here-comes-the-moose]

Crosshair, bitter youngest child: Are we seriously going to let Hunter keep Omega?

Tech, not looking up from his work: We let you keep Echo.

[darthkote]

[aaaaawolfquarters]

Another tbb fic

An AU where things are quite similar to cannon with one major difference:

Omega grew up as part of the batch, as their medic

And Tech is a child on Kamino

[vivaislenska]

Happy Friday, TBB fanmily!

Excuse the wippery but I just love them taking caring of each other. I want to share it while it’s still baking so I’ll be held accountable to try to finish it this weekend 😄

Ficlet synopsis below

Tech: Crosshair, please hold still.

Crosshair: Speak for yourself.

Tech tends a deep wound in Crosshair’s forearm after a nearly disastrous mission to destroy a shield generator. Crosshair was so focused down-range on his brothers, that he didn’t notice the commando droid sneaking up in him until it was too late to dodge it completely. Tech asks Crosshair to keep still, but it’s actually Tech who is trembling because he’s so worried about Crosshair. 💗

[kybercrystals94]

Banner by @the-little-moment

Most

@summer-of-bad-batch | Week #1: “You’re here. You’re safe.” | Bonus Prompt #2: “I am seldom wrong.”

Read here on Ao3

Rated: G | Words: 618

“Tech?” 

The tremulous voice at his back admittedly startles him. More in the fact that the girl must have intentionally walked past their three emotionally intelligent (albeit sleeping) brothers in order to come to the cockpit and find him, specifically. 

She is unfamiliar with him yet, unaware of just how inept he is with the subject of nightmares. Not his own, of course. He has experienced plenty in his years. But with his brothers’. He has never been the first choice for comfort. Not even the second or third. They would rely first on their own methods of self-soothing than come to him. That is a fair and logical assessment. He understands in the same vein that it grieves him. 

After all, he did not choose to be as he is. And in all his vast and impressive knowledge, he cannot seem to figure out any other way to be. He can rewire innumerable systems effortlessly, and yet his own mind is untouchable. It is frustrating, but it is a fact. He has come to reluctantly accept it. 

Omega does not know that. Not yet. 

But she will. She is incredibly observant. It is only a matter of time. 

Tech turns to face the doorway and acknowledges her fully. “Omega.” 

The little clone girl stands there, stiffly, Wrecker’s worn stuffed animal strangled in her narrow arms. They watch each other for several long moments. Tech is not sure what she is waiting for. Or what he is waiting for, for that matter. 

He clears his throat. “Is there something I can assist you with?” 

Omega blinks at him, and she suddenly looks all too much like a young Crosshair. Pale hair and knowing eyes, searching his face for something Tech could never hope to grasp. But Crosshair is gone, and Omega is here. 

Tech moves his gaze to the ship floor between his boots.

“I dreamed I was still on Kamino,” Omega tells him. 

Tech nods. “I see. That must have been disorienting.” 

Omega makes a quiet noise of assent. Then, “Can I stay with you?” 

Tech forces himself to look up at her soft, open expression. “If that would be helpful, of course.” 

Omega smiles at him, and Crosshair vanishes behind the gentle expression. “Thanks, Tech.” She moves to the copilot’s seat and climbs up; one arm still protectively wrapped around Lula’s stuffed neck. Omega shifts and adjusts her position to make herself comfortable. 

Silence reclaims the cockpit, but Tech cannot find it in himself to go back to his previous task. So, he waits attentively, should Omega want to say or ask anything else. 

Tech is surprised when his own voice speaks up, unprompted. “You are here, and you are safe, Omega. I find that it is helpful to reiterate known facts when one’s subconscious has suggested falsehood.” 

Omega smiles at him, and if he isn’t mistaken, there is something like relief evident in the sudden slack of her shoulders. “It helps more when you say it,” she tells him. 

Surprise seems to be Tech’s other companion in the cockpit tonight. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Omega says, but to his disappointment, she does not elaborate further. 

“Any of the others would have said as much,” Tech assures her. 

“But it’s different hearing it from the smartest person in the whole galaxy,” Omega returns indulgently. 

A warmth of pride floods his chest cavity, even if her assessment is an astronomical exaggeration. “Well,” he tells her, chuckling. “I am seldom wrong.” 

Omega’s smile deepens. “That’s why I knew you’d help me most.” 

Most. 

More than Hunter or Wrecker or Echo. 

Gratified by this unexpected turn of events, Tech smiles back. Perhaps Omega is more aware than he initially anticipated. 

Fascinating. 

Tag List: @arctrooper69 @groguandthebadbatch @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver @laughhardrunfastbekindsblog @omegafett99 @heidnspeak @fionas-frenzy @dreamsight73 @royallykt @blackseafoam @skellymom

[leapingbadger]

Confined

Summary: The Batch are grounded on Kamino but are unsure why. Takes place after Echo joins but before they meet Omega. (Read it on AO3)

Word Count: 2729

“Crosshair, if you flick a toothpick at me one more time I’m going to stab you in the eye with it,”

“Nice talk, Reg. I’d like to see you try,” Crosshair spat, as Echo scowled and sank into his hammock.

A sheet of rain slammed against the window of their bunk room. They had been grounded for days and the tension was starting to get too much for them all. Hunter wasn’t sure why they were able to stay civil on the Marauder, in much tighter quarters, but when stuck in the sterile halls of Kamino, friction erupted quickly. Maybe Kamino just brought out the worst in them.

“Easy fellas,” Hunter said in a warning growl.

“How long do we have to be stuck here, anyway?” Wrecker wined from his bunk, tossing his tookah doll, Lula, in the air and catching her.

“If I knew that I would have told you already,” Hunter said grumpily.

“Perhaps you could use the time to clean your bunk. You still haven’t located the origin of the smell,” Tech said, without looking up from his latest project.

“You’re one to talk,” Echo said looking at Tech’s bunk scattered with machinery, wires, bolts and other detritus.

Tech raised an eyebrow to his newest brother, “While my bunk isn’t up to regulation standards it isn’t the biohazard Wrecker’s is,”

“Yeah? Well, at least I clean myself. When was the last time you hit the fresher?” Wrecker asked accusingly.

“I’ll have you know that…”

Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. They all needed to get out of here before they killed each other.

“Where are you going?” Crosshair asked as Hunter crossed to the door.

“To get our orders,”

“Don’t they usually come to us?” Tech asked.

“Yeah, but I’m tired of waiting. Aren’t you?”

With the whoosh of the door, he disappeared into the bright, clinical hallways of Kamino.

***

Hunter made his way through the winding halls of Kamino. He wished he’d thought to grab his helmet. The bright, white light of the halls almost made him squint, and his helmet was the perfect buffer.

He wasn’t really sure how to go about getting their orders. He could go to the command room, but most of the time the Regs didn’t have anything for them. Their missions came from unknown sources, whichever commander happened to be in the room when someone asked for them. But at least he was doing something, and out of the stifling bunk room with his baying brothers.

He weaved in and out through Kaminoan medical techs, hovering droids and Regs on their way to the mess. Two shinies made their way past him.

“What kind of armor is that?” Hunter heard one asked the other.

“Special ops. I think that’s one of the Kaminoan pets” the other responded with a grin.

“Pets?”

“Yeah, the head scientist has her own group she runs experiments on,”

Hunter had stopped in his tracks, forcing others to walk around him.

“You got a problem, reg?” he asked, moving his way over to their side of the corridor. Both men, stopped, looking startled and flustered. Hunter hated how similar they looked to him, or him to them. They may have had regulation haircuts and been devoid of tattoos, but his own eyes stared back at him, and he despised it. He may not have quite reached their height, but he knew how to intimidate when he wanted to, and he wasn’t even trying this time.

“No, eh, everything’s, fine. Sorry.” One of them spluttered, searching his batch mates face for assistance. None was forthcoming.

“It’s Sergeant, or Sir.” Hunter said, authoritatively.

“Yes, sir,” the Regs said in unison.

“Your heart rate’s up a little,” Hunter said to the trooper on the left, “you might want to get that looked at.”

Hunter watched as they scurried away and smiled to himself. He knew he shouldn’t mess with the Regs as a sergeant, but they had started it. They deserved it. He was glad Crosshair wasn’t with him otherwise they both would have ended up in the med bay, and Hunter would have had a mountain of paperwork to complete.

Hunter rounded the corner and almost collided with a Kaminoan. On second glance he realized it was Nala-se. A medical droid hovered over her shoulder.

“CT-9901, we have been trying to locate you. You and your squad are required for testing.”

Hunter balked; they hadn’t been tested since their early missions in the field. What would be the point of doing so now?

“Why?” Hunter asked suspiciously.

Nala-Se ignored his question and began to walk in the direction he had just come from. “Your squad are already in the medical bay. This way.”

Hunter passed the two shinies on his way back through the corridors, the one on the left looking smug. He scowled but felt his cheeks burn as he was led to the med bay, like a creature on a leash.

The whurr of the droid’s boosters, the light of the hallway and the sterile smell of the medical wing all threatened to overwhelm his senses. He was relieved to be led into a large, dim ward and see his brothers each occupying a bed.

“What’s this about?” Crosshair snarled.

Hunter shrugged his shoulders, “What do you think, Tech? can you find out anything?”

Tech pushed his goggles up on his nose from the bunk at the far side of the room. He was bent over his data pad, feverishly pushing buttons.

“I have been searching since we were brought here. There is nothing in our files that would indicate the need for medical intervention. I doubt we will be informed. Short of asking Nala-Se directly.”

“Yeah, I already tried that,” Hunter grumbled.

His brothers were all stripped down to their blacks and Hunter started disassembling his armor without being asked. They had all been through enough Kaminoan experiments and tests over the years to know the drill by now.

When the door on the far side of the room whooshed open, Nala-Se entered, her large black eyes resting of each of the squad mates in turn.

“CT-1409. We shall start with you,”

Hunter watched Echo stand up obediently and give a reassuring nod to the sergeant. He followed the Kaminoan out of the room without a word.

“So, this was why we were grounded?” Wrecker asked

“Must be. Although why they didn’t schedule the tests remains a mystery. This is a deviation from standard procedure.” Tech responded, stroking his chin.

“Maybe this isn’t republic testing. Maybe it’s the Kammies checking up on us.” He said grimly. The four brothers exchanged looks. It had been a long time since they had been strictly under the jurisdiction of the Kaminoan’s. Once they had won their place in the field, they were Republic soldiers first, even if they were Nala-Se’s ‘pet project’. Hunter bristled as he thought of going back to the old way. The testing, the fear of deactivation. They had proved their worth again and again. He wouldn’t let his squad be turned back into science experiments. They’d leave before he let that happen.

It wasn’t too long before the door slid open again and Echo reentered the room. He gave a shrug as he sat down.

“CT-9901” Nala-Se said slowly from the doorway. The Kaminoa’s were nothing if not predictable. Always numerical order when testing.

Hunter gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile to his brothers and followed her out of the room and across the hall to a smaller exam room. The lights were brighter here. A large scanner sat in the middle of the room and Hunter hopped on without being asked.

Nala-se spoke briefly with another Kaminoan pressing buttons on the control panel before retreating. Hunter knew she would be lingering behind the mirror on the far side wall. She was never too far away from her experiments.

Hunter laid down when prompted. The metal bed beneath him was cold through his blacks. The lights above him left spots on his eyes and he closed them in an attempt to make them go away. The machine around him hummed to life, pulsing every few seconds. The sterile smell of bacta and disinfectant filled his nose, so much so he could taste it.

The humming of the machine grew louder. He felt warmth, then heat from either side of his head and knew that the scan was about to start. He felt the crackle of the electricity next to his ears and with a loud whirr, it began.

He opened his eyes long enough to see white light out of the corner of each eye. The warmth he had felt earlier began to slowly lick his skin, then penetrate his skull. It wasn’t painful. The sensation was one of heat, energy and vibration. It wasn’t pleasant but Hunter had received enough blaster bolts, stab wounds, bruises and other maladies over the years that this was tame by comparison.

He didn’t have a sense of how long it took but It ended as abruptly as it had started with no direction from the Kaminoan still in the room. Hunter focused on the glass and closed his eyes to see if he could hear anything. Nala-Se was keenly aware of his enhancements and usually refrained from speaking when he was around.

“…Due to the unusual cranial activity, it is difficult to determine whether it is functioning as intended. I hypothesize that until the order is given, we will not know more. Unless removal and analysis is required before hand.” Nala-Se spoke in her slow, sing-song voice.

“No. They are Kaminoan assets. Test the rest for our files and release them. We will keep a closer eye on them until it happens.”

Hunter couldn’t be sure, but the second voice sounded like the Kaminoan Prime minister, although why he would be involved in routine testing he didn’t know. He sat up on the bench and waited to be dismissed.

Nala-Se reentered the room, her pale, ghostly face indeterminable. She led him back across the hall where he could reclaim his place amongst his brothers.

Hunter watched as each brother in turn followed the scientist across the hall and back. Each one relaying the same experience he had had. Each none the wiser for why they were being tested and what for.

Crosshair was the last to follow Nala-Se. But after the standard time (fifteen minutes according to Tech) he didn’t return. Hunter stood up from his bed and started pacing the length of the room as Tech rattled off the reasons for the delay.

“Perhaps the machinery malfunctioned after repeated use. Or Crosshair could have assaulted one of the medical droids, it wouldn’t be the first time…”

“I don’t like it,” Echo said, “want me to scomp in and see what I can find?” he said, glaring at the astromech interface in the wall under the door panel.

“If you did, they would know,” Tech said with the air of someone stating the obvious. “I’m sure Crosshair can handle anything the Kaminoa’s can throw at him,”

As the time ticked on, and Crosshair failed to return the rest of the batch became as restless as Hunter. Tech’s leg had started to jiggle nervously, Echo’s scomp would whir absentmindedly and Wrecker followed behind Hunter, pacing the same path with heavy footfalls.

It was another forty-five minutes before their brother walked through the door. His shoulders were slumped, sweat beaded in his hairline and he cradled his head in his left hand as though nursing a particularly severe headache.

Nala-Se stood in the doorway, her lanky silhouette blocking out most of the glaring light of the hallway. “You are dismissed,” she stated formerly. “You will return to your barracks. Your new orders will follow shortly.”

“You okay, Cross?” Hunter asked as soon as the door had slid shut behind the Kaminoan.

Crosshair grunted a response. Tech picked up a med scanner from a nearby console and waived it over his brother.

“You seem in perfect health but perhaps we should return to our room to rest. We do not know what the new orders will be.”

Hunter nodded in agreement, “Wrecker, give Cross a hand.” The bruiser nodded and swung his arm under his slender brother, taking most of his weight.

Hunter lingered behind as the others followed them out. He did a double check of the room and his armor and doubled his stride to catch up. He’d told the others of the conversation he overheard but no one had an idea of what had just transpired, even Tech.

***

The atmosphere in their room was entirely different when Hunter walked through the door after their time in the med bay. His squad had scattered to their respective bunks. Wrecker had convinced Crosshair to lay down. The lights had been dimmed, a soft glow emitting from the fairy lights wrecker had made when they were cadets. The smell that had been so noxious to Hunter earlier had faded, or perhaps, he was just getting used to it.

Echo leaned over the side of his hammock as Tech showed him something amusing on his datapad. They both chuckled and leaned closer as Tech’s fingers danced over the keys.

Hunter sighed as he sank into his bunk and started slowly removing his armor again. The rain that had been hammering on the window earlier was lighter now, a restful patter that threatened to lull him to sleep.

He looked over at Crosshair, curled in the fetal position under the blanket Wrecker had lovingly pulled up to his shoulders. Hunter listened intently to his slow heartbeat and was satisfied that nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Why had they kept Crosshair so much longer than the rest? He had been hoping to ask him but that seemed unlikely now.

They spoke to each other in quiet voices as Crosshair’s chest rose and fell slowly. There was a sense of relief that whatever the Kaminoan’s were testing for, they had all seemed to pass.

Tech had already hacked into their updated files but found no information about what the long necks were looking for. “I will check again in a few days. If something is there, I will find it.”

Interference by the Kaminoan’s always set Hunter off kilter. He had been lulled into a false sense of security, but today’s events reinstated the notion that their lives were not their own, and not the republics either.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. Crosshair was back to his old self after a few hours sleep although couldn’t tell them much about his experience. He didn’t seem to remember the testing.

The squad spent their remaining hours on Kamino spread around the large table in the center of the room. Tech’s projects had been pushed to the far end, much to his chagrin and Sabaac cards sat in front of each squad member.

“Who’s going first,” Wrecker asked, Lula tucked under his arm for luck.

“No using your enhancements,” Echo said, eyes narrowed at his new brothers but a smile on his lips.

“I can’t turn my ears off, Echo,” Hunter said with a laugh, “it’s not my fault your heart rattles in your chest like bantha in heat,”

“I was actually taking to The Brain,” Echo said, shooting a suspicious look at Tech.

“I am no more able to shut off my brain than Hunter his senses,” He replied matter-of-factly and he held his cards up to his goggles.

“Can we just get on with it?” Crosshair hissed. His eyes were still dark from his experience in the med bay, but otherwise he seemed back to his usually charming self.

“Don’t even think about flicking that at me,” Echo said, eyes narrowed at the toothpick in Crosshair’s hand.

“What are you gunna do about it, Reg?” Crosshair said, affectionately.

Hunter signed, a smile crossing his lips. He knew once their new orders came down, they would swing into action. He felt a twinge of worry at the events of the day but tried to push it to the back of his mind for now. He wanted to relax and enjoy the rare, peaceful time with his brothers. Whatever the future brought, he knew they would be able to handle it, together.

[padawan-snack-packer]

[You Give Them a Hug — Bad Batch (+ Omega!) Edition]

(aka: You broke them. And now they’re in love with you forever.)

So you peeps seemed to love the Clones Edition over here, so here is the Bad Batch version of it!!!

⚠️ TW: Not Canon. Just Vibes. ⚠️

This post contains: – Excessive hugging. – Deeply non-canon affection. – Clones feeling emotions they were not properly equipped to process. – A concerning lack of military professionalism. – Irreversible softness.

If you're looking for canon compliance, emotional restraint, or literally any kind of plot... you're in the wrong galaxy, sweetheart.

This is just me projecting unhinged love onto traumatized war orphans with muscles.

Proceed at your own risk. Hug responsibly. 💥🤗💥

Hunter

You hug Hunter and he just… stops functioning.

Like you initiated it mid-mission and this man has full-on emotion-induced lag.

“...Why’d you do that?”

“Because I wanted to.”

Loading Hunter.exe

He gives you this soft, stunned look like he didn’t know he needed physical affection until just now.

His return hug is slow, careful, warm. His arms wrap around your back and he doesn’t squeeze—he holds.

Stays silent for a moment. Then a low murmur: “...thanks. I needed that.”

From that point on, it’s Hunter Hug Radar Mode™.

You’re sad? He’s already moving.

You’re happy? Hug.

You yawned vaguely near him? “You look tired. C’mere.”

Somehow always smells like leather, dirt, and safety. It's like hugging your childhood treehouse and a protective panther.

Wrecker

OH.

OH YOU’RE IN FOR IT NOW.

You hug Wrecker and he goes FULL GOLDEN RETRIEVER MELTDOWN.

“AWwwwWWWWWWW!!! C’mere!!!”

Picks you up. Swings you. Spins you around until you’re dizzy and giggling and possibly concussed.

His hugs are LIFE-THREATENINGLY STRONG. Like being hit with a loving freight train.

“You’re the best! I’m gonna hug you every day forever now!!”

Immediately makes you a “You Hugged Wrecker” award out of scrap metal. It has glitter glue.

He initiates hugs constantly now. If you don’t hug him back fast enough, he starts whining like a sad bantha.

Tells Crosshair about the hug with tears in his eyes. Crosshair pretends not to care.

“They hugged me, man. Me!! WRECKER!!”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t start crying again.”

Tech

You hug Tech and it’s like hugging a 3D-printed anxiety machine.

Freezes.

“Wh—what are you doing? Is this…physical bonding? Are you malfunctioning? Am I??”

Absolutely stiff as a board. One arm hovers near your back like he's trying to remember what humans do.

You explain it’s just a hug. Tech mutters: “Hmmm. Fascinating. Increases oxytocin. Improves cardiovascular health. Reduces cortisol. Hm.”

But then you do it again.

And he goes quiet.

Softer.

Then his hands gently rest on your back and he melts like butter under a Tatooine sun.

You pull away and he clears his throat 14 times and then gives you a 12-slide presentation on “the measurable benefits of repeat physical affection among squadmates (with graphs).”

Secretly loves it. Won’t say it, but builds you a hug simulator in case he’s unavailable.

Crosshair

Oh.

OH YOU BRAVE, BRAVE FOOL.

You hug Crosshair and it’s like hugging a sniper rifle possessed by the ghost of unresolved trauma.

“...What the kriff are you doing?”

Arms at his sides. Staring down at you like you're a wild animal. Clearly thinking “kill or cuddle?”

You say “just hugging you.” And he just…blinks. Once. Twice.

Then you feel it: the tiniest shift. He leans in. One hand—just one—lands gently at your waist.

It’s not a full hug. It’s not even half a hug.

It’s 0.5 seconds of fragile vulnerability.

Then he pulls back and growls “Don’t make a big deal out of it.” …But his ears are pink. And he doesn’t move away from you for the rest of the day.

Later that week, you find a ration bar left on your bunk. It’s the good flavor.

Written in Sharpie on the wrapper: "Since you like touching people. Here's something to touch your mouth." (he tried)

Echo

Echo is a man held together by trauma, stubbornness, and like...two screws and a charging port.

You hug Echo and it’s like hugging a haunted vending machine with trust issues.

He doesn’t react at first. Just stiffens. Hard. Like his brain didn’t even register this as an available interaction option.

“...Why?” he asks, very quietly. Not suspicious. Not annoyed. Just… genuinely confused. Like he doesn’t think people do that to him anymore.

You say, “Because you deserve it.” And he. Short circuits.

It’s all in the eyes. That distant, shell-shocked clone stare goes soft. And sad. You get half a breath of “I don’t—” before his voice goes hoarse and he just leans in.

One arm—cold metal, whirring servos—wraps around you. The other presses tight, his hand fisting in the back of your shirt like he’s scared you’ll vanish.

His forehead rests on your shoulder. You feel him exhale. And it’s the sound of a man finally letting go of a weight he’s carried since the Citadel.

When he pulls back, his face is unreadable. But he says “...Thanks,” with such quiet, aching sincerity it wrecks you for 48 hours.

The next time you get hurt, Echo’s at your side before the medic droid.

He doesn’t hug you again right away. But he touches your shoulder now. Bumps your arm. Stays close.

Then one day—randomly, silently—he hugs you first. No words. Just that same warm, quiet grip. Like saying: I’m still here. And so are you.

Omega

YOU HUG OMEGA??

SHE SHRIEKS WITH GLEE AND TACKLES YOU LIKE A TINY STAR-WARS THEMED KOALA.

“HUG TIME!!!”

Wraps every limb around you like she’s a baby monkey and you’re a tree.

Refuses to let go for 10 minutes. It’s warm. It’s pure. It’s the most healing hug in galactic history.

Immediately declares you her “hug buddy.”

Makes you a friendship bracelet with “❤️ HUGS THUGS 4 LIFE ❤️” on it.

Tries to get the rest of the squad to join in. “Group hug! Come on! HUNTAH YOU’RE NOT TA COOL FOR LOVE.”

Eventually becomes hug ambassador. Sneak attacks everyone until the whole squad is touch-positive.

Hunter now does “the forehead touch.” Wrecker hugs everyone at breakfast. Tech nods politely and lets her sit in his lap. Crosshair lets her hug him while muttering “don’t tell anyone.”

🧸 BONUS: Bad Batch Group Hug™

You say “GROUP HUG” and Wrecker YEETS HIMSELF AT YOU FIRST.

Omega screams “YESSSS!!” and jumps on like a koala.

Tech mutters “Oh no it’s happening again” and gets absorbed into the chaos.

Crosshair stands two meters away looking like a feral cat. But you hold out your hand and he sighs, grumbles, and slinks in like he’s being drafted into a cult.

It’s warm. It’s slightly sweaty. Someone’s armor is digging into your hip. But everyone’s breathing slows down. There’s peace.

You say “I love you guys” and Hunter goes silent. Then softly replies: “Yeah. You too.”

[sinisterexaggerator]

I made some Tech dividers!

If you use them, a like or a reblog would be appreciated!

[arctrooper69]

Mine

Here's my piece for the wonderful @isaidonyourknees for the @cloneficgiftexchange! So sorry it's a day and a half late! 😂😅

Warnings: Suggestive spice (nothing explicit), unwanted advances, jealousy, angst

--------------------------------------------------

"Leave me alone, Crosshair." The order meant to be snappish slipped out instead with a tired sigh.

"No," came the reply.

You sighed again as you felt him shift and sit down a few feet away. No more words were exchanged - the silence felt both peaceful, yet suffocating.

"Why are you up here pouting?" He finally spoke.

You glanced at him sharply. "I'm not pouting!"

"Yes you are."

"No. I'm not!"

He huffed dryly. "Sure looks like it to me."

"Hunter benched me!"

Crosshair shifted and sighed, "It's for your own good."

You scoffed, "And how would you know what's good for me?"

"You're exhausted. You're off your game."

"I'm fine. I feel fine."

He sighed again and you could practically feel him rolling his eyes. "That constant tapping of your foot and the way you're shaking tells me you're trying to run on stims and caf."

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. "And how would you know?"

He was silent. "Because I've done the same thing."

"So that makes you think you're better than me?"

"No."

You crossed your arms, turning away from him. “I’m still not pouting.”

“Sure.”

You glared at him out of the corner of your eye. “Just go away.” This time the words did deliver the sharp edge you’d wanted before, but now you weren’t sure it was exactly what you wanted.

You didn’t know what you wanted.

“Fine, came the equally snappish response. Crosshair stood and headed back down the wooded trail. A sudden disappointment threatened to overtake you and a heat burned in the back of your throat as you tried to swallow it back.

“Crosshair wait…” you called out, turning to face him as he paused and turned back.

“What?”

“I…” You stopped. No. Crosshair had better things to do than to deal with emotions that you yourself couldn’t even decipher. “Nevermind.”

For a second he paused, almost as if waiting for you to once again change your mind. He shook his head and turned around once again, disappearing into the woods, leaving you on your own.

Fine. It’s fine. You’d asked for privacy and that’s exactly what he gave you. Yet, it felt lonely nonetheless.

Crosshair was confusing to say the least. One moment it felt like he was trying to make an emotional connection, and the next he acted like he wanted nothing to do with you.

The roar of engines echoed through the trees from the base of the hill as the Marauder soared into the sky and disappeared into the atmosphere.

***

It seemed like forever ago that you'd met the surly sniper on a job. It was forever ago. So much had changed since a heated exchange of angry words led to a moment of heedless passion. One night. A romance ignited by the very intensity that divided you. The same fingers that rested pompously on the trigger of a rifle soon pulled through tangled hair and moved with purpose against your warmth. Tongues once sharp and taunting, now slotted through parted lips with desperate pleas for more.

And then it was over. Back to the cold realities of war. No words were spoken, only awkward avoidances and inverted eyes.

Talk to me, you'd wanted to say. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.

Perhaps that's all it was to him. Maybe you'd given him everything he wanted in that moment. Maybe that's all you were to him - a distraction - a soldier's relief from the stress of a never ending war.

You'd wanted to say something but the words wouldn't come. Then the galaxy changed and as the Republic fell, so did your hopes.

And now after so long, he was back.

***

It was nearing dusk before you finally pushed yourself from the ground and headed back down the path.

Fueled by a growing sense of hunger and the need to be around others, you found yourself walking towards the local cantina.

The music blared from somewhere above, pumping a bass that rattled your bones.

Despite the club-like atmosphere the lighting was dim, illuminating the same bar scene that haunted almost every planet in the galaxy.

The air was thick with the scent of spice and the sound of raucous laughter. You sat at the bar, nursing a drink. Despite the bustle, it still felt lonely.

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

Fingers ran across your back as you spun around to face the unfamiliar voice.

A large nikto smiled drunkenly over at you as he leaned against the bar.

“You look lonely. You here alone?”

His breath reeked of alcohol. “You're real pretty,” he slurred, reaching out to grab your arm.

You jerked away, shooting him a glare. "Back off," you growled, voice barely audible over the din of the crowd.

The nikto persisted, his grip tightening. "Come on, don't be like that.”

“Dude,” you rolled your eyes, “leave me alone.”

He sighed, seemingly annoyed at your refusal.

“A pretty girl like you shouldn't be alone in a place like this. Let me at least walk you home, baby.”

“Don't call me that,” You spat, wrenching your arm from his grip.

His jaw stiffened as he stood up straighter.

“You should be more grateful that I'm even giving you the time of day, bitch!”

Now it was your turn to stand. The nikto grabbed your arm again. Your fingers curling into a fist, ready to strike the stupid smirk from his drunken face.

"She's not yours to touch."

A familiar voice growled from behind as the nikto’s hand was wrenched from your arm with a cry of pain.

Crosshair.

What was he doing back already? You turned to face him standing behind you, expression dark and dangerous. His hand rested on the blaster at his hip, ready to draw at a moment's notice.

The nikto's eyes narrowed. “And who do you think you are, asshole?”

Crosshair glowered, taking a menacing step forward. “I'm the guy who's going to put an extra hole in you if you don't leave immediately.”

The nikto paused, unsure if he was bluffing or not.

Crosshair clicked the safety off, loosening the blaster from its holster.

"I'm not gonna ask you again," he said, voice low and threatening.

The nikto had enough. “Geez, okay fine! I'm leaving!”

Without another word, he turned and fled, disappearing into the crowd.

You stood silently watching as Crosshair stepped forward, his practiced eyes scanning every inch of you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, “Did he hurt you?”

You let out a shaky breath, “No,” you murmured, “I'm fine.” A smile flitted across your face as you looked up.

Honey brown eyes stared sharp, pierced with concern and something else.

Jealousy?

“Good.” He replied. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something more but couldn't find the courage to do so.

But this time something rose within your own chest, warm and encouraging.

“Crosshair?” The words came timidly despite their bold intent.

He looked sharply, “What?”

“What did you mean by that? ‘She's not yours to touch’?” You asked. His hand, still on your arm, gripped a bit tighter, pulling you close. Something flashed in his eyes. It wasn't the hardness you'd come to expect from him.

“It means you're mine. You've always been mine.”

--------------------------------------------------

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[lightspringrain]

These pieces are for chapter 3 "Devour Hope" of my on going CX-2 Tech AU "Return From Darkness." Hope you enjoy!

Art done by Collophora. Concepts by me.

[bad-batch-lurker]

I was walking to the subway last night, when it occurred to me that there’s no way Tech doesn’t have an in-universe fan club.

After he wins that riot race, he immediately became a number of people’s favorite racer, and the fact that he disappeared absolutely fueled their fervor. People spend inordinate amounts of time breaking down his strategy. There are definitely message boards on the holonet speculating about his “real” identity and “where is he now?” Tech-stans fight with dudebro equivalents about whether or not his win was a fluke.

My evidence? I know how fandom works.