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skellymom · 3 days ago

Note

I would like a request which is heavy. I checked your do and don’t list and didn’t see this here so I thought I’d request. Please ignore if you don’t want to do this at all.

I was wondering if you could do something with tech and a female reader where reader gets attacked and experiences attempted SA (it does not have to be detailed) and he finds her after. I do not want it romanticised in any way, I’m just curious how he would react. It’s important topic for me and many and I feel like you of all people will do it justice. Thank you if you consider to do this. I’m also going to PM you about it ❤️

Heavy Rain

Pairings: Tech X FemaleReader

word count:

Sensitive content -please read with caution.

Plot: When Tech receives a transmission for him to help you alone, he did not expect what he would stumble upon.

Warnings: Trigger content ahead. This is your warning. ⚠️ Heavily implied attempts of sexual assault, descriptions of blood, scratching and bruising. Platonic relationship. Care and comfort. There is no romanticism in this fic.

The rain was falling harder now. A steady, unrelenting downpour against the durasteel walls of Ord Mantell’s alleyways and freight zones.

Tech didn’t notice it at first, his time taken up by being wedged beneath a control panel, coaxing frayed wiring back into order with practiced focus.

Then came the comm ping. At first he didn’t think much of it but then noticed that it was private and from you. Usually, you would access the shared comm channel and he was not typically your first point of call.

You had recently just gone out, maybe thirty minutes or so to ‘stretch your legs’ as you recalled to Echo. And despite your better judgement after Echo told you it was to rain soon, you still went out.

“This is Tech,” he answered automatically, pressing the switch at the side of his helmet.

There was static. Then a voice. Small and what sounds like shaking. “…Tech… I need… assistance.”

He didn’t look away from the panel. “I am a little preoccupied at this moment. May I pass this on to someone else—”

“No!”

Your voice cracked, the panic bleeding through even with poor signal. The single word halted him mid-sentence.

“J-just… follow my coordinates. Come alone. Please.”

That made him pause.

He pulled himself out from his task and sat up fully, eyes narrowing at the screen as your location pinged across his datapad. The map showed you just outside the freight district, not far from where the Marauder was docked.

“Do you require medical assistance?” he asked.

There was nothing but then , barely audible:

“…Yeah. D-don’t tell the others.”

Tech exhaled slowly through his nose. He didn’t like keeping things from the squad — especially not things that clearly involved distress, injury, or anything that altered plans. But something in your voice was off. He couldn’t parse it logically, but it felt wrong.

“Very well,” he said at last, grabbing his datapad. He stops by the gangplank, seeing the heavy rain and acknowledges that might need something warm and so grabbed a cloak that belonged to wrecker. “I am on my way.”

The walk turned into a jog the moment he stepped out into the rain.

It was heavier than expected, water soaking into his boots and gloves as he followed the tracker. The city around him was unusually quiet, the usual hustle muted by weather and late hour.

Tech’s eyes stayed glued to the scanner. The ping grew stronger.

He turned a corner, slowing to a halt as the signal chimed its proximity. The scanner indicated you were directly in front of him… but he didn’t see you.

Nothing but crates, a flickering streetlamp, and rain.

Then—

“Tech,” your voice croaked.

He turned sharply. You were behind a crate. Tucked away between two stacked shipping containers, your legs drawn to your chest, soaked through. Your body shrouded in the shadows.

He moved instantly, closing the distance in three long strides before crouching down to your level.

“Your nose is bleeding,” he observed, scanning your face, his tone neither panicked nor passive. Just focused. “And your lip appears swollen. Have you fallen over?”

You didn’t answer. Just closed your eyes as the rain poured down around both of you.

He leaned in, angling your shoulder forward to check for a head injury. No visible signs of concussion, though you were trembling. Your fingers dug into your sleeves. He didn’t miss the way your breathing skipped unevenly in your chest.

“Have you sustained a head wound?” he asked again, a little more gently now.

You shook your head.

Tech hesitated.

“Then I require clarification,” he said carefully. “You called for assistance. You are injured, visibly distressed. I need you to explain to me what has happened.”

Your breath hitched.

Then came the sob — sudden, strangled — as your hand flew to your mouth, like you could shove it back inside. Tech blinked, startled. It was a sound very rarely heard from anyone in the squad. He watched as you collapsed further into yourself, shaking from more than just the cold.

He reached for his comm, thumb brushing the toggle to alert Hunter.

Your eyes widened and then your hand shot out, grabbing his wrist with frantic force.

“No! Don’t!” you gasped. “Don’t call them, don’t call anyone!”

Tech froze in confusion. The strength of your reaction jolted him.

“I don’t want them to see me like this,” you stammered. Your words were broken, breathless, collapsing over one another.

“Omega, Omega can’t—I can’t and Echo will ask questions and Crosshair will know, and I just—”

You were hyperventilating now, voice tangled and messy, and Tech’s hand remained frozen where you held him.

“Okay,” he said at last, quietly. “I will not contact them. Not unless you ask me to.”

Your grip loosened slightly, and your eyes dropped to the soaked ground.

“Tell me,” Tech continued. His voice was low, unwavering, his expression unreadable. “Please tell me exactly what has happened. Have you been attacked?”

You bit back a whimper, your breath faltering again. Then almost mechanically you began to shift.

Your legs parted slowly, and Tech instinctively leaned back to give you space. His eyes stayed on your face at first, respectful and careful — until they dropped.

His breath caught in his chest.

The inner seams of your pants were torn jagged, uneven rips that didn’t look accidental. Bruising already darkened your upper thighs. Scratches crisscrossed your skin, raw and red. The rain couldn’t wash those marks away.

Your body was trembling violently now, arms tight around your middle. You couldn’t even look at him.

“I see,” Tech whispered, eyes scanning the injuries, brain parsing faster than his heart could follow. The moment held in silence; save for the rain.

His voice dropped further. “You need to answer me… have you been raped?”

You shook your head. “H-he tried…” Your voice cracked with the admission. “I fought… he heard people coming and ran.”

Tech didn’t blink. “And which direction did he go?”

There was a shift in his tone. Still steady, but something simmered beneath it. A sharpness. You barely managed a shrug, shoulders curling in.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I didn’t see.“

“I just wanted to go for a walk.” The last sentence broke apart as the tears came again, full and raw, spilling hot over your cheeks even as the rain streamed down your face. You hid behind your hands like it might stop the memory from clawing forward. Your voice had gone, and so had your breath, caught and broken in your chest.

Tech didn’t move for a moment. His mind raced, measuring the options, assessing your condition, calculating the risk of calling the others versus giving you time to stabilise. You were conscious, responsive, but clearly in shock. Medical protocol urged him to alert Hunter. His emotional instinct which was less familiar and less logical told him not to.

He made his decision.

Without a word, Tech shifted from his crouch and moved closer. His knees sank into the puddles, he sat down beside you, just close enough for his shoulder to brush yours. He silently grabbed the cloak he brought and pulled it over your body, shielding you from the rain and the horrors you found yourself in.

And he stayed there. No more questions. No more requests. No orders. Just silence.

The rain fell hard around you both. Fat, cold drops hammered the ground, pooling in shallow gutters and bouncing off crates. A flash of distant lightning briefly lit the edges of the alleyway.

Eventually, the sobs slowed. Your breathing didn’t settle, but it staggered into a softer rhythm. Your hands dropped from your face, fingers shaking as you tried to wipe the mess of tears from your cheeks. You glanced toward Tech.

He was speaking. His mouth moved but you couldn’t hear him over the echo of your own thoughts. Everything else was drowned by the sound of your innocence cracking like glass. The memory still clung to your skin, as real as the bruises. Shame curled in your stomach. You wanted to crawl out of your body and vanish.

Without thinking, your frame folded toward him.

You didn’t ask. You didn’t think.

You just collapsed into him.

Tech stilled in surprise — his back stiffening as your arms clutched his sides and your face pressed to his chest. He hesitated, his own arms suspended in the air for a beat too long, unsure.

Then, slowly — one hand touched your back. The other settled across your shoulders. Not gripping, not pulling, just holding.

You clung tighter.

“It’s alright,” he said softly, barely above a whisper. “You’re safe now. No one will harm you again.”

He wasn’t sure if it was true.

He wasn’t sure of anything except the sound of your breathing against him, the weight of your trembling, and the bitter taste rising in his mouth — rage, cold and clinical. It filtered through the cracks in his logical mind and settled in his chest like ice.

He didn’t raise the comm.

He didn’t activate his visor scanner.

But he was already mapping the area, cross-referencing your coordinates, timestamps, route logs. Estimating who might’ve been in the sector. Measuring likelihoods. Piecing together a profile.

Someone had tried to hurt you.

And Tech — who never believed in vengeance — was already calculating how to find him.

Above you both, the sky cracked open again. A new surge of rain poured down, heavy and relentless. But neither of you moved.

If you have been impacted by this story and need support if you’re living in England and Wales please see this website here. Other helplines are available.

Other links that might help:

NSVRC

RAINN

Crisis Text Line

you're not a victim for sharing your story. you are a survivor setting the world on fire with your truth. and you never know who needs your light, your warmth, and raging courage. -Alex Elle

Tags: @lulalovez @photogirl894 @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tentakelspektakel @stellarbit

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb tech

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skellymom · 3 days ago

Text

"LOST & FOUND (In Amish Paradise)" Chapter 2

"The Kitty Litter Incident"

*Five loveable idiots and one sweet summer child trapped in Amish Paradise: While stranded on Earth, the Batch attempt to drive a car and grocery shop in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. Will they survive? LOL.

The BAD BATCH x READER (Genderless) Fan Fic

(Put YOURSELF into this story!) SFW/COMEDY/MILD DRAMA: Some swearing.

Word count: 4K

To read LOST & FOUND Chapter 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/782210085449596928/lost-and-found?source=share

youtube

“Yaaa-chOOOO!”

Hunter startled awake, his hair a messy halo without the bandana.

Y/N across the room, tucked deep in the covers, attempted to blow their nose quietly.

Not quiet enough for Hunter, though. He rolled off the couch where he slept in the fixed-up basement and padded over to the bed where Y/N lay.

“You ok?” He whispered.

“Oh...sorry to wake you.” Y/N paused, face squinching...

Then sneezed again.

“Allergies” Y/N winced “And it set off my migraines.”

“Oof” Hunter commiserated.

Y/N blew their nose again. “Yet ANOTHER reason I sleep down here...” Massaging their forehead. “The dark helps...”

“Can I get you something?” Hunter wanted to help. He HATED when his senses were overwhelmed.

“Drugs in the medicine cabinet upstairs...” Y/N trailed off.

The basement door opened.

“Knock-knock?” Echo's voiced carried down the stairs. “Ok to come down?”

“Yeah.” Hunter answered. “Y/N’s not feeling too hot.”

Echo's boots clomped down the wooden stairs and thumped over area rugs covering the cold concrete floor. He made his way through the semi-darkness, appearing at Hunter’s side with a tray.

Hunter could smell warm chamomile tea and buttered toast.

“I...heard sneezing...” Echo’s smartass smirk at Hunter, whose dad sneeze was legendary among the Batchers for his "Turbo Sneezes” per Omega...and CLEARLY wasn’t his brother who was suffering down in the basement. “Figured SOMEONE could use some TLC.”

Echo was ALWAYS the earliest riser in the household. He took it upon himself to take on “Caf Duty” and start breakfast as Wrecker slept in and took on “Dinner Duty” later in the day. Tech hardly ever slept, so he would infodump while Echo scurried around the kitchen and later help with “Breakfast Dish Duty.” Eventually Crosshair would stir with “Doggie Duty” as he fed, let out, and walked Batcher. After that Cross joined his brothers for breakfast, letting Batcher clean his plate of whatever food wasn’t eaten. Omega and Wrecker were always the last out of bed.

Crosshair would send Batcher to the second floor to rouse them so they all could eat together.

In the past Hunter usually awakened when the first Batcher stirred, but sleeping in the dark cool basement gave him the best rest he’d had in a very long time. His brothers, Omega, and Batcher refrained from waking Hunter, preferring to let their sergeant sleep. The dark circles under Hunter’s deep-set eyes even seemed to lighten up since settling in at the new household.

Besides, Hunter could smell EVERYTHING being cooked in the kitchen above him. Everyone KNEW he’d awaken and creep upstairs when he was ready...and hungry.

Their host, Y/N kept a totally different schedule. They slept most of the day and were active in the afternoon and at night where Y/N would paint, make intricate beadwork, and write for a living. Part remote work and part local artist run co-op shop downtown paid some of the bills.

Y/N’s past roommates helped pay the rest.

Until they moved out due to a change in jobs in another state, which happened to correspond to The Batch landing in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. The clones had NO money to contribute, so they made sure to pitch in with cooking, cleaning, small repairs to the home, weeding the large backyard garden, ANYTHING to help their host.

The Batchers slowly started to acclimate into living the “slow life” with no war. Right in the Heart of Amish country and allergy season.

Y/N sneezed again.

Echo set the tray down on the bedside table, handing Hunter a mug of caf. “Here Sarge.”

Hunter grinned, nodding his thanks.

“And for our host.” Echo cooed, handing Y/N the tea and meds.

“Thanks. You’re an absolute dear, Echo.” Y/N smiled while stifling another sneeze. “These should take the edge off...” Gulping down tea with the meds “Gotta run to the grocery...”

“Yeah, kitchen’s pretty empty.”

Hunter chuckled “Heh, Wrecker’s become quite the cook.” While patting his belly.

His pants had been getting tighter since their arrival to Earth. Y/N introduced Hunter to sweatpants, and he hadn’t worn anything else since.

Crosshair nicknamed Hunter “Sergeant Sweatpants” regarding his new fashion choice.

“Um, I’m gonna need someone to drive me.” Y/N struggled, embarrassed to even have to ask. “This migraine is going to be a DOOZY. I can shop but driving in this condition isn’t SAFE.”

“Well go for you.” Hunter brightened, excited at the notion of getting out of the house.

“Yeah.” Echo chimed in. “That should be an easy mission.”

“Uh...you...sure?” Y/N gave both clones an expression of concern. “Leave your weapons home...ok?”

“Now, don’t you worry.” Hunter stood tall with confidence “We’ll take care of EVERYTHING.”

Wrecker had just finished dusting the living room. Then pulled the vacuum from the front hall closet. Since his large frame wouldn’t fit in Y/N’s Honda Civic, Wrecker would be staying home with Omega...

And the NEW kitten.

Hunter initially didn’t want her to get too attached to anything they may have to leave behind when the Marauder was finally repaired.

But that was BEFORE she ventured next door to play with the Amish children in the barn...

Of COURSE Omega came home with a kitten!

NONE of the brothers could say no to her. Batcher immediately fell in love, letting the kitten sleep curled up with her. Y/N caved when they saw how well “Oddball”, the runt of the litter, fit into their household. An adorable redheaded attention hog, bicolor-eyed tabby (green-blue), with a deformed ear.

“Hunter!” Omega skipped up to him “I found coupons for cat food and kitty litter!”

She dutifully handed Hunter the coupons, shopping lists, and Y/N’s debit card.

He smiled at her. She looked SO HAPPY...

Like a regular child living a life with no war, no bounty hunters, no major stressors.

Hunter felt his eyes get a little misty. It would be AMAZING to stay here...

Enroll Omega in school this fall. The brothers could find jobs, hobbies, branch out and make new friends. He could possibly start dating Y/N....

His heart swelled a bit as he beamed like a goofball.

“Very responsible.” Hunter nodded to the coupons in his hand. “Proud of you, Mega.”

He leaned over, kissing the top of her head.

That’s when Crosshair sidled up to them.

“When was the last time you WASHED those...excuse for pants?” Crosshair nitpicked.

Hunter, unfazed, clapped back. “Probably the last time YOU smiled.”

“OK CHILDREN. LET’S LOAD UP!” Echo joked as he passed them both, opening the front door. “Daylight’s a burnin’.”

“Good luck on your mission, Cadets!” Omega saluted Echo while holding Tiny.

Echo smiled and winked back at Omega.

“BYE!” Wrecker yelled over the vacuum. “MAKE GOOD CHOICES!!!”

“YES MOM!!!” Crosshair yelled back as he pet Batcher on the head, then followed Sergeant Sweatpants out the door

Tech was ready!

He had inspected the older model Honda Civic an hour before any of his brothers walked out the door. Tech dutifully checked the oil, washer fluid, and tire pressure per specifications of the owner's manual located in the glove box.

He adjusted the driver’s seat to perfectly accommodate his “optimal driving experience.”

Then found his favorite radio station for “ambiance” ...

But Crosshair jumped into the back, slithered between the seats, up the center console, touching the dial, and erasing Tech’s settings.

“WHY must you do THAT?” Tech sassed.

“I’m certainly NOT listening to your Classist music.” Cross sassed back.

“It is CLASSICAL music, Crosshair.”

“Whatever...it sucks.”

Echo loaded up in the front passenger seat next to Tech. Hunter sat in the back behind Tech, next to Crosshair.

Hunter covertly pulled the rear passenger lap seatbelt buckle out all the way, laying it RIGHT where Crosshair would be sitting.

Cross settled on the local rock station.

Tech rolled his eyes and sighed.

Echo eyed them both.

Crosshair slid back between the seats sitting down...

“WHATTHEFUCK!” he jumped as his skinny hind end came down on the metal buckle.

Hunter’s low laughter rumbled in the cabin.

“Liked you better exhausted and apathetic.” Crosshair muttered.

Echo turned around to address Tech, Hunter, and Cross in a comically stern manner. “Don’t make me make Tech stop this car.”

“And, if you both cannot refrain from squabbling” Tech also threatened playfully “The trunk is spacious enough to fit one of you inside it.”

“REALLY?” Crosshair smirked. “The Don’t Make Me Separate You line. Know you stole that from the ‘Grumpy Old Men’ movie.”

“That’s like, your opinion, man.” Tech sniffed, adjusting his rear-view mirror to see Hunter making stink face at Crosshair. “Besides, ‘The Hangover’ portrayed a man in the trunk for humor.

“The Big Lebowski!” Echo clapped Tech on the shoulder.

“Frustrated Mom Humor.” Tech countered grinning, nodding back at Echo.

They had both been researching the media and culture of Earth since their arrival. Movies, shows, and commercials played NONSTOP in the living room.

Hunter was relieved he slept in the basement but couldn’t help piling on. “’Goodfellas’ was more the movie I had in mind for you.” He grinned at Crosshair.

“Dweebs” Cross sighed. “Besides...you didn’t bring your knife.”

“Buckle up, shut up, or something.” Hunter deadpanned. “Don’t have ALL day.”

“Hunter is correct.” Tech added. “This vehicle stays parked until ALL the occupants are safely and securely belted in.” He raised a pointer finger into the air. “Remember, Click It or Ticket.”

“Oh dear Maker...” Crosshair whined. “Can’t I just stay home with Wrecker and Omega?”

“NO!!!” Everyone else barked.

The Honda Civic sped...within the speed limit...over the hills on the back roads of Lancaster County’s farm country.

The Batcher’s were absolutely PLEASED with their FIRST successful trip on Earth without Y/N to chaperone.

With Echo as navigator, they found the local grocery, shopped with minimal bickering, and adhered to the list Y/N had given them.

The amount of food for seven people, one dog, and the new kitten filled up the Civic’s trunk to the brim.

There was NO room for the case of Friskies and huge bag of kitty litter. Hunter slid the case of food under his feet on the backseat floor.

The bag of litter sat between Hunter and Crosshair on the back seat. Neither minded as it worked as a divider between the two of them.

It gave Echo some peace, too.

Crosshair lost himself in a new box of toothpicks. Hunter flipped through a recipe magazine he snagged at the register. Tech found a radio station everyone surprisingly agreed upon.

Coasting along AT THE POSTED SPEED LIMIT was pure perfection for Tech...

Much to the consternation of the jacked-up monster truck aggressively creeping up on the Honda Civic’s rear end.

The truck had been following since they turned off the main highway from the grocery store onto the sleepy two-lane road towards home.

Tech clocked them since they started following...closely, then backing off, then coming up the rear of the Civic closely again.

Their total lack of civility and the rules of the road frustrated him.

There was NO logical reason for them to drive in this manner!

Crosshair also covertly watched the truck closely, suspicious of their driver's intent more than driving skills.

Echo napped in the front seat.

Hunter couldn’t be arsed to care. He flipped through recipes imagining Omega and Wrecker’s excitement of their next culinary adventure.

Quite comfortable in his often-worn sweatpants.

Lancaster County is a verdantly green, heavily forested land with rolling hills, and endless farmland. Truly a pleasurable experience to drivers who enjoy taking the quiet and less traveled “Scenic Route”.

For those that are IMPATIENT though...

Two miles was all it took for them to LOSE THEIR SHIT!

The large truck ROARED as it swerved out of their lane into the space of the oncoming one...almost hitting the Civic as it did so.

The passenger and driver of the truck yelled “GET THE FUCK OFF THE ROAD!” Through their open windows.

Crosshair and now Hunter GLARED at them. The yelling awoke Echo who had a less than happy scowl on his face.

Tech was INSENSED by the WRONGNESS of this jacked up monstrosity and its driver crossing over the DOUBLE yellow line into the opposing lane.

He leaned out the window attempting to give them a very much needed infodump lecture on the merits of safe driving.

Oh, the soon to be seen irony...

They LAUGHED at him.

The passenger flipped The Batcher’s the bird, which did really NOTHING as the clones hadn’t caught onto the deep offense that gesture was meant to serve them.

However, he then screamed “FUCK OFF YOU GOGGLED-EYED DUMBASS!”

That did it.

He vowed to GET EVEN.

Tech MASHED down on the accelerator and the little Civic whined, then jumped as it met the truck’s speed, denying it the option to pass and proceed on in the proper lane.

“WHOA!” Echo yelled, holding on for dear life.

Hunter scolded, bracing himself in the backseat. “This isn’t the SAFA TOMA POD RACE, Tech!!!”

Tech only registered Hunter and Echo at the periphery of his senses. He was stubbornly going to resist letting the truck over.

He wouldn’t let them have their way immediately...

Tech intended to have the occupants of the “modified monstrosity” sit in discomfort for a while.

Crosshair silently watched the situation unfold.

The driver’s road rage took over, he swerved perilously close to the Civic, almost hitting it.

Tech didn’t flinch and kept up with the speed of the truck. The Civic’s engine screamed as the needle on the speedometer climbed.

Both vehicles quickly approached a bend in the road.

Hunter began to sense IMPENDING DOOM. “TECH! LET HIM PASS!!!”

“I absolutely REFUSE to yield to an imbecile choosing to ignore the rules of the road!”

“YOU’RE breaking the rules of the road!” Echo boomed.

“HE INSTIGATED THIS ALTERCATION!!!” Tech leaned closer to the steering wheel, assumed his racing position that Echo knew very well from watching the pod race footage...

The hair on Hunter’s neck stood on end. “TEEEEEEECH!!!!”

The truck refused to fall back, then swerved dangerously close again.

Crosshair had enough.

He calmly pushed Hunter’s feet off the cat food, pulled back the plastic packaging, and yanked a can out of the pack.

“WHAT are YOU doing?” Hunter yelled as Crosshair climbed out the window and leaned across the top of the Civic’s roof.

Hunter stretched across the kitty litter bag and grabbed Cross’ leg to steady him.

The truck’s passenger screamed EVERY possible obscenity and slur at Tech in an absolute RAGE.

Crosshair aimed expertly, then LOBBED the can of Friskies at the passenger of the truck, hitting him squarely in the head. It knocked the man unconscious, sending his baseball cap out the window.

The driver instantly regretted he mistook the occupants of the little Honda Civic beater for granted. But he STILL refused to fall back behind it.

Crosshair laughed manically.

Then was YANKED back into the car by Hunter. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!”

Echo had about enough. “BELT IN!!!”

Tech kept up with the truck speed for speed.

Hunter let go of Crosshair, then gripped the back of Tech’s seat...

“IF I DON’T MAKE IT HOME IN ONE PIECE FOR OMEGA...TECH, I SWEAR...!!!

Echo could see Hunter’s FEAR...he was speechless.

Were they all going to die? In his case...AGAIN!

Both truck and Civic reached the bend in the road as a SEMI TRUCK emerged from around it!

Its driver blared the horn.

Echo suddenly found this voice, screaming. “ABORT MISSION! ABORT MISSION!!!”

Crosshair’s voice went into terrified falsetto... ”WHATTHEFUCKTECHLETTHEMTHEFUCKOVERKARKDAMMIT!!!”

Tech SMILED...with INTENSE PLEASURE, leaving the driver of the truck in the oncoming lane with NO escape. Tech SURELY guessed the driver was soiling his pantaloons.

NOBODY fucks with TECH!!!

Room and time were running out for the truck...

But Tech knew there was a tiny window of opportunity for the truck to escape. He had calculated within the next few seconds, he could let off the accelerator, therefore leaving room for the truck to slide in front of them, and avoid impact.

In 3...2...

Echo suddenly slammed his foot down on the brake, locking up the Civic’s wheels.

“NO ECHO!!!” Tech yelled.

The truck lurched in front of the Civic JUST before the semi passed by horn blaring...

And drove away at top speed.

Hunter, Crosshair, and Echo SCREAMED in terror as the Civic slid off the road at top speed, onto the embankment, skidding for what seemed forever

Tech kept calm as the embankment raced by them. He held onto the steering wheel like a trooper...well a CLONE trooper.

In all honesty, in that precise moment, Tech was VERY frustrated with Echo for thwarting HIS plan to allow the truck back into the correct lane.

Tech had the PRECISE moment to do so figured down to the perfect millisecond.

It was almost like... ART.

But EVERYONE in the car FAILED to trust his calculations, therefore he couldn’t HAVE HIS MOMENT...

Then the Civic carrying 3 screaming men and one frustrated contemplative neurodivergent, hit a LARGE rock.

EVERYTHING ground to a VIOLENT halt!!!

Tech was punched in the face suddenly by the driver’s airbag.

Echo’s airbag failed to activate, and he bounced off the dashboard harmlessly with a comical loud CLANG...

But his cybernetics DESTROYED the Civic’s dashboard and cracked the windshield.

Hunter had already braced for impact by holding onto Tech’s seat, relaxing, feet holding down the remaining cans of Friskies for safety's sake.

Crosshair became a human accordion against the back of Echo’s seat. He laughed-screamed...vacillating between the dark humor of the situation and NOT wanting to die...his normal edge lord demeanor totally forgotten.

And THAT bag of kitty litter?

Since it was every clone for himself with nobody holding onto it, the 40lb bag sprang from the backseat and SLAMMED into the ruined dashboard.

Exploding SPECTACULARLY!

TOTAL WHITEOUT!!!

The Civic sat peacefully by the side of the road, front axle broken, totaled and NEVER to be driven again.

The birds chirped.

The spring breeze rustled the green forest leaves.

All was quiet on that lonely Lancaster County Road...

...

Hunter BURST out of the car COATED in white litter dust, choking, and wandering blindly willy-nilly. His senses TOTALLY muted.

Crosshair shakily stumbled out as Echo’s car door swung open...

And he FELL from the passenger’s seat onto the muddy, torn up grass.

Powdery white as ghosts, spitting out litter, and gagging.

And Tech...

The frustration had left him upon impact. His consciousness did too.

Sucker punched by a Honda Civic airbag.

He lay pinned to his seat, looking like a powdered sugar pastry with goggles. He’d be ok. In the past he’d been hit by much bigger and harder stuff in The Wars.

Good thing clones are made tough.

Crosshair and Echo could hear Hunter coughing and gagging on the other side of the car...somewhere. Then a car horn BLARED, breaking the silence.

Cross shot up to his feet, glancing over the Civic, out towards the road.

Hunter stood smack dab in the middle of it cowering...expecting to be mowed down by the oncoming car.

“HEY!” Crosshair shouted, more for help than any scorn.

The driver, a scared elderly woman, stopped just short of Hunter.

She was TERRIFIED by the sight of a powdery man scowling at her.

Hunter’s scowl was from the tremendous sneeze building inside his head. It was followed by what looked like convulsions...

Then Hunter let his TURBO Dad Sneeze go!

It was loud, violent, and purged the dust from his face.

The woman got a look at Hunter’s half face skull tattoo...

AND PEELED out, driving at top speed to get away.

In her opinion, a doped-out gang member with facial tattoos attempted to flag her down on that empty lonely country road while his hoodlum buddies waited in the shadows. The ladies at Bingo night would SURELY clutch their pearls!

Leaving all four clones alone on that quiet, empty country road with NO assistance.

Wrecker sat at the kitchen table wracked with worry. He REFUSED to eat...which for Wrecker means he’s REALLY upset.

His brother’s left at noon. The sun was just starting to set.

Where were they? What happened?? Was everyone ok???

Omega and Y/N sat with Wrecker at the table, attempting to eat.

Oddball was the only one with a hearty appetite as Omega hand fed the kitten bits of her stew.

Flashing lights and the sounds of horses coming down the street roused Wrecker, Omega, and Y/N. They raced to the front door and spilled out onto the porch...

A light Amish buggy pulled by a bay horse was the first to arrive. It’s flashing safety lights illuminated the front yard in strobe effect. Then a larger, heavier open carriage pulled by a two Belgian Draft horse team pulled next to the front curb...

Towing the remains of Y/N’s Honda Civic.

They were SPEECHLESS.

The driver waved in greeting. “Good evening, Y/N.”

“AMOS???”

“That’d be me.” He nodded. “Brought yer people back. Cars not drivable.” Good neighbor Amos nodded towards his brethren. “They wrecked it near Zebadiah's farm.”

“Hello!” Jedidiah waved. “Where should I put it down?”

“OH MY GOD!!!” Y/N put both hands up to their head in dismay. Their brain locked up transfixed by the sight of the damage.

“HUNTER!” Omega ran towards the buggy. “ECHO! TECH...CROSSHAIR!!!

Wrecker stepped down calmly yet cautiously from the porch and addressed Amos “Are they still alive?”

Amos chuckled. “They’re fine, ma’am. Just a bit roughed up...and dusty.”

“Ma’am???”

“Oh...uh...” Amos pointed at Wrecker’s chest.

He had forgotten to take off Y/N’s flowery kitchen apron.

“Assumed you were...” Amos flustered “Well...our ways are a bit...different from yours.”

“OH...”

Hunter tumbled out of the buggy first, dragging Echo with him. Then Crosshair emerged, who CAREFULLY assisted Tech down to the driveway pavement.

They were ALL coated in white dust, which gave them an aged appearance as it settled in all the creases of their skin.

Tech had his goggles pushed up onto his forehead. Both eyes were blackened, and with the white dust and his dusty goggles pushed up...

He looked like a skinny defective panda.

“We’re ok Omega.” Hunter reassured while pulling Echo quickly towards the house. “Gotta clean off his cybernetics and prosthetics ASAP, or he’ll be impaired.”

“I’ve got him.” Omega relieved, eyed Hunter. “You better inform Y/N with what happened.” She then took Echo inside.

Crosshair passed Hunter while dragging Tech along and remarked “I feel SO sorry for YOU.” Cross wasn’t being an ass. He really meant it.

Hunter stood in the flickering light.

He could see Y/N standing on the porch, still in shock.

Hunter gathered himself, then approached Y/N “I’m...SO SORRY.” He grimaced.

“YOU...SAID...’DON’T WORRY WE’LL TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING!” Y/N shouted. “WTF is...THIS???”

Amos and Jedediah glanced at each other uncomfortably, then back at Wrecker...

Who had been silently taking it ALL in.

Y/N continued to use their “Outside Voice” in anger and disbelief. Hunter’s voice could be heard offering hushed and embarrassed appeasement.

Wrecker cleared his throat, then inquired “Where’s the groceries?”

Jedidiah pointed “In the trunk. But you won’t be able to get anything out of there. It's jammed.”

Wrecker casually strolled over to the Honda Civic, grabbed the trunk lid, and ripped it free from the car. Then set it down onto the grass, pulled all the bags from the trunk, lined them up on his strong arms, and carried it all to the house.

Jedediah and Amos stared in silent interest.

Wrecker stopped suddenly and turned around. “Uh...almost forgot. Just leave the car there.” He nodded to the curb. “How much do we owe ya?”

“Nothing, neighbor.” Amos pointed over to the house next door. “My farm’s right there if you need anything else.”

Jedediah blurted “We could use a pair of strong arms for our next Barn Raising...”

Wrecker chuckled. “I’ll take you up on that! Thanks...’night.”

Both men nodded back, then dismounted from their buggies to unhook the Civic.

Wrecker descended the stairs, stopping at the bickering couple.

Y/N and Hunter stopped arguing then faced him.

“Let’s go inside.” Wrecker quietly urged.

Hunter shut the hell up, grabbed one armful of groceries, and stepped into the house.

With a now free arm Wrecker hugged Y/N. “It’s gonna be ok. We’ll figure it out.”

They embraced him, walking inside.

Jedediah turned to Amos and spoke in Pennsylvania Dutch. “The new visitors are rather odd EVEN FOR the English...”

“Yes, Jedediah. I cannot figure them out.” Amos mused. “They DEFINITELY aren’t from around here.”*

(*True Fact: Anyone who has lived in Lancaster County for FOREVER, especially the older families will remark on your newness to the area with some variation of this statement.)

More future installments of this story where The Bad Batch try to fit in on Earth (Lancaster County/Amish Paradise) Forthcoming!!!

Please let me know if you wanted to be added to my taglist or removed! Thanks so much for your support!!!

@arcsimper5

@arctrooper69

@badbatchbeau

@billybatsonmylove

@blueinkblot

@bmarino

@boredzum-671

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@zahmaddog

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skellymom · 3 days ago

Text

Oooh!🖤

GAR Goth Night outtake – Text remembers very well 😎

What happened before 👀

... After that scene, Crosshair and Tahny finally danced together! But clone medic Text doesn't mind to be a distraction 😎

Text: YOU OWE ME ✨❤️‍🔥

Tahny: *gasp*

Crosshair: Kriff off, Reg!

@crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf 🫶 My dearest Nix, I've had this artwork in my drafts for weeks and fought with ever prickly Crosshair, because he didn't want to get drawn that little piece of sh...! I tried his snarky profile so many times and just didn't get either his nose or his mouth! I even tried to give him his toothpick, but eventually I feared that he would only hurt Tahny or himself with it being like that! 👿🔥

And you precious bb drew again one of my Owl Squad boys and it's soooo long overdue that I draw beautiful Tahny! 😱💕 I'm a bit proud of that glossy platinum hair 😎

And I hope that you like it 🤩✨🫶 Thank you so much for drawing my OCs in your gorgeous artstyle, with your beautiful glam vibe and for being my friend! 🥰🌹🥂

Have a close up on the dangerous Owl Squad trooper 😁

And on the lovebirds 🥰

Have another GAR Goth Night artwork dears 🫶 Hope you enjoy 🥰

Taglist: @lezz-agna @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte @spaceyjessa

GAR Goth Night friends and Chaos vode 🖤✨ @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @eclec-tech @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feralferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @gargothnightzine @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @mamuzzy-art @risavulpes @niobiumao3 @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @gars-weaponeer @leenathegreengirl @vodika-vibes @headphones-ct-09978 @bad4amficideas @wyvernsrus

#oh they all look amazing!!#my friends' OCs #Crosshair fanart

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skellymom · 5 days ago

Text

Do you (secretly) pine for Hunter?

Inquiring minds wanna know...🍌😉

Unfair girl. (Get im)

@legacygirlingreen This cover is for you, lol.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

@gars-weaponeer @feralferrule @returnofthepineapple @eobe @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @foxwithadarkside @covert1ntrovert @thecoffeelorian @thora-sniper @skellymom @leapingbadger @loganpine @yiggetyyoot @orangez3st @boredzum-671 @vimse @v4r-jpg @nocturius8015ficore @legacygirlingreen @nika6q @techhasmjolnir @inkybyl @eclec-tech @wings-and-beskargam @leenathegreengirl @cloobies-detector @clonethirstingisreal @ct7567329 @captcaspians-castle

#the bad batch #tbb #sw oc: tah'nyem ra #tbb hunter

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skellymom · 5 days ago

Photo

FYI!

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#reading is fundamental #literature #downloads

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