#Week4

[pandorademos]

"You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen." Cowabunga!

prompt 6!! of @summer-of-bad-batch. Six! Wow!

[kybercrystals94]

Playing around on Procreate produced this extremely rough draft of fanart…decided to make it my “Cadet” fill for Week 4.

Might spruce it up later if I figure out how to properly utilize the app…😅

**let’s pretend Omega has access to tape and flimsi and colored pencils on Kamino**

[neyswxrld]

brighter than a shooting star

Wrecker x fem!reader

summary: While period cramps almost destroy a wonderful evening, Wrecker has a great idea to make it perfect instead.

warnings/vibe: period & cramps, reader has hair (it's mentioned that it's brushed in a sentence), softness, sweetness and some kisses on the cheek for wrecker!

words: ~1410

a/n: hello everyone! i was like, preparing myself for having my period. at the same time i was super sad that no one went to watch the perseids with me. sooo this is the outcome of that situation. also, this of course fits perfectly with the stargazing and the "you really think you're going without me? not going to happen." prompts of @summer-of-bad-batch. i hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

Tonight is a special night.

You've heard it all over the news: There will be shooting stars all over the night sky!

The last time you've seen some of them was several years ago, but you remember it as clearly as it was just yesterday: You and your best friend at that time, sitting in your garden. Blankets around you, keeping you warm from the cold night. You're joking around and talking, while looking up into the sky. And then, here and there, you see some bright lines across the sky.

It was such a beautiful event, and every time you think back to it, you just think about how lovely it was.

It was the first and last time you saw any shooting stars.

Until today.

Tonight is a community night on Pabu, and a few villagers and you decided to settle down at the beach and look at the sky.

Of course, the Batch, and especially Wrecker, are with you.

Since the execution of Order 66 you are practically inseparable. You went through thick and thin: lost Crosshair, met Cid, fought against Cross, made friends, thought you lost Tech, lost Omega, got Tech back, got Crosshair and Omega back, lost Omega another time, and then, finally, got her back for the final last time. And then you settled down on Pabu. Together.

In that time, you also grew closer with Wrecker. Much closer.

So close, that you finally confessed your feelings to him, and he returned them. Still does.

So close, that you indeed are together now, even some years after the fall of Tantiss.

And you love each other like it's the first day.

Surrounded by your loved ones, under the sea of stars, in Wrecker's warm and loving arms, waiting for the shooting stars, it should be the perfect evening.

You've been excited about this day for weeks.

But it just isn't.

You can't believe that a small incident like your period seems to ruin this whole, lovely evening. But it does.

You are uncomfortable, your stomach is aching, you actually feel kind of nauseous and you could run to the toilet every few minutes. Except there isn't a toilet nearby.

In short - you feel horrible and could start crying just at this moment.

"Hey, what's up?" Wrecker asks in this second. Oh, your sweet, attentive boyfriend. Always there when you needed him.

"I don't feel good," you say to him, leaning in a little closer.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asks, but you just shake your head.

"No, it's just my period. I think I need to go home, take a hot shower and just sleep until tomorrow. I think it'll be better then," you whisper, and Wrecker nods.

"Just let me say goodbye to anyone, then we can go, alright?"

"What? No, no worries. I want you to have fun with your brothers tonight," you say, not wanting him to pass out on that.

"You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen," he says playfully and grins at you.

"But I know you were excited about this evening, so you should enjoy it as planned," you try to convince him, but at the same time you're quite relieved that he doesn't want to leave you alone.

"Well, yes! But I was just so excited because you made me excited. I wanted to spend this evening with you, and I still want to," he explains and gets up, taking you with him. You feel like your heart just melts away at his sweet words.

The two of you say goodbye to his brothers and his sister, he packs your small picnic blanket and together you start your slow walk to your shared home.

You put your hand in Wrecker's, start to lean into his side, and put your head onto his shoulder, cumbersome.

"Do you really want to take a nap or would you still like to spend the evening together?" Wrecker asks after some minutes.

There's just the sound of the waves, some animals that are rustling in the bushes, your breathing, and the sound of your steps that echo through the quiet night. You already feel better. It's a lot less input for your exhausted body, and the walking does some good for your abdominal pain.

"If you want to, we can cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie," you suggest and the smile that appears on his face instantly makes you beam back.

"I think I know something better!"

He doesn't elaborate his idea further, but the smug grin that paints his face makes an anticipating, happy shiver run down your spine.

When you finally arrive at home, Wrecker ushers you into the bathroom, and on the way he grabs your pajama, stuffing it into your arms. "I'll come get you, yeah? Don't peek!" he calls after you before stepping out of the room, already making his way downstairs again.

You shake your head and try to make yourself feel better and more comfortable in the bathroom, cleaning your face, brushing your hair and putting on your sleeping clothes.

It takes some time in which you hear him stumbling and rumbling around downstairs. Oh dear, you hoped he wouldn't organize a big chaos down there. But then he finally comes back and knocks on the door.

"Are you ready?" he asks and you can hear his smile through the door.

"Yes!" you say and push down the door handle, revealing Wrecker, also just in his pajama.

"Come with me!" he says and gently takes your hand again, to pull you towards him. 

He guides you through the halls and down the stairs. You expect him to have prepared something in the living room, but it's completely dark inside when you cross it.

But then you take a look outside and you feel how your mouth falls open.

In the trees are small fairy lights, which illuminate the hammock hanging beneath them.

There's a small table pulled up next to said hammock, with bowls with fresh fruit and some not as healthy snacks, and some mugs. You know Wrecker very well, so you're very sure it's hot chocolate.

"Wrecker- What?" you ask, a little overwhelmed by the little cozy corner he created within minutes.

"I know you've been excited about that event. And I hope you're comfortable enough for to still enjoy it like this. Just executed a little... differently," he says, scratching his head a little.

"Oh, Wrecker!" you finally gasp and lay your arms around him, pulling him down to you.

"You're so sweet, Wrecker. You have no idea how much this means to me, thank you so much!" you whisper and kiss his cheek a few times. His scars are a little uneven under your lips, but so, so familiar.

Wrecker laughs and puts his arms around your hips, pulling you against him. "Aww, Mesh'la. Of course!" he exclaims and you feel like loving him just a little more.

The leads you over to the hammock and takes place. There are some soft pillows and even softer blankets, and he wraps one around himself. Then he pulls you onto him and wraps you up just like himself.

He reaches over and carefully grabs one mug to give it to you. You're honestly amazed he doesn't spill anything. When he safely holds his own mug, too, you clink them together, looking into each other's eyes that shine just like the stars above you.

You finally lay down together, his warm body a unique comfort for you. Wrecker turns off the fairy lights, and the stars above you that aren't hid behind the leaves of the tree start to appear in your field of vision.

And suddenly, everything is fine again.

You're here with Wrecker, the love of your life. He's comforting you because sometimes your own body seems to hate you. The stars above you are so pretty, the warm hands around you so loving and assuring, and sometimes that is everything you need to make you feel better.

When you see the first shooting star on this evening, you make a wish for the two of you.

That you will never lose each other.

That you will always be there for each other.

That you will always love each other.

At that moment you feel like it doesn't matter how wonderful the shooting stars are, when the love between you and Wrecker shines even brighter.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

[true--north]

prompt: disguise | even after all these years, she recognised him |

“Prince Hans? What do you do in my Forest?” She is ready to protect her lands and magic.

He slowly turns back. “Milady, I am afraid you are mistaken. Your humble servant is not the said prince.”

@helsaweenfun

[lifblogs]

Blind Side

Week 4

@summer-of-bad-batch

Alt prompt: “You really think you’re going without me? Not going to happen.”

Rating: General Audiences (I hope)

Word Count: 989

Summary: Wrecker is on his first mission since one of his own bombs went off near his head. Crosshair is insistent he doesn’t go alone.

READ ON AO3

“You really think you’re going without me? Not going to happen.”

Wrecker looked up, relieved that Crosshair hadn’t approached from his blind side. The left side of his face was still a mess of bandages, swelling, and bruising. Beneath those bandages lay his new eye, but it was still too close to that particular surgery for the bandages to come off.

Strictly speaking he wasn’t supposed to have been cleared for active duty just yet, but Clone Force 99 had been called in for an assassination job.

Wrecker had just been checking his gear, getting ready to leave for his part. For now it was just him and Crosshair in the Marauder. The others were outside, checking their weapons, going over maps and plans. Hunter had worked with Wrecker separately with his own map, his patience never once wearing thin despite Wrecker’s troubles.

“‘Course I’m going on my own,” he said. “Last I checked you don’t know much about explosives.”

Crosshair chewed on his toothpick. “Hmm.”

Truthfully, Wrecker was anxious. Sure the job was easy. Go in at night, and place explosives. There was nothing to it!

But his head and face ached, his injuries itching under the bandages. And the bomb—

Wrecker squeezed his eyes shut, a flash of light and searing, ruining pain taking over. That had been happening a lot lately—the flashbacks.

There was something else wrong with him too, with his head. He could almost understand, recognized that his thinking was different from what it had been, observed as the others tip-toed around him.

Sometimes he expected to look down and see a child’s body. The incongruence was jarring.

Yet he could still do his job. On his own.

“It’s just a simple mission,” he told Crosshair before frowning, counting his supplies under his breath.

Wrecker lost count and had to start again.

Why couldn’t his head work?

He knew why—having a bomb detonate near your face did a lot of damage—but he should be better than this, shouldn’t he? Wasn’t he before? Half-remembered moments seemed to tell him so.

Crosshair drew closer.

“Do you want me to count them?” he offered.

“No, no. I’ve got it.”

Crosshair gripped his rifle a bit tighter.

“What’s with you anyway?” Wrecker asked.

Crosshair sighed. “I just… don’t want to see you get hurt again,” he admitted.

Wrecker looked at him closely, noticing his rigid stance and the way his fingers were fidgeting, tapping his rifle.

Crosshair had been the one to call in help for Wrecker during that last mission. He’d had to be told this, seeing as his injuries had knocked him out almost immediately. For a moment he was in Crosshair’s place: up high, far away, seeing the bomb go off but unable to give him immediate aid himself.

He imagined that would be pretty scary.

Yet…

“I can do things on my own. I’m not… I’m not a child.”

And yet he felt like one. Not because of the way he was being treated, but because of something different in his head. He’d wake up expecting to be in cadet clothes, expecting to have to get ready for training.

Wrecker didn’t have the words to quite explain it all. Maybe he had possessed them once, but they often got jumbled, confused, and forgotten.

“I know you’re not.”

“Then leave me be,” he growled, heat flushing his face, burning through his wounds.

That was another new thing—the hot irritability, the impatience.

Crosshair shrugged, and went around Wrecker to leave, disappearing through his blind side.

Wrecker turned, holding out a hand, hoping he was still there. He was.

“Wait.”

Crosshair paused.

“You can be my lookout,” Wrecker told him.

“Good. I’ll inform Hunter.”

After he left, Wrecker went back to painstakingly counting his supplies.

By the time he was finished, and looking over the holomap again, Crosshair was back on board.

“You ready?”

Wrecker’s fingers clenched around the strap of his bag, fear stealing his control. His legs felt too light, suddenly, yet he somehow remained standing.

His wounds itched and ached.

Roaring filled his ears, light filled his vision.

Wrecker tried to control his shaking.

He tried to speak, but found his voice was stuck inside him, his throat constricting.

Crosshair didn’t push him, but Wrecker could feel him eyeing his shaking form, taking everything in.

Wrecker cleared his throat, and put the map away. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He just had to face his fear and everything would be fine. He couldn’t very well call himself a demolitions expert if he never touched a bomb again.

Wrecker shouldered his bag, tensing as it swung against him, injured brain using up most of his faculties to imagine each and every single bomb in his arsenal, imagining them detonating.

But then he looked at Crosshair. Crosshair had his back.

Wrecker left the Marauder, stepping out into a cold world and crisp air, the sun setting in a blaze of red. Tan rock and gravel ground beneath his boots.

He waved bye to the others, telling himself he’d see them again, and then he started his climb down to the stone city. Crosshair would take up a position on the northern watchtower, but for now, he was by Wrecker’s side. His silence didn’t bother him. His presence was enough to say that he loved him.

For some reason in Wrecker’s emotionally confused brain, that was enough to have tears trail down his right cheek; the tears from his left eye were surely soaked up by the bandages. That wasn’t good.

Wrecker sniffled, and wiped at his face. Crosshair thankfully pretended to ignore him. Oh, his brother. Where would he be without him?

Dead.

And Wrecker was very much alive.

I can do this. I know I can. Crosshair won’t let anything happen to me.

Still, Wrecker flinched as his supplies smacked against him as he started to climb down. Still, he climbed down anyway.

[summer-of-bad-batch]

Week 4 Prompt Drop!!

Main Prompt: Cadets

Alternate Prompt: "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen."

🥳 Yay! Week 4 is here!! I have loved seeing ALL of the prompt fills -- y'all are awesome! Remember to use the weekly tags and to tag this blog when you post on Tumblr so I can find your fills to reblog! Also, the Ao3 Collection is going strong!

This Week's Tags:

#summerofbadbatch2024 #week4 #cadets #You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen."

[trevaunmichael]

Week 4 Original Content 3/3

What trends am I seeing in the data?

I am seeing multiple trends from the data that I am collecting. One thing goes along with my hypothesis, which is that hashtags do not necessarily drive engagement. I found that my posts with hashtags reach about the same number of non-followers as those without hashtags. I also find that the posts with the most color see more engagement than those with little color. This goes the same for my Instagram posts that include multiple photos and videos vs. a single photo. Unless it is of my dog, which makes sense.

[kenneth26]

Peer Request

For my H2WG I decided to to a slideshow since I think it would be the best format for my intended audience. I am using Youtube for this assignment, so I wanted to keep the color scheme similar and present the information in a way that is fairly entertaining. I will be adding more images and transitions (for text and slides), along with changing the fonts. I am wondering if there is anything I should add to give it that Youtube feel? My slide titles use mostly internet language or look similar to a Youtube video title and I will likely revise my actual text to fit that theme as well. Does anyone have any tips for using internet language in this context? Should I even commit to using internet language or keep it 'professional'?

[imomto3]

OG Content Week 4

2 of 3

Share how you are adapting your writing process to successfully draft this assignment.

            I have adapted my writing process in that I always sat down for hours at a time and tried to finish the entire project. Now, I will work on my writing in parts and focus on one part at a time. I also will work on writing drafts first and editing them over a few days to try to perfect what I am portraying.

[happiestmanga]

Color asissnsngmenet!!!!

Yuuri and Chito are my colors.

Source: Girls' Last Tour

[pandorademos]

still cadets at heart I see...

they reenacted the whole fight scene. The rest of the batch has been watching this go on for 4 minutes.

@summer-of-bad-batch prompt #5

[kybercrystals94]

Stolen Time

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 4 | "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen."

Rated: G | Words: 4,213

Author’s Note: Is this idea unique? Nah. Did I write it anyway? Absolutely I did. *throws another Tech-lives fic into the fandom*

The sensation of falling is not unfamiliar; however, the sensation of helplessness, of utter resignation, of a broken heart…these catch like a sob in Tech’s throat. Mere seconds stretch into an eternity. The devastated expressions of his siblings are seared behind his eyelids when he closes his eyes. He wishes they hadn’t witnessed him fall. It will haunt them, he knows. He never wanted that for them. However, he’d rather that they live with the trauma than die trying to save him. The price of his life for theirs is one he willingly pays. 

He just hopes that the impact kills him instantaneously.

***

He breaks the surface of consciousness with a breathless gasp. When he moves to sit up, a weight on each of his shoulders holds him back. A soothing voice speaks incomprehensibly and close, warm breath on his face. Tech continues to choke down gulps of air, his lungs greedily accepting the panicked doses. 

Words begin to take shape in the voice above him, and he hears his name, spoken so softly and gently that Tech knows that the speaker loves him. But he doesn’t recognize the voice, although his mind feels thick and muddled. Perhaps he simply cannot remember. 

“Easy, Tech, you’re safe. Shhh, you’re safe.” The weight on his shoulders lifts, and a heavier weight folds around him instead. It startles him until he realizes that it is an embrace, arms threaded behind him, pulling him close. “I missed you. We missed you. It’s alright. Shhh.” 

He doesn’t understand why the voice continues to hush him, as if he is making any noise at all. And then he hears it. Feels it. Shuttering sobs, hot tears, trembling limbs. But he doesn’t understand why. 

“Where am I?” he chokes out, “Why can’t I see?” 

“Your vision will come back,” the voice says, now close to his ear, “It’s a side effect of being in stasis. You were there for a long time.” 

Stasis…

“Who are you?” Tech asks next. “Why do I know you?” 

The voice does not answer for a long time, but the embrace holding becomes impossibly tighter. The face against his neck feels wet. “Oh, Tech. It’s me…It’s Omega.” 

“Omega?” Tech’s mind cannot reconcile the little girl of his memories with the woman’s voice speaking now. 

You were there for a long time. 

Years. Lost. Gone.

I missed you. We missed you.

His sister. His brothers. 

“We’re on our way back to Pabu,” Omega says. She pulls back, the weight of her embrace gone from his chest. It leaves an ache in its absence. Before he can despair, hands wrap around his, holding fast. “I haven’t told them that I’m coming…that we’re coming. They wouldn’t believe me unless they saw you with their own eyes.”

“Hunter,” Tech gasps out. “Wrecker?” 

“And Crosshair,” Omega adds. “They’re safe.” 

A knotted pain in his chest loosens, one he hadn’t recognized was there until Omega said the name. They’d found Crosshair. They’d brought him home. This time, Tech knows why he begins to cry, and knows that it is his little sister that gently comforts him. 

***

His vision comes back as Omega said it would; however, his sight remains impaired without his goggles to assist. Omega hands the lenses over, cracked and damaged from his fall, evidently, long ago. He doesn’t put them on. They won’t do much good in their dismal state.

Glancing up at the young woman sitting next to him, Tech experiences a strange and hollow grief. “You look older,” he says. “Much older than I remember you.” 

Omega smiles. “Wait until you see our brothers,” she tells him with a wink. It is meant to be humorous, but it just sends another wave of grief. That is what Tech is afraid of, if he is honest with himself. They will have aged while he has stayed the same. Having matured with them concurrently all his life, the reality that they have carried on without him is disheartening.

“Are they happy?” Tech asks, fingers tracing lightly over the broken glass of his goggles. 

Omega considers the question carefully. “Yes, they are,” she says at last. “They weren’t happy when I joined the Rebellion, but it was a different sort of sadness, I think. I might be older and stronger and wiser, but I’ll always be the little girl from Kamino, won’t I?” Omega chuckles. “Always my little brothers’ kid sister.” 

Tech can appreciate that sentiment. He releases a huffed chuckle. 

“But how are you feeling?” Omega asks. “It must be overwhelming.”

“It is,” Tech agrees. “It does not quite seem real. Like it might be an elaborate hallucination.” 

“If it would help,” Omega says, the edge of her lips quirking into a mischievous grin, “I can pinch you.” 

Tech snorts, rolling his eyes. “That is not necessary. I only said it doesn’t quite seem real.” 

Omega shrugs. “Just putting the offer out there.” 

“You have become quite adept at flying,” Tech says, shifting the subject away from himself. He hasn’t seen more than Omega’s little vessel hurtling through hyperspace, which does not take any sort of talent; however, the comment seems to shift something in Omega’s stance. She looks proud, as though he has just paid her the highest of compliments. 

Perhaps he has. 

Omega leans back in the pilot’s seat. “I hope so. That’s kind of my job now.” 

“Indeed?” 

Omega spends the hours of hyperspace recounting to Tech everything he’s missed. While his sister is animated and entertaining in narrative, it is shared with a subtle detachment. After all, she is sharing her past, her history. He is catching up, trying to understand the circumstances which have shaped the future he has unceremoniously stepped into. 

And while he listens with rapt attention, it also breaks his heart.

***

Omega’s flying skills are fully demonstrated as they approach the familiar island on Pabu. Omega guides her ship toward the base of the island rather than the landing pad at the top. When Tech opens his mouth to ask, Omega answers before he can get a word out. “Oh, you’ll love this, Tech. Watch.” 

With the practiced ease of a veteran pilot, Omega brings them nearly to the surface of the ocean, steering the ship into the gaping mouth of a cavern, neither wings nor fin scraping any sort of stone. Deftly, she activates the landing sequence, bringing the vessel to rest on the floor of the cave.

“Where was this when the Marauder was destroyed?” Tech retorts. 

Omega sighs. “Hindsight is much clearer than foresight,” she says. “In our defense, we were trying to load the ship to flee Pabu at the time.”

Tech is fully aware; however, the sharp sting of loss is still persistent. 

“If we give them a minute, I’m sure they are on their way down from the house,” Omega says, standing and stretching, her spine and shoulders popping loudly in the now silent ship. “Hunter has a radar for incoming ships.”

Tech looks out the viewport. The cavern has been lit up with strategically placed light sources, likely activated by their arrival. The island is already dark, several hours into the night cycle, although the evening is young enough that their brothers would not have gone to bed yet. 

Omega walks back into the main hold and begins shoving items into a leather bag. Tech watches her, feeling unsure what to do with himself. He does not have anything, possession or otherwise. If Omega notices the awkwardness, she does not show it, and merely slings the strap of her bag over her shoulder before lowering the ramp. 

“And there they are,” she says softly, tossing him a grin over her shoulder before she descends the steps two at a time. 

Tech hears them, their voices familiar but strange. More conversational and emotive than he remembers them…with the exception of Wrecker, of course. He sounds exactly the same. They greet Omega cheerfully, questions about her wellbeing and health tangling over one another. Is she being careful? Has she been getting enough sleep? Enough to eat? Resting between missions? Omega patiently answers each one, and Tech can hear an indulgent smile in her voice. 

“You should have told us you were coming home,” Hunter admonishes lightly, with absolutely no heat in his tone. 

“I wanted to surprise you,” Omega says. “Because I found something…someone…and I brought him back just as soon as I could.” 

Tech knows that that is his cue. He inhales a deep breath, but it shudders weakly when he exhales. Stepping into the doorway, he finally sees his brothers. Without the benefit of his goggles, their expressions are smudged to his view, but they go completely still, frozen in place as they stare up at him. To his mind, it has only been a few short hours since he has seen them, and with Crosshair, long months.  

But to his brothers, it has been nearly a lifetime. They have mourned him, honored his memory by living as he hoped they would always be able to live: free and safe. He does not know how they will react to seeing that he is alive, preserved just as they last remembered him. A living, breathing ghost. Time has stopped once again when none of them move. Tech doesn’t know how to set the chrono ticking again.

To his relief, Omega breaks the silence. “We discovered a warehouse containing hundreds of cryo-cycle stasis pods. From the intel we’ve decrypted, it seems that Hemlock kept what he referred to as promising specimens that he thought might be useful in future projects. When Project Necromancer was shut down, the coordinates to the warehouse were lost. We recovered dozens of survivors, Tech being one of them.” 

Although Tech has already heard this news, Omega having shared the details of his rescue as soon as he was coherent enough to comprehend, he hears it anew from the perspective he might have if the roles were reversed.  

He imagines the shock alone is incomprehensible. Painful even.

“You mean he’s been alive all this time?” A voice asks, shattered with jagged edges. “We could have found him…Hemlock might’ve told us…” 

It takes Tech a moment to process that it is Crosshair speaking, his most severe and unyielding brother’s voice bloodied and raw.  

Omega shakes her head. “No. We can’t think like that,” she says firmly. “What matters is that he’s back now. We have our brother back now. Wondering what we might’ve done differently won’t change anything.” Her tone leaves no room for argument.

“I don’t remember anything after my fall on Eriadu,” Tech supplies weakly, stepping down from the ramp. “I…had no awareness until Omega found me.” 

He hopes that the knowledge is a small comfort; however, it seems to have the opposite effect. Tech desperately wishes for the lightheartedness of several minutes prior, when he was still out of view, and Omega’s presence had brought their brothers immense joy. 

But suddenly, the mood shifts again, an unruly tide determined to be unpredictable. Wrecker laughs, the sound reverberating off the uneven cavern walls, echoing back at them. He rushes forward and envelops Tech in a familiar, bone crushing embrace. It entirely dispels the air from Tech’s lungs, and he gasps for breath even as he smiles. 

“We missed you, Techie!” Wrecker tells him, lifting Tech bodily from the ground. 

Tech wheezes out, “I would say the same, but it only feels as though I took a prolonged sleep cycle.” 

“Let him breathe, Wrecker,” Omega says, but she is laughing too, the gentle chide ignored for several more moments before Tech is released to a looser hold, Wrecker’s arm still around him. 

Hunter comes forward next and puts his hands on Tech’s shoulders, dark eyes searching Tech’s face for something Tech doesn’t know. “You haven’t aged a day, have you?” his oldest brother asks. 

“Well, that is the design of the stasis pod,” Tech tells him. 

Hunter laughs and pulls Tech close, his embrace nearly rivaling Wrecker’s in its intensity. “And you haven’t changed at all, my brilliant little brother,” he says softly.  

Tech feels the irritating sensation of moisture gathering in his eyes at the gentle words, but he does not wish to cry in front of his brothers. He has done quite enough of that in front of his sister. 

With some effort and not a little regret, Tech disentangles himself from Wrecker and Hunter’s grasp. There is one brother he has not seen since the destruction of Kamino, has not directly spoken to since he stepped in to draw Wrecker away from Crosshair’s cruelty. 

“Let it go, Wrecker. Crosshair has always been severe and unyielding. It is his nature. You can not change that. He cannot change that.”

“Why are you defending me?” 

“I am not. Understanding you does not mean that I agree with you.”

If Omega’s stories are anything to go by and bear any weight of reliability, it seems that Tech was wrong. Crosshair could change, did change, has changed. Tech wants to see and speak to his returned brother for himself, apologize for not pushing to recover him sooner. 

But when Tech steps around Wrecker and Hunter, and they all turn to where Crosshair had stood, the space is empty, gone like a shadow banished by light. 

***

It takes much convincing, but Tech is finally allowed to search for Crosshair on his own. He suspects that their conversation is better done in private. Omega offers him a few places that their brother might have disappeared to, but Tech is fortunate enough to find Crosshair in the first one. It is a tree house near the top of the island, built by his brothers for Omega and any children who might enjoy it. This late in the night, the little structure is seemingly vacant, but Tech climbs the rungs of the rope ladder anyway. Crosshair sits across from the narrow opening in the floor, back against the short wall, one leg out and one drawn up with his arms crossed and propped on his knee. 

“Hello,” Tech says, pulling himself up and settling himself across from Crosshair. 

Crosshair’s face is turned down, and even if he lifted it, Tech could probably not read his expression in the dim light. “Omega already told you about all of our hiding spots?” Crosshair asks. 

Tech hums, glancing around. “Not all of them, I’m sure. She only gave me a brief summary of the most likely locations.”

“I’m surprised you snuck away,” Crosshair says. “I didn’t think Hunter would let you out of his sight for the next ten standard years.” 

“That is a gross exaggeration,” Tech muses, “and I did not sneak anywhere. I told them I was going, and they let me. You on the other hand…” 

Crosshair makes a scoffing noise. It is so achingly familiar that Tech feels a tight fist of emotion lodge in his throat. It does not take much effort to imagine that this is one of the many times that Tech has sought Crosshair out, sitting with him in the quiet of a supply closet until he was ready to return to the barracks. They had always been able to communicate in silent moments, a steady presence when words were inadequate. 

The silence between them now, however, is stilted and strained. A weight and a distance. 

Tech desperately wants to fill it. Before he fell, when he thought they were going to rescue Crosshair from the Empire, Tech had rehearsed what he might say. But now, against Tech’s will, with years passed, his practiced words have expired. Crosshair has come back, has changed, has grown older in both body and mind. A few months to Tech are now years and memories to Crosshair. 

Tech does not know what to say, does not know what reparations have already been made. What he could add, what he should add, what he should leave to rest. 

He wishes he had asked Omega for more insight rather than a basic history of events. 

To his surprise, it is Crosshair that fills the silence instead. “They told me it was you that first wanted to ignore my warning message.” 

“Only because it was I that found it first,” Tech says. 

“I told you to hide.” 

“We were never ones to follow orders, were we?” Tech asks with a grin. 

“You shouldn’t have died,” Crosshair says, voice thick. 

“And I didn’t,” Tech returns. “Merely an extended absence.” 

Crosshair growls at that. “Merely,” he sneers, but Tech recognizes the grief. It is a reflection of his own. 

“Not merely,” Tech amends. “I do not regret my attempted sacrifice. But since I did not perish, I regret that I have missed growing old with all of you, seeing Omega grow up.” 

“It’s my fault. If I hadn’t…if I had just come with you on Kamino…” Crosshair cuts himself off.

Tech sighs. “Do not try to shoulder the weight of shared blame, Crosshair. We might have all made different decisions with different outcomes. I am sorry we did not try to find you sooner.” 

Crosshair shakes his head, and Tech hears a sharp intake of breath. He is moving before he thinks better of it, sitting next to Crosshair on the rough, wood slat floor. He wraps an arm around Crosshair’s back, drawing him into his side. The former sniper resists at first, leaning away, but Tech takes a metaphorical page from Wrecker’s book and holds fast until Crosshair resigns to be held. 

“I know that I am late to say it; however, it is true nonetheless,” Tech says in a low voice. “I am most relieved you found your way home.” 

“It was Omega’s fault,” Crosshair huffs. He swallows audibly and adds, “She brought you home too.” 

Tech smiles. “She does have an uncanny aptitude for finding things that are lost.” 

“How is it that you can say something profound and make it sound like an understatement?” Crosshair chuckles brokenly. 

“It is one of my many talents,” Tech says. 

They sit for a long time in comfortable silence.

***

Omega announces that she can stay on Pabu for two weeks. What is exploring the island to Tech is reminiscing to his siblings as they share stories and memories associated with every place they go. 

This large rock formation on the west beach is where Crosshair and Hunter taught Omega how to dive. 

This little fishing boat is the one they built together during their first spring on Pabu. 

These tide pools are where they spent nearly every Benduday in the summer. 

This is where they built a sand castle so big that it took the tide nearly a week to smooth it back to nothing. 

This clearing is where they’d go camping to practice Omega’s survival skills. 

This is the street Omega was running down when she fell and broke her arm. 

This is the food stall where they’d get their decanting day treats every year. 

Countless memories excitedly shared. 

And he missed every single one. 

It is the last afternoon before Omega leaves that their brothers return to the house early. They do not say it, but Tech can see that they are tired, their stamina not the same as it was when they were soldiers and younger. So they leave Omega and Tech and Batcher down on the beach, telling them they’ll have fresh caf ready for them when they come home. 

Tech and Omega watch Batcher chase after the moon-yos, the little creatures chattering at the lurca hound as they scamper just out of reach. Omega chuckles sadly, poking at the sand with a piece of driftwood. “She's getting old,” she mutters. “The moon-yos are letting her keep up.” 

“Batcher does not seem to mind,” Tech observes. 

“She doesn’t know any better,” Omega says. “She doesn’t know that time is a thief. Sometimes, I wish I didn’t know either. Just enjoy each and every day without wondering when it will end.” 

That is a somber thought. Tech turns his gaze to the water, waves calmly lapping the shore, unperturbed by the bleak conversation. 

“You will leave tomorrow?” Tech asks. 

Omega nods. “At sunup.” 

Batcher starts barking at something she’s found, leaping and wagging her tail. Omega smiles and pushes herself to her feet, going to see what the beast has discovered. 

Tech knows why his brothers do not join Omega in the Rebellion. They have already fought a war, fought for the life they now have, the peace they’ve now embraced. He discussed it with them late one night after Omega had gone to bed. It was not a decision made lightly, especially Omega leaving to join the Rebellion on her own. Hunter admitted that her ambitions clashing with his fear had led to many heated arguments in the beginning, until Omega tried to slip away into the night without warning. Omega is a warrior, a rescuer, a fighter. She is restless and uneasy until she knows she has done everything in her power to help those in need.

Tech understands her drive deeply. But to watch her leave again, he does not think he can stand it. He’s already lost so much time…

“Perhaps,” Tech says, softly, almost inaudible over the noise of the surf, “I will come with you.” 

Omega doesn’t hear him, but he’s already made up his mind. 

***

Tech wakes before the sun rises, but Omega’s room is already empty. She said her goodbyes last night to each of them, and Tech did not say a word about his plan; however, he had hoped to catch her before she left the house. He does not have much, but he snatches the small bag he packed and bolts out the front door, not as quietly as he would have hoped. The path to the cavern has become familiar enough that even in the dim light of approaching dawn, he finds his way quickly. 

He only slows his pace when he sees his sister ahead of him, just entering the gaping mouth of the cave.

“If you are under the impression that you are going without me, that is not going to happen,” he says as he comes in behind her. 

Omega stops short and her shoulders drop subtly, before she turns to face him, dark eyes weary. “Tech, you belong here, with our brothers. We just got you back…we can’t - we won’t - risk losing you again.” 

“That is not for any of you to decide,” Tech declares. “You have chosen that your path is with the Rebellion, and I have chosen that my path is with my sister. So much of my time has been stolen. I did not see you grow up as our brothers did. I did not help teach you or raise you. I can make up for that now.”

“Tech,” Omega sighs, “You taught me so much–” 

“Please, Omega,” Tech cuts her off. “I have already decided. Do not try to leave me behind, because we both know I can and will find alternate means. It would be much simpler this way.” 

That makes his sister smile, a battle worn grin that looks far too old. “I suppose you’re right about that,” she concedes, shifting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “But what will Hunter say?” 

“He’d probably say don’t take unnecessary risks, and watch out for one another,” Hunter’s voice calls out. 

Tech takes a steadying breath before he faces his brothers who have come in behind them. “Apologies, I did not mean to wake you when I left,” he says.

“If you hadn’t meant to wake us,” Crosshair says with a wry grin, “you wouldn’t have sounded like a herd of stampeding rancors as you ran out the door.” 

“Rancors do not move in herds,” Tech tells him. 

Crosshair groans. “It made my point, didn’t it?”  

“I was trying to catch up to Omega,” Tech explains, “I fully intended on returning to give my farewells before officially departing.” 

“You better have,” Wrecker says, scooping Tech up in his arms. “You keep an eye on little Meg. She’s a crazy pilot. Learned it from you.” 

“It’s called skill,” Omega retorts playfully. “But yes, I did learn it from Tech.” 

Tech wriggles out of Wrecker’s grip in time for Crosshair to sidle up and put a loose arm over Tech’s shoulder. “Make Omega come visit more often,” he says. 

Hunter nods. “And make sure she calls us at least once a week.” 

Omega rolls her eyes. “Guys, Tech’s not coming to be my babysitter. If anything, I’m going to be reminding him we need to call.”

“In that case,” Hunter says, pulling Omega into his arms, “make sure Tech comes and visits his older brothers once in a while, huh?”

Omega leans into him. “Of course. We both will. I promise.” 

It is well past sunup before Tech and Omega board her ship. He waits for her to move to the pilot’s seat, but she hangs back, watching him with a smile. “You wanna get us out of here?” she asks. “Modified this beauty myself…well, Echo helped. But you can let me know how she handles.” 

Tech grins. He does not need to be asked twice. 

END

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[neyswxrld]

just in case

Wrecker (no pairing)

summary: Wrecker has a accident during one of his training modules.

warnings: starving, exhaustion, almost fainting, (almost) drowning

words: ~1780

a/n: hello again! i wrote another fic for @summer-of-bad-batch! this time, it's a bit of a heavier topic. i decided to combine the promts cadets and swimming lessons and kinda took a turn there, since my fics normally contain a lot of fluff. i hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

When Wrecker woke up this morning, he somehow already knew it wouldn't be a good day.

He felt drained and exhausted, even though he just slept.

And he was hungry, oh so hungry!

He didn't know what exactly it was, but since a few weeks, the food portions they got in the mess hall didn't seem to be enough for him. He always felt hungry, even after breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

His brothers seemed to have noticed, since he suddenly was a lot more grumpy and had a smaller energy level at all.

Tech said it could be because he had another growth spurt. His metabolism was higher than theirs. And his muscles needed more energy. So Wrecker really required more food.

So at his last checkup he mentioned as much, but the foreign Kaminoan just looked at him with an emotionless stare and didn't react further.

He didn't know what to do. And that he slowly could start to see his own ribs made him worry even more. He was genuinely scared he would starve to death.

The others gave him some of their food, most of the time. Things they didn't like but knew Wrecker would, or things that were too much for them. But still, it just didn't seem to be enough.

The horrible thing about this particular day was, that they had the swimming module.

Normally, Wrecker was a big fan of the swimming lessons: he liked the water, the cool of it, and he absolutely loved how light he seemed and how he could just float around in the waves.

But this day should be very different.

Before, they trained in quiet waters, in a pool in which he could easily reach the floor if he needed too. This time, they should get a simulation of waves in another pool, that was much deeper than the current one. They learned the basics of swimming, now they needed to test the deeper waters.

The problem was, swimming was exhausting. Even in the normal water. He couldn't imagine how hard it would be with the waves. Especially since he already felt his low energy.

He sighed quietly and pressed his face a little deeper into Lula's ears, which he held against his chest, before getting up slowly.

When he turned around, he instantly met Hunter's worried gaze. "You okay?" he asked, and Wrecker tried to smile, nodding.

"Yeah, jus' tired," he said, walking over to the bathroom.

When all of them were ready, they made their way over to the mess hall. As always, his brothers gave him some of their food. They talked about what they would have to do today, where they would have to be, and Wrecker was more than a little relieved that Hunter would also have the swimming module, at the same time even. So they were together at least.

It made everything just a little less scary.

After breakfast, they went back to their barracks and everyone got ready for their day. Wrecker still felt like something was off, like something bad was going to happen. He just didn't know what. Even though it was a little better after he got some food in his tummy.

He patted Lula goodbye, before walking over to Crosshair, hugging him as always. It was a little ritual between the four of them. Always saying goodbye the right way. Just… Just in case something went wrong during training.

He went over to Tech to do the same, followed by Hunter, even though he knew they would be together later. It was just in case.

Little did he know how close he would come to "just in case" at that day.

When Hunter and Wrecker walked over to the changing room together, Hunter threw worried glances at him here and there. "Are you sure, you're okay?" He finally asked when they were changing into their bath robes, standing alone in a corner, "You're so quiet today."

Wrecker nodded again. "Just really tired. I could sleep another twelve hours. And… just hungry," he said, shrugging. It's not something they could do anything about it.

"Just be careful in the water, okay? Call me if something's wrong immediately, understood?"

Wrecker gave a small smile, "understood."

The water was cold. So cold, he was freezing and shaking. His teeth chattered so hard, it made his vision shake.

The waves were big, huge even, and he wondered where the hell he would ever have to swim in a place like that.

But it seemed to be okay.

At the beginning, at least.

The first few laps were relatively good to swim. But the more he did, the more exhausting and impossible it got.

Normally, he was one of the best of the group, due to his big body, long arms and strength, but today it seemed like everyone was in front of him, overlapping him even.

But he couldn't really care. He just… He was so exhausted. His stomach ached for food, it felt empty and he was so hungry.

His arms were heavy and every swimming stroke he took felt like a battle in itself.

The waves crashed over him and suddenly he was underwater.

When his head breached the surface again, he had just enough time to take another breath before he was swallowed by another wave.

He didn't notice how he barely moved forward and how dangerous the situation was for him at this point.

He was concentrating on taking breaths at the right time, but soon enough he also got an ache at his side. He was breathing weird.

The next time he was gasping for air, a wave hit him in the face. Salty water flooded his mouth and he couldn't suppress a gag reflex.

He started to cough, spitting out the water, trying to stay above the surface, but he was just so exhausted. His arms didn't really move anymore, his head was underwater more often than not, and he just felt so helpless. He hadn't the energy to swim across to the edge of the pool, to hold himself up, and he just kept going down and down.

"Hunter!" he gasped just before another wave hit him, pulling him down.

But this time, he just… He just couldn't pull himself up anymore.

Helpless, he tried to reach for the surface, tried to paddle with his feet. He tried so hard to pull himself up, but it was just like he didn't know how to swim anymore.

The water was so deep, his ears already ached from the pressure, and all he could do was watch the bubbles that left his throat float up.

He was so kriffed. A surge of panic rushed through him, but he just - he just couldn't do anything to help himself.

He tried to get up, so hard, but he was just stuck down here, underwater.

At this moment he was sure it would be over. He was going to die. It was his "just in case" scenario. And even though he was always sure he would go down in a more epic way, for example in an explosion, he couldn't find it in him to be sad, or devastated.

His head got dizzy, he already hadn't enough air to breath and now it just wasn't possible. He tried so hard to fight his breathing reflex, but at some point he felt like he just couldn't.

Just before he was about to give up, he saw a blurry figure breaching the surface, coming closer.

Still, his eyes closed.

When he opened them the next time, he was laying on the cold, wet floor next to the pools, Hunter and a trainer above them with uncertain looks in their eyes. Hunter was panicking, and holding his hand in such a tight grip, his knuckles turned white. But Wrecker didn't really notice the pressure.

He closed his eyes again. He was so exhausted.

He floated around for a while. Sometimes it was dark, and he almost felt like he was in the water again. But in the one that wasn't so deep and full of waves.

Some other times he dreamed about his brothers. Of Crosshair and how he proudly showed him some new tricks he learned with his sniper rifle. About Tech and how he told him something about a new technology for a detonator. And of Hunter and how he tugged him close one night when he suddenly was scared of the loud noises from outside.

When he opened his eyes again, he was blinded by white lights. He groaned weakly and closed them tightly. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand, while the other squeezed the one that was occupied with something… warm?

Another hand, he realized when he heard a light gasp and a relieved call for his name.

"Wrecker!"

"I'm up. What happened?" he groaned and finally opened his eyes. Not only Hunter but also Tech and Crosshair were sitting around his medical cot.

"You almost drowned, buddy," Hunter told him, and Wrecker felt fear rising in him when some memories flooded his mind.

"Oh," he said, not really knowing what else to say. His heart beat so fast, but he chose to ignore it for now.

"I pulled you out. I-I was so scared. I just heard you calling my name, and then I couldn't see you anywhere. I thought I was too late," Hunter swallowed and squeezed his hand back.

"Oh, uh, thank you," he said again. He still felt drained and tired. It laid above him like a heavy blanked but instead of comforting him, it made him feel uncomfortable.

"Your medical records say you're malnourished and too light," Tech suddenly chimed in. "It is very likely that you were too exhausted to continue your swimming lessons because of that. Thus, the medics prescribed you a higher daily calorie income, so your body can keep up," he explained.

Wrecker didn't know what to say. It was just so much. He almost drowned.

He almost died.

"That means you can eat as much as you want from now on," Crosshair said this time, a mischievous smirk appearing on his lips. "That means you can bring me extra dessert, too!"

Wrecker blinked, but slowly started to smile, too.

More food sounded good. Extra desserts even better.

"That's good," he murmured again, still feeling tired. He absolutely needed to sleep, he needed to realize what happened, and he needed to realize that even though he almost died, it looks like he wouldn't have to be hungry anymore. That really was good.

"You look tired. Maybe you should take another nap," Hunter suggested softly.

Wrecker nodded. Yeah, that sounded great.

"We're still here, when you wake up," Crosshair promised and reached out to pat his head.

That sounded even better.

It didn't take long for Wrecker to drift off again, and fall into a recovering, comfortable dream.

The next time they were at the mess hall, he loaded his plate unbelievably full. And even though it was way too much in the end, it was the first time since a long time that he didn't went to sleep hungry.

TAGLIST

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

[tsukarysgrimoire]

A summer of vacation, chapter 3

I'm very late, I know, that chapter took me forever to figure out, and then tried to fight me at every turns, but I finally won the war. XD

WEEK 4 : "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen." With a little bit of "Cadets" if you squint. XD

Something is wrong, Omega knew it. She needs to find what is going on, what her brothers are trying to hide from her.

Enjoy. ^^

[jwesdesign]

Thursday Check-in Post Week 4

What questions do you have about data-driven web writing that you would like me to answer?

I’m struggling with how to effectively incorporate charts and graphs into my essay. Is there a right or wrong way to present data in a multimodal essay?  @npfannen I want to ensure that my visuals enhance my analysis rather than distract from it. Should they be embedded within the text, or formatted in a specific way? I haven’t done many multimodal essays before, so I’d love some guidance on best practices for formatting, placement, and labeling data visuals. Any tips would be greatly appreciated!

[fratexo]

Thursday Check-In 2/12

what questions do you have from the readings that I can answer to help your success in this class? Working with data is new - ask about data. Working with viewable data is likely new - ask about viewable data and conclusions that can be drawn.

At the bottom of the data analysis practice project draft it says “You need to write an analysis of the 5 accounts” Does that mean we use five posts we collected to specifically analyze? Should we be focusing on the 10 post we already collected?

“Include the raw data chart at the end, not in the text Is the raw data chart the one we created last week of the 10 posts?

“Each paper should include a revised audience analysis, integrated as part of the analysts supported by the data.” How do we go about revising our audience analysis? Do we go more in depth about the audience analysis by specifically referencing graphs proving what was said?

“Each paper should analyze the data, then build multiparagraph discussion laying out the analysis” Does this mean in our drafts we analize each graph/data indiviudally, then combine all the data and further explain it?

@npfannen