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stellarbit · 5 months

Text

Confess

3k words NSFW Echoxreader

Someone requested some Echo smut and so I gave it a shot.

You catch Echo off guard and he has to deal with his feelings for you.

Laid up in the dimly lit corner of Cid's parlor, Echo grumbled under his breath as AZI-3 performed a body scan. Flanking him were you and his brothers, forming a protective semicircle. Omega, always eager to be involved, stood near Echo’s head, her eyes darting between you and the rest of the Batch as you all did a bit of bickering.

Chuckling, you lowered yourself into a bedside chair, “Wrecker, when are you going to learn to keep your eyes up.”

The burly clone rolled his eyes and head in the same exasperated expression. “I do keep ‘em up!”

“Considering you nearly made all of us fall, I’d say you didn’t this time.” Tech drolled.

At the mention of the fall, Echo gingerly touched the swelling bump on his head, a reminder of the chaos when Wrecker lost his grip climbing a cable to the Marauder, resulting in both of them plummeting twenty feet to the ground. Your voices were gradually sharpening the dull ache in his head.

A streak of red on Echo’s hand caught your eye. A tear in his glove exposed a cut you hadn’t noticed at first glance. As Tech and Wrecker continued their argument, oblivious to the new development, you reached out and gently grasped Echo's wrist.

“Echo.” You said warily, as you pulled his injured hand closer for a better look. He kept his eyes shut, already knowing what you were about to say.

"Just a scratch, nothing to worry about," he murmured dismissively, trying to withdraw his hand, preferring to ignore the injury than address it in front of everyone.

You kept a firm grip on his hand, the pressure pushing a fresh drop of blood to the surface. Before he pulled away again, you took his bleeding finger into your mouth. The feel of your mouth around his gloved finger sent Echo lurching to attention. He was so caught off guard that he smashed his head straight into AZI.

At the same time Echo shoved away AZI and snatched his hand back. His sudden outburst had you reaching for him again, at least to stabilize him, but he had already scrambled up from his prone position, his eyes wide with shock. "What are you doing?" he blurted out, still wincing from the collision.

You opened your mouth to explain, but Echo cut you off, raising his hand to halt your words. He glanced down at his hand, then back at you, his cheeks coloring slightly.

Echo noticed the questioning look on your face and quickly averted his eyes. His voice carried a biting edge as he stammered, "I-It’s not clean."

Like every clone you’d ever met, Echo was a terrible liar.

You were about to respond when Hunter intervened, patting Echo on the shoulder with a light-hearted remark. "Glad to see you're okay." This gave Echo the perfect opportunity to divert attention from the awkward moment.

As AZI began to relay the results of his scan, your gaze lingered on Echo. You leaned back, puzzled by his intense reaction. During your time together, Echo had never before recoiled from such a simple touch. Well except once.

Echo soon walked off with his brothers, his attention drifting as he replayed the moment you had taken his gloved finger into your mouth. The warmth that spread through him was something he thought the Techno Union's modifications had stolen for good. For the most part, his duties as a soldier kept him from thinking about it.

When the Batch reunited with you after Order 66, Echo knew he was feeling what you had when he was lost at the Citadel. His feelings only became more reoccurring.

He would be lying if he said he’d never thought back to the singular night the two of you used each other as a distraction. For Echo, it wasn’t just a distraction, you were so much more to him. You saw him as more than a number and he saw you for the soul you were beyond a Jedi. Fearless, proud, and beautiful. But he also saw you for what you were, a Jedi bound by selflessness.

Before Skako Minor, during a night spent in a medbay. Echo had been severely injured and, late that night you snuck in to see him. The weight of almost losing him overwhelmed you, and comfort turned into an embrace that quickly heated into staying the night wrapped around each other.

In the gray light of dawn, and under the threat of being discovered, you had mutually decided to confine that intimacy to just one night. However, Echo found himself frequently revisiting that decision. The memory of how you looked beneath him, the feel of your body pressed against his—these thoughts had been his companions through many lonely nights on the battlefield.

The warmth your mouth stoked in him spread, reminiscent of the heat from a kiss—his mouth on yours and then not just his fingers.

To be exact, the warmth of your mouth felt like it was around his cock. Even though your lips had touched him only briefly, his world narrowed to nothing but the memory of you.

A part of him felt undeserving and ashamed. You loyally spent years beside him, followed him to join the Bad Batch, and saw him as your most trusted friend. He wondered what you’d think if you knew what had transpired in him.

As the evening faded and days passed, you watched Echo, noting the careful neutrality he maintained in his interactions. He brushed off the incident as if it were nothing, but you weren’t fooled. You remembered too well the last time he had reacted like this.

After the night you spent exploring each other, the next time you whispered close to him, he had jumped as if blasted in the ass. He'd stammered some feeble excuse before quickly excusing himself. This time, though, you were determined not to let history repeat itself without a proper resolution.

This time you weren’t letting him off so easily. The war was over. You were no Jedi and he was not bound by his role of a soldier.

You were kind enough to wait until you got him alone to push him. A few days after the incident, you finally noticed Echo heading towards the Marauder by himself. You made no attempts at hiding your presence, in fact you sing-songed his name on sight. When the only response was a soft chuckle and an “Over here,” you continued towards Echo.

He sat at the navigational screens, only turning slightly as you neared him. You smiled and leaned down, positioning yourself to look over his left shoulder for a shared view of the screens. The unexpected rush of emotions—loud heartbeats and butterflies—surprised you.

Before second thoughts could hold you back, you reached out and gently touched his shoulder, your hand trailing down his arm until it rested over his. "Echo," you whispered softly.

At your touch, his back straightened. You angled your face close to his, maintaining the contact. You kept your hand over his until he finally turned to look at you, his expression a mixture of caution and curiosity. His head still faced forward as you delicately laced your fingers through his.

He reared his head and looked at you full on, his pale hazel eyes wide. Maintaining eye contact you picked up his hand in yours and pulled his glove off with your other. A light pink mark running up his forefinger was all that was left of his gash.

You turned his hand over, inspecting the healing mark, then looked back to him. Echo swallowed and you couldn’t help doing the same.

"I’m glad to see it’s healing," you commented softly, your thumb tracing the faint line. "Looks clean, too."

"What are you doing?" Echo's voice was tense, a sharp contrast to his usual composure.

At the same time, you asked, "What happened when I touched your hand the other day?"

Echo’s grip on your hand tightened, pulling you a fraction closer, almost as if he was challenging you. "You didn’t just touch me," he said, a hint of accusation in his tone.

You blinked at him, not suppressing your there it is smile. “What did I do then, Echo?”

His usual straightforwardness faltered, making this avoidance all the more telling. He sighed and his grip loosened slightly. "Please, just let it go," he pleaded, trying to pull away.

But you were quick to act, gliding your tongue along the length of his finger, a bold move that turned his hand rigid in yours. You ended with a soft kiss pressed to his lips, cherishing the contact and the rush of emotions it brought.

It took a bit of courage for you to meet his eyes again, lips still on his finger.

His eyes were shut, lips pressed tight, and heat scorched his cheeks. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was suffering. The thought made you panic.

Feeling suddenly foolish, crouched before him with just the simple kiss of his hand, you realized the irony of the situation. You had been far more intimate before, yet now, in this small gesture, you felt incredibly vulnerable. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you kissed his skin again, softly whispering an apology.

“It made me think of you,” Echo's voice broke through the silence, a choked and hurried confession as his eyes fluttered open to briefly plead with the unknown before settling intensely on you. “When you licked my cut,” he continued with a heavy sigh, surrendering to the moment, “it made me think of our night in the medbay.”

That night had only been spoken of maybe twice over the years. During the war, you both had buried any thoughts of what could have been without the conflict. Because, without the war, you wouldn’t have Echo. But that hadn’t stopped you from recalling the things he whispered to you, or from clinging to the memory of how he felt during lonely nights.

Gently, you rolled his hand over to press his palm against your cheek, turning to kiss his touch tenderly. “Is that a bad thing?”

Echo leaned closer, his prosthetic arm pressing lightly against your shoulder, grounding the moment with its weight. “Of course not,” he replied sternly, his voice softening. “It’s just—”

“Because I like the idea of you remembering,” you interjected before he could voice his doubts.

His hesitation wavered as he searched your face, looking for something that might tell him this was real—that it was okay to feel this way. Finally, a gentle smile broke through his stoic facade, and he whispered back, "So do I."

Smiling into his skin you stuck your tongue out and licked him again. “And this?” You said between kisses.

His eyes fluttered at the sensation. “It doesn’t feel like that’s my finger.”

The sight of him, relaxing back and a smile on him made you pounce. You took two of his fingers into your mouth this time and he took a sharp breath as he watched his fingers disappear past your lips. Echo felt you hum and a shudder ran through him.

Echo withdrew his hand, leaned forward, and scooped you up by your arms. He effortlessly lifted you, pressing you against the control panel of the Marauder. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he leaned in, his face hovering inches from yours, his gaze dropping to your lips

Overcome by the moment, you instinctively pulled your legs over his hips, drawing him closer. His hand moved quickly, silencing the beeping controls and sealing the hatch with a soft click, ensuring privacy.

"Careful," you whispered, your voice a playful taunt, even though you were completely alone. "Your training is showing, trooper."

Echo's response was a low chuckle, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. "Say my name, please," he requested, his voice thick with emotion, turning the moment into a deeply personal plea rather than a mere flirtation.

You whined out a yes and said, “Echo.” Before pressing your lips to his. You felt him groan softly, his tension melting away as he leaned into the kiss with ease. His tongue sought yours without hesitation, initiating a deep, earnest exploration rather than a wild rush. Each moment was about savoring the taste and feel of one another, deepening the connection that had been simmering between you for so long.

Echo eventually pulled back slightly, his nose brushing against yours in a tender gesture. "I think I've known since the moment we met," he confessed softly, his breath mingling with yours.

Your one hand slid up to his face, gently kissing, “And what is ‘this’ exactly?”

Echo responded by capturing your bottom lip gently with his before he released it to murmur, "That I’d fall in love with you."

The words resonated deeply, sending a shockwave through your entire being. Every cell seemed to freeze, the significance of his admission striking a profound chord within you. On a reflex, you pulled back, creating a small space between you as you placed your hands on his shoulders to gently push him away.

Echo’s expression quickly changed to alarmed as he blinked at you, eyebrows raised. When he started asking what was wrong, your hands fell to your pelvis with fingers quickly working at your pants.

His breath hitched as he realized what was going on and made enough space for you to pull your legs back and wiggle out of your pants. Your pants hadn’t hit the ground and he’d already pulled at his own clothes enough to expose himself fully to you.

Neither of you broke eye contact as you nestled back together. A smile and hum bubbled from you when you felt him glide over you.

Echo, leaning on his hand for support, choked out a curse when he felt you drip over him. Using your legs as leverage around him, you slid against him before positioning yourself at the head of his cock.

With your hands cradling the sides of his face, your thumbs gently stroking his cheeks, you looked as if you may plead for your life. In a way you were.

“Say it again,” you whispered, your voice a blend of demand and desperation.

Echo responded to the urgency in your voice, his actions mirroring the intensity of his emotions. As he closed the distance between you, joining your bodies slowly and thoroughly, the air seemed to thicken with anticipation. Though it felt like both of you could barely breathe, Echo's voice emerged clear and warm, filled with unwavering conviction.

"The moment I laid eyes on you, I fell in love with you," he confessed again, each word deliberate and heartfelt,

The words themself sent a thrill through you, they hit you so hard you swore you could’ve came. You bit back a moan and he responded by pulling out a few inches and steadily pushing into you. He picked up a rhythm and his metallic arm steadied you against him.

Your hands held onto his shoulders for support as you pulled him into a kiss. Your body felt like it was thrumming, every move he made pulled a noise from you in some way as you came undone for him.

“Echo.” His name was a panicked plea.

"Yes?" He replied, his forehead resting against yours, both of you sharing quick, shallow breaths in the intimate space.

Your eyebrows drew together, your fingers tightening on his shoulders as the words spilled from you, heavy and raw. "I’m so in love with you."

It was Echo this time that stilled, his sudden stop left him throbbing inside you.“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever met.” He said in awe of you. It felt like he released something deep inside him by allowing himself to say that. His eyes squeezed shut as another shudder ran through him. He let out a controlled breath. “I’m about to-”

It was you who now moved below him with quick, small thrusts, “If you love me, do it inside.”

Echo dropped his hand to your hip and rammed himself fully inside you in one last thrust. The entire time he’d been inside you he had been stretching you, but him fully sheathed and pressing deep inside you was the point of no return. You writhed against him and contracted around him.

“A-Are you?” Was all he could manage when he felt another sudden wave of pleasure.

“Uh-huh,” was all you could utter through the thrill of your orgasm. Knowing you were cumming for him, on him, made Echo move against you again, throbbing and filling you again to the point his cum finally spilled out of you.

Your foreheads touched, still caught in each other’s close orbit, and for a few moments ou simply breathed in unison, the storm of emotions settling into a calm. Echo looked into your eyes, his gaze steady and clear.

“That was a long time coming,” Echo said, his voice low and sincere. There was a hint of wonder, as if he was still processing the reality of the moment. The quiet between you was comfortable as you started pulling yourselves together.

As Echo buckled his gear back up he said in a teasing tone, “So, should we schedule our next confession for a few years from now or just surprise each other like today?”

Your laughter rang out. “Maybe without so many life-or-death settings.”

Echo’s eyes met yours again, reflecting a shared happiness and a forward-looking optimism. It was clear that whatever the future held, you would face it together, with no hesitations and no barriers between you.

#the bad batch #tbb #star wars #bad batch #the bad batch echo #the bad batch x reader #echo x reader #tbb echo x reader #tbb reader insert #echo x you #tbb echo

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bring-backup-99 · 5 months

Text

They Will Not See

Read on AO3

Am I in a bad way about Season 3 and the finale? Yes.

PAIRING: tech x fem reader

SUMMARY: You spend a sweet, unexpected night in bed with Tech.

WORDS COUNT: 1274

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV

NOTES: This is installment eighteen of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, but I think it’s also a sweet, intimate stand-alone Tech story. And I do love Tech losing a little of his control, especially since he’s kind of Dom in the series.

Although it’s written in second person, my heroine has a very established relationship with the Batch.

Tech watches you sleep. This is a recent development.

Usually, he would disentangle himself and leave the bed as soon as you drifted off, staying that long only because he knows you enjoy not falling asleep alone. He has spent his entire life sleeping in close proximity to one or more people, so he understands the general idea that this might be comforting. Tech can fall asleep anywhere, under almost any conditions. He has never accidentally fallen asleep, at least not since he was a cadet, but, when circumstances allow, he can just pass out. He overheard someone on an extended mission refer to him as the king of the power nap, which he took as a compliment.

You have always rested on Tech in casual moments; physical contact clearly being one of the ways you show affection. Touch has never been important to Tech. He has never had the need to show anyone affection or have it shown to him. In his life, he has categorized touch as negative or neutral. The addition of sex as physical intimacy has expanded the categories slightly. The touch associated with sex is usually positive. He certainly enjoys the physical sensations he experiences during sexual activities, and he understands that touch pre- and post- said activities is something you need, but it was not something he previously thought about for himself.

With the regular addition of multiple partners to your intimate activities, and their own needs for your attention, the idle time you spend with him has diminished, and, to his surprise, he misses that. He also finds that when he returns to the bedroom and sees you sleeping intertwined with someone, there is an unfamiliar feeling present. He wouldn’t call it jealousy, because he has never previously experienced that emotion, but he might acknowledge that it could be adjacent to that on an emotional spectrum.

So, he watches you, considering, then he puts down his datapad and stays next to you, your head resting on his shoulder. After a few minutes, your body fully turns and presses to him, your arm on his chest. He decides this is not a neutral touch and recategorizes it as positive, and then he falls asleep.

You are dreaming. Tech is kissing your neck, and his hand is cradling your head. He’s whispering soft words to you as he nuzzles your ear. You don’t understand what he is saying, but you can tell that the words are sweet.

For a moment, you feel bad; this must be Wrecker or maybe Hunter, but you refuse to wake up, instead basking in the gentle touch of someone who rarely touches you gently. You don’t remember either of them being there, but Tech doesn’t stay in bed with you.

Dream Tech kisses you, pressing his lips to yours before you open your mouth to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You hear your name whispered with such a tone that your whole body shivers.

A knee nudges between your legs, parting them slightly, and then another spreads you open, and his body is flush to your own. A strong arm nestles to one side of your head, and you finally open your eyes, ready to let the dream go, to stop this nighttime lover before it goes too far. But it’s still Tech above you, his eyes partly closed, and you feel an unexpected excitement and warmth course through your body. You pull his face down to yours to kiss him more, your fingertips running through his short hair, against the strap that keeps his goggles a permanent part of his face, like Wrecker’s scar and Hunter and Crosshair’s tattoos.

As he begins to slide into you, you softly cry out his name into his ear. He stops for a moment, as if confused, and you wonder if he thought he was dreaming as well. At least it was your name he called out. His eyes are fully open now, looking at you. You smile and tip your hips up to encourage him to continue. Another moment passes and then he is buried inside you.

He’s moving slowly, almost hesitant. It’s been a long time since someone was in your bed who could initiate the dreamy fun of middle-of-the-night sex, and maybe Tech has never done this at all, considering he rarely even falls asleep in your bed. Would he have slept in others’?

But it feels so good. So nice. So satisfying. His body is against yours, his strokes long and careful, and when he fills you, he presses in just a little more, and you murmur at the pleasure of it. You could do this all night, whispering encouragement in his ear, telling him how you never want this to stop, how good it feels. You squeeze yourself around his cock, gratified to hear him make a small sound of satisfaction, moving your hips to meet him. Your arms wrap around him, feeling those strong muscles in his back, feeling his ass tighten as he pushes into you.

He’s different, his breath catching more right now than when he is pounding into you. He hooks your leg over his arm, finding an angle to be deeper into you. He stays like this, rolling his hips against you as you moan in ecstasy.

Eventually, he has to stop, holding himself still as he tries to control himself, but you can tell he’s close. You move under him, tightening around him in tantalizing pulses, pressing him into you, not letting him collect himself enough to halt his body.

“Wait,” he whispers to you. “I will finish too soon.”

“No,” you answer. “I want you to come.” You keep moving against him, feeling his resolve giving way.

“But you…you have not…”

“It’s okay. This feels so good. I don’t want to change it. Come in me like this.” And you want him to lose a little of his usual control. He looks into your eyes before giving in.

His pace picks up slightly, as you push against him, your fingers raking along his back, your teeth finding his shoulder. His lips are to yours, muffling his moan as he starts to come, pumping inside of you.

You cry out in shared bliss, holding him tight, your legs wrapped around his, riding every wave, until his face is nuzzled against your own, his breaths against your neck.

You lie on his chest, his arm around you. You thought he’d fall right back to sleep, but you can feel the wakefulness in his body. You stroke your fingers against his chest, then absentmindedly lick his nipple.

“Mmph,” he groans in surprise, catching your hand in his. He turns his head slightly to you. “I feel that I have left a task incomplete.”

“Tech,” you laugh. “I’m not an item on a checklist…or are you concerned about your perfect record?” He rolls his eyes, but you can tell you’re partly correct. “Do I seem any less satisfied to you than at other times?” He has no response. “Then leave it…Or leave it til morning. Let me just enjoy this.” You feel his body relax slightly in acquiescence.

Yes, you want to soak this up. A few hours of soft Tech, with sex no less intense or satisfying because he wasn’t rough with you – with his strong, naked body against you, and his attention not diverted by his datapad. You don’t want to fall asleep yet, but slowly his warmth and steady breathing lull your eyes to close.

In the morning, he ticks off that final box on his checklist before he leaves.

The rest of the series can be found here.

Warning: It gets kinky.

#Tech lives #tech smut #tech x you #tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech #tech bad batch #tech #clone trooper tech #tech the bad batch #bad batch tech #smutty fanfiction #spicy tech #tech fanfiction #the bad batch tech x reader #the bad batch tech #Let tech fuck

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vodika-vibes · 8 months

Note

May I please get a Tech x Jedi!Reader with a glimpse before and after Order 66. Techs POV where after figuring out that the jedi are being hunted becomes worried. Im thinking White Clover and Pansy and maybe angst/fluff? :>

ps i love your work and i cant wait to read anything you make, youre amazing :3

A Promise Made

Summary: You and Tech, before Order 66 and after.

Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 2983

Warning: Angst, Reader survived Order 66 and has totally understandable trauma regarding that

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I'm still not sure if I'm writing Tech well, but I haven't got any complaints.

“Is there a reason you are laying on me?” Tech asks as he looks down at the Jedi sprawled across his lap, her gaze locked on the datapad in her hand.

“I don’t get to spend nearly enough time with you, and this is the best way to keep you from accidentally ignoring me.” She replies lightly, “Why? Are you uncomfortable?”

“No. I am just concerned that you might get hurt.” Tech answers easily.

“So be careful and you won’t hurt me.”

He rolls his eyes expressively, though because she’s not looking at him, she doesn’t notice. “What are you working on, cyare?”

“Master Windu asked me to reverse engineer a Seppie weapon, and I’m starting to think that this weapon was designed by an actual child.” She says with a sigh as she drops her datapad and presses her forehead against his thigh.

Tech smiles at the back of her head, “Would you like me to take a look?”

At that she laughs and rolls over so that her head is resting on his lap and she’s looking up at him, “I know you have better things to do, Tech.”

He sets his own project to the side, and gently brushes her hair out of her face, “I do not mind putting it aside to help you.”

She reaches up and presses her hands against his, lightly rubbing her cheek against his gloved hand. “That’s because you’re amazing.” She praises, “But it’s okay, Tech. I can figure it out. I always do.”

Tech smiles at her adoringly.

When he was a cadet on Kamino, he believed that this kind of happiness was beyond him. He did not understand why his brothers, including his batchmates, were so laser focused on finding someone to spend their time with. He thought that it was little more than a distraction.

That was until he met her.

She had been brought to Kamino at the request of General Ti, and the first time Tech saw her, he didn’t think she was a Jedi. He thought she was a natborn who had been tasked with maintenance of the various vehicles stored on Kamino.

She was clever and quick witted, and while his twin claimed that she wasn’t going to win any beauty pageants, on account of the fact that she tended to have oil on her face and staining her hands, and she didn’t seem to care about things like appearance, Tech thought that she was stunning.

They developed a quick friendship, bonding over their mutual love of technology.

Tech honestly had no idea that she was a Jedi at all, not until he saw her dressed up in Jedi robes rather than her normal grease covered jumpsuit, and talking to General Ti like it was her right.

The conversation that happened after that isn’t one that Tech is proud of. He had been hurt that she hid such an important part of her from him, and he lashed out. She was offended that he thought that she was hiding it, claiming that she never hid anything from anyone, and that it wasn’t her fault that he didn’t know that she was a jedi.

The disagreement turned into a full blown argument, and Tech didn’t talk to her for over two months. It took Hunter and Crosshair teaming up to make him see that he was being bull-headed and stubborn, and it was the encouragement of Wrecker that forced him to go to her and apologize.

At the time, he had been worried that she was going to hold a grudge, but she didn’t. Instead she just smiled and laughed, and told him that she forgave him, and then she showed him what she was working on.

Soon after that, Tech realized that he was thinking about her all the time. When he was in training, when he was reading, even when he was about to go to sleep; her smile, the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs, the way she pushes her hand through her hair when she’s contemplating something complicated-

He found himself looking forward to spending time with her, even if they’re just working in the same room.

It was Crosshair who pointed out the obvious, with a roll of his eyes as he flipped through a magazine. “You’re obviously in love with her, dumbass.” He drawled without looking up from the glossy pages of the blaster magazine that he got from somewhere, “It’s a perfect match, you’re both annoying little shits.”

Tech wanted to argue with him, partly because he feels the urge to argue with his twin about everything, but he found the words turning to ash on his tongue. Because, annoyingly, he was right.

Tech was in love.

He became awkward and nervous around her, babbling about random things that he learned, and through it all, she watched him with a small smile, and often asked questions about his latest hyperfixation.

And then, late one night, she kissed him.

A gentle press of her lips against his. It was innocent and chaste, and yet it sent fire through his veins. She didn’t say anything after the kiss, she just watched him and waited, seeming to understand that Tech would need a moment to process.

And then he kissed her, and suddenly he understood exactly why his brothers desire this so much.

“Tech?” He snaps back to the present at the worried call of his name, and he glances down at her face, “There you are. You were lightyears away.” She teases.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Oh? Nice things, I hope.”

He laughs, “I always think about you, cyare. You occupy my thoughts at all times.”

“Well, that sounds annoying.”

“Not at all,” Tech lightly guides her until she’s sitting up and he presses a series of light kisses to her cheek and across her jaw, “I find that it is the most enjoyable part of my day.”

“Well, you’re easy to please, aren’t you?” She teases as she leans into his affection.

“My brothers tell me that I am very hard to please, actually.”

“Well, they’re not me.” She turns her head and kisses him quickly, “So you know, you’re constantly in my thoughts too.”

Tech laughs softly and presses a series of light kisses across her face, “I am glad.”

She grins at him, and shifts to sit on his lap, her hands coming up to cup his face, “Tech, I…” She pauses, and her gaze flickers to the side, “I want you to know that I have to return to Coruscant for a couple of weeks. I would like it if you commed me?”

Tech has a feeling that that’s not what she was going to say, but he lets it go, “Of course I will. So much that you will get tired of me.”

She laughs, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“You never know,” Tech kisses her one more time, “When do you leave?”

“Two days.”

“Well then, we had better spend that time together.”

It has been three weeks and four days since the day that the Clones turned on the Jedi. And somehow, you’re still alive. Which, in and of itself, is a damned miracle.

You press your hand over your side, a slow hiss of pain escaping your lips as you move the wrong way and the hole in your side twinges painfully.

When the clones marched on the workshop, you had been in the back, working on one of the protocol droids. You managed to escape while the older jedi tried to fend off the soldiers, but you still took a blaster bolt to the side.

Not to mention, you’re still reeling from the loss of your friends, your family.

You push the pain into the force, and take a moment to tighten the bandages around your side, before you continue your trek. It’s not safe for you anywhere.

And as much as you want to comm Tech and beg him to come and help you…you know that you better not. Tech is a clone after all. And if he pulled a blaster on you, you’d probably just let him kill you, honestly.

No. It’s safer this way.

Though, the galaxy is a much lonelier place now.

Time passes quickly, when you’re on the run. And before you know it, 6 months have passed.

You’re…surviving as best you can, all things considered. You managed to find a medic who treated your blaster wound in exchange for some simple maintenance work, and you managed to earn employment on a cargo ship.

Though, really, you mostly just bounce from ship to ship, from planet to planet, as much as you can. You don’t stay in the same place for longer than a few weeks, fearing that the empire will find you.

You take comfort from the memory of your family, and from Tech. You cling to those memories, as they’re the only thing that keep you going. And sometimes, at night, you allow your mind to linger on Tech, on what could have been.

It’s easier now, though.

After six months, you no longer feel like the Empire is breathing down your neck, and for all you know, you’ve been reported dead. You don’t dare to look, fearing that if you look and you weren’t, then the Empire will start looking for you.

It doesn’t make any sense, you know that, but it’s an anxiety that you can’t seem to shake.

“Hey, Kid!” You jump as the ship captain, your current employer, claps your shoulder with a heavy hand, “Me an’ the boys are going to the bar. Wanna join us?”

“Ah…no thank you. Trying to stay sober,” You say with an easy smile, “You guys have fun.”

“Right, sorry kid. I forgot. You keep up that sobrarity! We’re rooting for you.”

You smile at him, feeling momentarily guilty. Your story, the one that you’ve been using since the purge, is that you’re a recovering alcoholic, and that’s why you want to work on ships, to avoid temptation.

It’s not true. But it keeps people from hounding you to go drinking with them. And, more than one of the people you’ve worked with over the past few months have bemoaned your “parents” for not helping you with your addictions.

It’s almost like having a family again.

Almost.

You step off the cramped ship into the cool evening air, wanting to stretch your legs for a bit, when you hear a familiar voice and feel a familiar presence in the force.

“Hey, that person might know!” You’d recognize Wrecker’s force presence even if you were doped up on force suppressors, and the child standing next to him has the same overall feel as all of the chones.

Your blood runs cold. Wrecker will recognize you. How could he not?

He approaches you, and your mind goes blank. Your fingers twitch towards your lightsaber, hidden in your sleeve. You don’t want to hurt Wrecker. But you will if you have to.

“Excuse me, miss?” The child stops in front of you, and you look down at her. Blonde hair, wide brown eyes…she’s a clone, no doubt about it. “Me and my brother are looking for a specific shop-”

“I…I’m sorry, I’ve never been here before.” You keep your voice low, in the hopes that Wrecker won’t hear you. But you know there’s not a chance of it, not with how close he is to you.

Surprise flashes across his face, followed by joy, “It’s you! Tech has been worried sick! We all have-” He takes a step towards you, and you scramble backwards, grabbing your saber and lighting it with the comforting snap.

“Stop! Just…just stop.” You sputter, “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.”

Wrecker stops, “Right. Okay.” He pulls Omega back, “No one’s going to hurt you.”

“Sure.”

Wrecker slowly sends a message to his brothers, and then holds his hands out, showing that he’s unarmed.

Tech, Hunter, and Echo run up only moments later, and Hunter has to grab Tech from running over to you.

“It is just us, cyare.” Tech says, pulling himself away from Hunter, “We are not going to hurt you.”

Your lightsaber is crossed across your body defensively, and slowly you reach out to the force, looking for the, arguably, most dangerous member of the CF99 at the moment. “Where’s Crosshair?” You ask.

“He is…not here.” Tech says quietly.

“You expect me to believe that your own twin isn’t here, I’m not that dumb, Tech.”

“He…” Tech falters, “Listen, his chip activated, ours didn’t. So when we defected, he didn’t.”

“What chips? What are you talking about?” You demand, and their faces fall.

“You…don’t know.” Hunter says quietly, “Stars, you must have thought we turned on you for no reason-”

“It would be nice to know what crime my people committed to deserve to be slaughtered down to the smallest baby, yes.” You bite out.

“It wasn’t…there…” Echo trails off and he takes a deep breath, “Tech, you need to talk to her. Just, tell her the truth. All of it. She’s a jedi, she’ll know if you’re lying.”

Tech nods, and he steps in front of his brothers, his gaze locked on you, “I am going to tell you everything that I know,” He says quietly, and then he starts talking.

And slowly, as he explains, you lower your saber and then turn it off. And by the time Tech finishes his story, you’re sitting on a small crate with your face in your hands. “My people were slaughtered by your brothers because Palpatine stole their free will from them?”

“Yes.”

Both of your hands fist in your hair, “...’m sorry for drawing my saber on you.”

Tension drains from the men standing across from you, and the next thing you know, Tech’s hands are on your shoulders, “It is okay. You had every right to be concerned.” He kneels in front of you, “Are you injured?”

“I was shot at the temple, but that was months ago.” You say quietly.

“And…you are alright?”

“No.” You whisper, “It’s a very lonely galaxy, Tech.”

Tech raises himself enough to press a kiss to your forehead, “You do not have to be alone. You can travel with us. Right, Hunter?”

“Of course.” Hunter replies immediately.

“See.”

“That’s kind of you, but I know your ship isn’t that big.”

“With the both of us, we can retrofit.” Tech offers, “We can make room for all of us.” He takes your hands in his, “Please do not leave.”

“You won’t be safe if I travel with you. I’m a Jedi.”

“We are not safe anyway.” Tech points out, “Please, cyare? I promise that we will be safer together.”

You sigh, and very gently squeeze his hands, “Yeah, okay. The crew that I’m a part of now won’t be surprised if I decide to leave without warning.”

“Truely?”

“I have something of a reputation.” You reply dryly.

“...it has been 6 months.” You shrug, and allow Tech to tug you to your feet, before he wraps you in a tight hug. “I feared you were dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tech’s gaze lingers on her as she dozes in his bunk, his fingers are tangled in her hair as he silently offers her comfort.

She doesn’t look healthy.

She’s too thin, her clothes hang off of her, and the circles under her eyes are dark enough that it looks like she has bruises around her eyes. She hasn’t been eating properly, obviously, and Tech wonders if it’s because of grief or fear.

And there’s no way he’s ever going to forget the look in her eyes when she saw them again. Dread, fear, terror-

He never wanted her to look at him like that again.

Tech smooths his hand down her spine, and carefully adjusts the blanket so it’s tucked under her chin.

He knew the moment that the regs turned on General Billaba, that his cyare was in danger. The dread had been like a lead weight in his stomach. And while he would have spoken to Crosshair about it, he could tell that there was something wrong with his twin.

Not to mention, Crosshair had never been her biggest fan in the first place.

So he bit his tongue, and kept an eye on the list of deceased Jedi, and he hoped.

It wasn’t very logical.

But the longer he didn’t see her name, the longer he had hope that she was still alive.

She shifts in his bed, rolling over to press her face against his thigh, and Tech presses his hand against the back of her head. The Marauder really isn’t big enough to add another adult, so she’s going to have to share with him for the time being.

Which isn’t half as much of a problem as he’s making it out to be, nothing would make him happier than waking up with her in his arms, but the last thing he wants is for her to forget where she is and freak out.

Luckily, the dread he felt when he heard about the jedi being hunted has faded into something much easier to handle, now he just has the sinking dread of having to help her deal with the trauma of surviving a massacre.

Easy.

Tech glances down at his datapad, and settles back against his pillow as he starts to read on how to help people process trauma.

If he can’t get his cyare to a mind healer, then he’ll just have to become one himself.

Tech glances at her one more time as her fingers curl in the soft material of his pajama bottoms, and he smiles at her sleeping face. He gently brushes some hair out of her face, “I promise,” He whispers, “I am going to take care of you.”

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes follower celebration #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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robby-bobby-tommy · 1 year

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It's once again a nighttime and I'm once again here with scene/character analysis.

As it's prominent from the last few post I'm a quite Ultra Magnus enjoyer, and I'm very upset at how people see him as heartless nerd. I see him as a person very damaged by the war. So here's some of my thoughts.

Ultra Magnus has a great problems with fitting in, because he forgot how to be in this kind of relationship and it's just depressing. For at least a century he has been in a war that took all his time for friends and especially family. And part of me thinks it is because Ultra Magnus is used to communication with orders. In "Evolution" we can see how he really tries to start a conversation, but all he knows now is orders and missions. And the next problem with him is he doesn't belong. He doesn't know what a family is, Wheeljack sends very clear messages that he is not welcomed to the Wreckers. Magnus felt completely isolated and this inability to make deeper connections than commander-soldier doesn't let him comprehend familial relationships. And I have some proofs.

The most important one is this line.

"The members of team prime are not cogs in a machine."

Why would Optimus use this particular line? It felt very meaningful and even as a non-english speaker, I felt it was very important for Ultra Magnus' character. So I went to Internet for the answer and I found this..

This one line opened a lot abt my boy. UM considers himself and team Prime through this war prism. "You are important,but we know how war is. Everyone can't survive. Sometimes you have to sacrifice something for a better outcome. Magnus doesn't think he's better than the rest of Team Prime, quite contrary, he holds himself by the same standards. I think Ultra Magnus sees himself as this metaphorical cog in a machine. He is important now, but if he isn't important in great scheme of things. This sounds like a very army type of mentality. He's prepared to die for a mission and sees little value in himself apart from weaponry and missions. So when Predaking had him and Wheeljack cornered he accepted it fairly quickly, yet was saddened with a thought of joining the allspark, especially with Wheeljack, whom he is to protect as his subordinate.

After Ultra Magnus wakes up, he's met with a lot of pleasant developments. Now he is fully accepted, Team Prime is by his side, and even Wheeljack drops this very meaningful line "Magnus fought like a wrecker"(=you're accepted in our group). And after finally asking OP about what was a Team Prime, he found out about a new concept, that basically breaks all his perceptions.

Family.

It isn't the army, or the elite guard where you are easily replaceable and aren't important. Now Ultra Magnus is family. And, forgive me for cliché, but you can't replace a family. They all are accepting each other and won't willingy leave someone behind for a brighter future.

I think if Ultra Magnus had more screen time his arc would be about relearning to care/connect in a deeper way and finding your own and others' importance, showcasing hardships of a soldier, trying to become more relaxed and closer to a people he knows and loves.

Or mb I just overanalyze one line¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(Also UM and OP have this so sweet bond. Former is, being as socially awkward as he is, still being honest about his feelings and asking smt he doesn't understand. And Optimus completely trusts his lieutenant with the team family and is able to see when the other's uncomfortable/sad. I dunno, they're so brothers/friends. They're very close without having much interactions on screen.)

#transformers #tfp #transformers prime #maccadam #maccadams #ultra magnus #tfp ultra magnus #optimus prime #tfp optimus prime #team prime #wheeljack #tfp wheeljack #character analysis #???? i guess.#he's one of my favorites so be prepared for me analyzing him to hell and back

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miss-musings · 3 months

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"And We're Not Done Yet": How Omega Also Needed Crosshair in The Bad Batch Season 3

Both during and in the weeks after "The Bad Batch" Season 3 aired, a lot of people talked about how much Omega helped Crosshair grow and change during Season 3 (and the show in general).

I'm certainly one of those people, but I thought it might be time to talk about just how much Omega needed Crosshair in Season 3 as well. I know he generally supported her like his brothers did throughout the show, but let's focus on how she specifically and uniquely needed him throughout S3.

(NOTE: I already posted this as a thread on my Twitter — @catchingclassic. So, sorry for any repetition across platforms. But, if you already saw the Twitter thread, I am going to expand on a few points, because Tumblr is more conducive to that.)

So, let's talk about how Crosshair and their special bond helped Omega in "The Bad Batch" Season 3:

Initial Imprisonment on Tantiss

Let's go chronologically and start with our characters' five- or six-month imprisonment on Tantiss.

While Omega is a prisoner at the base, she basically only has four individuals she has neutral to positive interactions with on a daily basis: Nala Se, Emerie, Batcher and Crosshair.

While she spends the most time with Emerie and does seem to develop some bond with her -- as we find out from Emerie's comments in 3.14 -- she also doesn't fully trust Emerie. If she did, she would've clued Emerie into her escape plans in 3.03.

But, Crosshair is someone she KNEW she could trust.

Crosshair was essentially Omega's only comfort during her imprisonment (other than Batcher, I guess). She'd just lost Tech and been separated from Hunter, Wrecker and Echo. She clearly needed someone to support her mentally/emotionally.

We only see two conversations between them in 3.01, and in the first one, he doesn't offer her much in the way of comfort. But in the second one, it's clear that Crosshair is trying to keep Omega focused on escaping, even if it's without him.

Look, I'm not saying Crosshair's demeanor was great. I wish we could've seen him offering her more comfort and support (and maybe he did off-screen).

But, at minimum, she continued to interact with him on a regular basis and seemed to tell him all sorts of details about her day, her plans to escape, etc. And, again, Crosshair encouraged her as best as he could:

Crosshair: What is your primary objective? Omega: Escape. Crosshair: Then stop wasting time on lost causes. Forget the hound, forget me, and complete the mission.

In early 3.01, he doesn't believe escape is possible. But, by late 3.01, he's apparently realized that Omega does have a good chance of escaping, if she plays her cards right, so he's trying to keep her focused.

And, he's actually right. Omega could've left with Batcher at the end of 3.01, but as I'll talk about shortly, that wouldn't have gone very well.

I've been showing TBB to my sister and we recently started S3. She was surprised by the five-month time jump in 3.01 and by just how much Omega had changed. She'd lost hope. She'd become almost complacent about her new life on Tantiss. She doesn't acknowledge Crosshair in the hallway. She doesn't demand to leave anymore. She's just accepted this is her life now, to some degree.

Omega definitely still had some fight left in her, as we see when Batcher is threatened, but five months on Tantiss clearly diminished so much of the stubbornly optimistic person she used to be. She also seemed to tunnel-vision on Batcher and Crosshair, and so that's why Crosshair has to remind her exactly what her objective is.

Again, we don't get to see much of it, but it's clear that Crosshair was basically Omega's only real support system on Tantiss. She might've had some positive interactions with Nala Se and/or Emerie off-screen (although that doesn't seem likely), but Crosshair seemed to be the only person encouraging her and helping her toward an escape attempt.

Speaking of...

Escaping Tantiss, Round 1

Omega absolutely needed Crosshair's help to escape Tantiss, especially on the day and at the time she did.

Let's say she took Crosshair's words to heart and left with Batcher at the end of 3.01:

She's outside the base with no weapon and no datapad. Even if she happens to remember the abandoned shuttle, she has no way to find it other than just blindly running around the jungle.

(EDIT/UPDATE: I forgot the droid K9-X1 also had a datapad Omega could’ve taken after she used it to open Batcher’s chute in 3.01. Not sure if it had the same capabilities as Nala Se’s datapad, but I would guess so. The droid also had an electro baton she could’ve taken. Not exactly a blaster but it’d be better than nothing. 🤷‍♀️)

And, while Batcher would be some help against the jungle creatures, one lurca hound isn't going to do much.

It would probably take a while, but I’m sure the lurca hounds and/or the stormtroopers would find her. And even if she remembers Plan 72 herself, now she doesn't have another person (or a weapon) to help her execute it.

But, in 3.03, once she gets Crosshair out of the cell, he gives her the second blaster. Now, they're both armed. They get outside, and he suggests they "follow the flight path" to find the crashed shuttle. He also watches her back the whole time they're in the jungle, and when the stormtroopers find them, he suggests Plan 72 and acts as a distraction while she steals the shuttle.

I also love that moment when she seems to give up, but Crosshair doesn’t let her:

Crosshair: You got us this far, and we’re not done yet.

One small detail I appreciate: if you look really closely at his facial expression when she apologizes, he really goes 😟 to hear that Omega of all people has given up hope that they’ll actually escape.

In any case, Omega, Crosshair and even Batcher all needed to be there to escape Tantiss as they did. And even then, they probably wouldn't have gotten away safely without Emerie bringing Hemlock Omega's results to have him call off the V-Wings.

Navigating Lau

Once the group crash-lands on Lau, Crosshair proves crucial to their escape efforts there. We always focus on her contributions, but don't really talk about his.

Omega probably would've been at the crash site all day, freezing and trying to fix the shuttle, if Crosshair hadn't prompted her to leave. He locates the spaceport, and says they need to move before they're discovered.

Once there, he reassures Omega that the stormtroopers are a standard patrol presence and tells her they can't contact Hunter and Wrecker because the Empire monitors long-range comms. He then comes up with the plan to try to sneak about one of the shuttles at the spaceport, but it's too well-guarded.

This is where Omega then takes the lead: she tries to bribe the spaceport employee and then decides to get money by hustling people at the cantina.

The whole time, though, Crosshair is watching her back and tries to stand up for her against the Imperial officer and the street kid.

And, despite how much he dislikes it, he does follow Omega to the cargo docks and helps her free Batcher. During the shootout, he fights the troopers while she steals the ship. Just like on Tantiss, they wouldn't have gotten out of there without working together.

Finally, as they head to reunite with Hunter and Wrecker, Crosshair tries to prepare her for the possibility that they might not be there. We know he's wrong, but he was still looking out for her (even if it was probably just him projecting).

Crosshair's Knowledge of the Empire and Tantiss

Just like on Lau, Crosshair's knowledge about the Empire and its procedures, etc. proves crucial in TBB's larger fight against Tantiss.

Once he and Omega reunite with everyone in 3.05, Crosshair helps by sharing what information he does have (although it does take him a while because of his trauma).

He takes TBB to Barton IV to decrypt the datapad in 3.05; he tells Rex & co. about the CX operatives in 3.06; he volunteers to take on CX-2 twice in 3.07; and he initiates the plan to break Rampart out of prison in 3.12.

Obviously, I don't like that Crosshair stayed with the Empire and left his family in 1.16. But the unspoken truth is that, without Crosshair staying in the Empire as long as he did, TBB probably never would've found Tantiss.

It was so well-guarded that the only way they could've found it was to track a ship already going there, like CX-2's Dagger in 3.11 or the science vessel in 3.13.

Also, while Omega wasn't there, Crosshair's knowledge of Tantiss and the surrounding jungle was crucial to TBB infiltrating the base in 3.14 and 3.15 -- even though the CX operatives beat their asses and take them prisoner anyway.

We'll circle back to Tantiss, Round 2 later, but for now, let's refocus on mid-Season 3:

Recovering from Tantiss

Let's talk about Omega needing Crosshair during their downtime on Pabu.

While the show focuses on Crosshair recovering from his trauma, Omega was traumatized by her imprisonment too. And Crosshair is the only one who knows firsthand just how bad it was for her.

Her day-to-day routine on Tantiss clearly wasn't as brutal as his, but she was still separated from her family for months.

As she tells Emerie in 3.03, it reminded her of being trapped on Kamino; and as we know from Season 1, that's where Omega was initially traumatized.

In mid-Season 3, she's so focused on going back for the other clone prisoners, but it's clear from several looks and remarks in 3.05 and 3.06 that she's still processing everything that happened to her there.

Throughout Season 3, we get several scenes of Crosshair being worried about her, checking on her and trying to keep her safe. We also get at least two scenes where he affirms just how bad Omega's suffering was:

Emerie in 3.03: "You should go back to your room." Crosshair: "You mean her CELL."

This exchange was short, but I love that Crosshair refused to let Emerie gaslight Omega. (I know Emerie was essentially a prisoner too, so her gaslighting wasn't exactly intentional, but that's a story for another time.)

We also get The Argument in 3.05 where Crosshair holds Hunter accountable, albeit in a very mean-spirited way:

Crosshair: You let Omega be taken to Tantiss. She went through what she did because YOU failed. You're angry because she escaped with MY help, not yours.

Admittedly we don't get to see it, but I wouldn't be surprised if Omega's recap of her imprisonment in 3.05 glossed over just how bad it was for her.

Again, Crosshair knew firsthand just how much she suffered. So, he tries to look out for her as best as he can, whether that's physically or emotionally. (Admittedly, we could've gotten more scenes of this, but the show is focused more on Crosshair's post-Tantiss recovery rather than Omega's.)

In 3.08, Omega's focused on helping Crosshair start his healing journey. I'm sure it proved to be a decent distraction while inadvertently helping her start processing her own trauma too.

I mean, at the end of the episode, they're meditating TOGETHER. It's not like she showed him how to do it and then just watched him or walked away.

It might have been inadvertent, but by helping him heal, I also think Omega was starting her own healing journey too.

Family, Reconciliation and Hope

Another recurring thread in mid-Season 3 (and even into the finale) is how Crosshair's journey reaffirms Omega's belief in the power of love, hope and family.

We know from Season 1 that Omega always wanted to save Crosshair and bring him back to their family. Even though he leaves them willingly in 1.16, she still cared about him and in 2.15, she and the others pushed Hunter to do whatever necessary to save Crosshair.

But, especially after losing Tech in 2.16, I can imagine just how important saving Crosshair and restoring him to their family was for her.

As she says in 2.16 when Hemlock captures Hunter and Wrecker:

Omega: I already lost Tech. I'm not gonna lose them too.

From the way she pushes Crosshair to talk to Hunter at the beginning of 3.05, it's clear she's invested in seeing the brothers reconcile. And, based on her expression when she sees Wrecker hugging his brothers at the end of the episode, it must've been so comforting for her after everything she and their family went through -- especially losing Tech.

Additionally, throughout the show, Omega has always tried to believe in people's goodness, and appeal to their kindness and compassion.

With Cid (and others), she's proven wrong, and they ultimately take advantage of her.

But, Crosshair proved she's right to believe people CAN change -- that they can reject the darkness and choose light.

When the group is debating whether to let Omega train with Ventress in 3.09, Omega uses Crosshair as her prime example that "people can change" and that she's not naïve for wanting to give Ventress a chance despite her past crimes.

I think she ultimately learned that there's a balance: that yes, some people like Cid will take advantage of you; but that there are others like Crosshair and Ventress who are trying to be better and will come through for you if given the chance.

(ADDITION: While it took her a long time to come around, Emerie also ultimately makes the right decision to turn against Hemlock/the Empire and help free the Tantiss prisoners. Maybe after reuniting with Emerie in 3.12, Omega hoped her sister would come to her senses and help/join her, just like Crosshair did. I can’t say for certain, but it’s a thought.)

Returning to Tantiss

In 3.11, when the Empire attacks and invades Pabu, Omega feels guilty for seeing the island full of refugees suffer because of her.

She straight-up says as much to Hunter and Crosshair. And while Hunter tries to emphasize that it's not her fault, based on what she tells Crosshair later in the episode, she still feels guilty:

Omega: Look at what they've already done. I can't let the people here suffer more because of me.

And, in 3.12, when Crosshair justifies letting Omega surrender herself, he affirms her sacrifice for the people of Pabu:

Crosshair: The Empire would've destroyed this whole town. She stopped them.

You can argue that Crosshair made a bad decision by letting Omega surrender, but I personally feel like they had no choice, especially if they wanted to minimize the suffering on Pabu. They couldn't hide; they couldn't fight; and they tried to run but failed.

I've wondered before if Hunter had been in Crosshair's shoes in 3.11, whether he would've let Omega go. I honestly don't know if he would've. Crosshair himself was so reluctant, and I imagine Hunter would've been just as bad or worse.

We've all talked before about how much Crosshair was afraid of going back to Tantiss, but we tend to overlook Omega's fear because of how brave and determined she is in 3.11. When CX-2 is taking her back to Tantiss, the way Omega breathes when she's on the ship is reminiscent of meditation breathing. I imagine she was trying to collect herself before facing Tantiss again.

I think she was afraid to go back, but she was more concerned about the people of Pabu and the prisoners on Tantiss, so she was trying to make the best of a bad situation.

But, despite all her fears and his own, Crosshair supported her decision and then tried his best to track her ship. And while he ultimately failed, I'm sure the thought that he was there for her -- physically and emotionally watching her back -- helped Omega make that choice and face it as bravely as she could.

(ADDITION: Right before she boards CX-2’s ship, there’s a moment where she turns around and looks back at Pabu. Was she looking for Crosshair specifically, or Hunter or someone else familiar, or just looking back in general? I’m not sure.)

Escaping Tantiss, Round 2 (AKA The Shot)

So, Crosshair helps his brothers infiltrate Tantiss.

They get captured by the CX operatives and taken to the training room/CX lab. Echo, Omega and the clone prisoners work together to fight the CX operatives and save TBB.

After Crosshair saves Hunter from CX-2, he affirms he's going with Hunter to find and save Omega.

It's honestly a really good thing he did, because without Crosshair on that bridge, that scene plays out very differently.

Hunter probably could've taken out CX-2's Dagger and Scorch by himself, but with Hemlock holding Omega at gunpoint, I think Hunter might've actually put his blaster down when Hemlock threatened her.

It'd be in-character for him, as he surrendered when Hemlock's commandos had Wrecker at gunpoint in 2.16. Admittedly, he was vastly outnumbered, which is a big factor. But, if Hunter is on that bridge by himself, he and Hemlock are basically in a standoff.

With Crosshair with him, though, the brothers have Hemlock outnumbered and outgunned. If Hemlock managed to shoot one of them, the other would take him down.

Additionally, either of them might’ve backed down if they had to navigate that situation alone. But together, they have each other for support. They're greater than the sum of their parts after all.

So, Hemlock has Omega at gunpoint and is using her as a human shield. The brothers take a knee on the bridge, and Hemlock decides to take Omega over to the edge, so if the brothers manage to shoot him, he and Omega will both fall to their deaths.

Omega signals them. Hunter catches it, but Crosshair apparently doesn't. So, Hunter tells him what to do.

And now we come to The Shot:

Let's say Hunter is out there alone and the scene plays out the exact same way. Omega signals him, he sees it, and she stabs Hemlock in the leg and lifts the binders so he can shoot them.

Could Hunter have made that shot?

Obviously, it's a TV show set in a science-fantasy universe. So, there's always a chance. Plus, Hunter is definitely a better shot than the average person, and in a high-stakes situation like that, I'm sure the adrenaline and his love for Omega would help (just as it does for Crosshair in-canon).

But, based on everything we've seen of Hunter's shooting abilities in the show, I'm going to say: No, he probably wouldn't have.

In 2.09, Tech shoots the vial of ipsium instead of Hunter or Wrecker because:

Tech: If the shot is not precise, it'll cause another cave-in.

If Hunter was a better shot than Tech, Tech would've had him take it. But, Tech was the best of the three, so he did it.

And, Crosshair -- as a sniper -- was the best shot in Clone Force 99. I mean, that was his whole thing. He’s a sharpshooter.

I know that Crosshair has basically everything stacked against him, and he still managed to do it. But, Hunter would've been facing many of the same disadvantages -- injuries; lighting and weather conditions; the distance, size and speed of the target, etc. And based on everything we've seen in the series, Hunter is a worse shot than Crosshair.

If Hunter knew he could make that shot himself, I think he would've taken it knowing Crosshair was missing his shooting hand. And, if Hunter only thought there was a chance he'd make it, he clearly didn't want to risk it. He deferred to Crosshair, because he knew Crosshair was the better shot of the two of them, even with all the disadvantages they were facing.

No, it HAD to be Crosshair.

As I said, Crosshair needed to be there for Hunter and Omega.

He helped Hunter take out the Dagger and Scorch; he supported Hunter as Omega was being held at gunpoint and Hemlock told them to surrender; and he made The Shot to free Omega and then helped Hunter turn Hemlock into Swiss cheese.

That was the only way the three of them could've done it -- together.

Final Thoughts

Ultimately, as much as we understandably love to talk about Crosshair needing Omega to grow and change, Omega needed Crosshair too.

After losing Tech, she wanted so badly to escape with Crosshair and return to TBB so they could all be a family again.

He gave her support and encouragement during her darkest days.

He looked out for her as she processed her traumas and never let others diminish her suffering.

He supported her decision to protect Pabu by surrendering herself, despite her fears and his own.

He showed her that change was possible and that healing is a journey -- one they started together.

And then he helped his brothers rescue her and the others from Tantiss, and ultimately saved her life.

Plus, as we hear about in the epilogue, Crosshair helped his brothers raise Omega for ~10 happy years on Pabu.

Omega needed Crosshair in Season 3 just as much as he needed her.

She needed ALL five of her brothers/dads to become the kind and capable person we meet in the epilogue.

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earthstellar · 9 months

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Miko and Holding a Grudge: Storytime is Learning Time

I was thinking about how in the final episode of TFP, Miko uses the "I'm going to beat your ass" armour to punch Knockout clean across the face

Miko punches him so quickly and efficiently that I genuinely could not get a screenshot of the impact moment. lmao

And there are a lot of good reasons for her to want to slap this twink into the stratosphere, but I was thinking about any specific grudges Miko might have personally against Knockout to help fuel that punch

Because typically Miko goes in with a sort of "I learned this by watching WWE with Bulkhead and I'm excited to hurt you" tiny human wrecker energy and is naturally hyped, so she tends to go in with a slightly showy approach to delivering a beatdown, which makes sense.

We know she watches stuff like monster truck rallies with Bulkhead, and we know she's watched Bulkhead and Wheeljack pretty closely, and this has had an impact on her developing her personal fighting style: High energy, maybe a couple attempts at some kind of signature moves. she's learned from TV shows and watching actual factional alien warfare play out in the Nevada desert. Shit's wild, and so is she.

But when she punches Knockout, it's a totally silent, quick, efficient hit-- which is pretty different to how Miko usually approaches "the smackdown".

Sure, part of it is because Knockout is sort of ruining a huge moment for the Autobots by quipping at a particularly annoying moment to do so, and she probably just wants him to shut the fuck up as quickly as possible so they can all get back to enjoying watching the revitalisation of Cybertron.

And they're all probably a bit tired from even managing to get to this point.

But then I remembered:

In the episode Flying Mind, Miko and Raf help Fowler off the Nemesis after he's been incapacitated.

But Jack stays behind, and when Knockout snaps out of Trypticon's stasis, he attempts to power drill through Jack's head/upper torso.

Ratchet comes through the ground bridge and punches Knockout, in the same way Miko punches Knockout in the series finale. One hit, and we're done here.

(Sorry for the crunchy quality screenshot, my internet connection is a bit crunchy itself at the moment lmao)

Now, Miko wasn't there to witness this, but we know Miko frequently asks the others to tell her about anything she misses, either because she's been asked to stay home or because things kicked off when she was otherwise not around. She likes to hear battle stories. She's actively jealous of the others when they get to go deal with cool shit and she can't for various reasons.

So we can assume that she asked Jack what happened, or perhaps Ratchet briefed everyone once the other Autobots were revived from temporary stasis, and she would have been present for that in the base.

Miko holds a grudge. There is an entire episode where her and Wheeljack essentially go on an ill-advised revenge mission after Bulkhead is injured. She operates on that mafia level shit, wanting revenge so badly that she essentially withholds information from Wheeljack until he agrees to let her tag along.

And while she learned from that experience, it does hint at the type of mindset she has-- Don't fuck with her friends, or she will very much hold onto that anger until she gets the chance to act on it.

When she punches Knockout, it's a quick, clean punch. Which makes sense contextually for that scene, she's not going to haul completely off on him in that moment.

But it also echoes how Ratchet dealt with him when Knockout was threatening Jack, and that seems like the kind of detail Miko would remember after having it described to her.

She has a bit of a vengeful streak, and even though she does learn not to act on desires for revenge, she's still a kid and god she loves fighting so much, and there is no way she forgot about that one time Knockout tried to kill her friend with a fucking drill-- Even if she didn't get to witness it, it's likely she was told about it in some way, and she's been holding onto that for a while.

So I just really like that her punching Knockout is a mirror of when Ratchet punched Knockout previously, because we know she's very good at paying attention to detail when it comes to fighting, and we know that she learns from observation and from listening to battle stories.

It makes a lot of sense if she just recognised Knockout as being that one bot who nearly killed Jack and remembered how Jack likely described the incident to her later (or may have gotten details from any debriefing Ratchet may have provided at the base), and in that moment recalled that Ratchet took him down in one hit, so she should probably just do the same.

It's quick, it worked before on this exact bot, it'll probably work again.

Miko does learn. She very much holds a grudge. And I like that even though her actions in the finale make sense even without the possible background connection to a prior episode, it does perfectly make sense either way.

You know she begged Jack for all the details later, and you know she committed that shit to memory.

If Ratchet can knock out Knockout, so can she.

And she's not having their victory moment fucked up by some dude who seriously put them in danger on many previous occasions, even if he came around to the "winning team" in the end.

anyway you just know Miko is a mascot for the Wreckers later on, like there's no way Wheeljack and/or Bulkhead doesn't custom paint the side of a ship at some point like a WW2 aircraft lmao but it's just a painting of Miko laughing maniacally while punching a boulder or something

#tfp #transformers prime #tfp ratchet #tfp jack #tfp miko #miko nadakai #jack darby #tfp knockout #long post #just thinkin #maccadam #maccadams #transformers #wreckers

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synchros · 2 months

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Figured I may as well post my original reverse big bang concept sketches because I love process stuff! (and also maybe to hold future me accountable to doing something with the two rejects)

From left to right we've got:

The one I went with, as it's an idea I've been mulling over for a long time and best fit the scope of the mini big bang: A very young miner Megs discovering his unusual spark after an accident and having to reconcile that with his cold constructed frame, perhaps being what catalyzes his political writing in the first place (inspired by the below exchange from Chaos Theory Part 1).

Pre-LSOTW Ultra Magnus gifting the power armor to Verity in a very rare moment of emotional genuineness from him at this point in his character development. We were ROBBED of Uncle Magnus and Verity bonding via misadventures in space, and I still so desperately want to see it.

Pre-Requiem of the Wreckers exploring the fucking wild "neither of us are over our not-exes" situationship Tarantulas and Overlord had that I still can't believe is kind of canon. Overlord has an apparent lack of sensation due to the ununtrium coating, and you can't tell me Tarantulas wouldn't want to get his mad scientist on to figure out how it works.

#transformers #maccadam #megatron #ultra magnus #verity carlo #tarantulas #overlord #overtara #art.png #also oh god yeah warnings def needed for this #cw gore #cw robogore #cw dissection #tf big bang

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freesia-writes · 5 months

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Chapter 1: Family Dinner

Enjoy a riveting tale of romance, suspense, adventure, and self-discovery as Hunter finds his path after the events of TBB. With engaging imagery, emotional depth, comic relief, and some fun twists and turns, the story will take you on a delightful ride with our beloved Sergeant, leaving you satisfied as he finds his happily ever after… eventually. 😉 Rated PG-13 for some mild suspense, suggestive talk, alcohol and drug use, and adult themes. Banner and dividers by @pinkiemme Master List here

BEFORE WE DIVE IN... Now that we’re past the finale, I’d like to make this fit in as well with that as possible. But I also want to enjoy it. ;) So here’s where this lies… Tech was found alive and well (living in a hut in the forest on Tantiss? lol) and came with the boys after they BLEW IT ALL UP. Omega is living with them as well, for now, because they all thought it was wise to give her a break and some semblance of “normal life” while the rebellion continued to build. She might seem a little less like a full soldier here and more like a typical teenager on the brink of adulthood, and that might be a bit of a shift from her development throughout season 3, but I think it’s still reasonable to think that some of the typical adolescent stuff might come up once she was immersed into a more typical adolescent setting. Maybe not, but again… it’s just for the plot. ;)

I’m changing the setting for a variety of reasons, but they left Pabu out of fear that the Empire might still have it on their radar. You’ll learn more about the island of Xylo in a couple chapters. Crosshair didn’t lose a hand, but he’s still got some lingering effects from his time on Tantiss. Echo opted to spend a year with the Batch before rejoining the rebellion. The events of this fic may seem relatively domestic after all that the Batch endured, but I really just wanted to have a warm and fuzzy story with family, humor, love, and some plot twists. Ultimately, the purpose here is to enjoy a romance adventure with Hunter, so please forgive any plot holes and just enjoy the ride. ;)

Chapter 1: Family Dinner (Word Count: 2.5k) Fanart by @nika6q

The balmy sea breeze ruffled the tablecloth and made the string lights dance merrily above the jovial scene below as the clinking of silverware on plates punctuated the steady hubbub of conversation that rose and fell with the emotion of what was being shared. Some overly-optimistic sea birds hovered above on a swell, fastidiously watching for any dropped crumbs before swooping gracefully into another updraft. Crosshair was looking at them down the edge of his finger, which he had shaped into a gun with the help of his thumb, and his focused squint was interrupted by a smack on his arm. He flashed his partner a wry grin as they chuckled, shaking their head at his “murder noodle antics”, as they’d come to call it.

“Stop traumatizing the wildlife and eat your fish,” they laughed.

“This looks an awful lot like traumatized wildlife too, you know,” Crosshair answered, picking at the fillet with a fork. “I mean, what horrors did this thing have to endure at the end of Wrecker’s line?”

“I’m starting to feel like traumatized wildlife,” his partner jabbed, grinning ear to ear as they took a bite of their brightly-flavored steamed vegetables.

“If it decreases any potential reservations you may yet hold,” Tech interjected, “As far as neuroscience has yet been able to distinguish, this particular genus of sea creatures do not possess the pain receptors necessary for the experience of pain with which humanoid species are familiar.”

“Thanks, Julia Child,” Crosshair muttered, a hint of fondness flickering beneath the dry humor.

“If you are metaphorically comparing me to the infamously accomplished chef of the Core Worlds, it is hardly an insult, Crosshair. You are losing your edge.” Tech’s savage burn was delivered at a slightly louder volume than usual, and Wrecker’s boisterous laugh immediately broke through. The massive clone pointed a gleeful finger at Crosshair as he finished his bite between hearty chuckles.

“That one’s gotta hurt!” Wrecker exclaimed, pulling his hand back as Phee smacked it away.

“You tryin to resurrect the grumpiness? Come on, big guy. Think it through,” Phee said playfully, arching a sharp eyebrow at Wrecker, whose unabashed grin remained unfazed despite her mockingly stern correction. “Or I’m gonna kick you out of our house.”

Omega giggled, sharing a glance with Hunter across the table, who gave her a half-smile and wink before turning back to Echo, who was filling him in on the newest developments at his Defense Training Academy.

“I didn’t think it would fill up so quickly,” Echo mused, tearing apart the large fish filet on his plate with his fork. “I guess the Empire’s got everyone spooked, even out here. But it’s a good thing, I think… They’ll be ready to fight if it ever comes to that, but Maker willing, it won’t.”

“They’re doing the same on Pabu,” Phee chipped in, leaning forward to nod at Echo. “Shep’s got a whole daily regimen of exercise, strategy, and drills for any possible scenario he can think of. You should talk to him; he could use your military expertise.’

“I’d be interested to hear what he’s doing,” Echo nodded in return. “Maybe we could make a trip that way sometime soon.”

“Can I come?!” Omega said brightly, tugging Echo’s arm from her seat beside him. “I’d love to see Lyana. I wish we’d been able to stay there.”

“Me too, kid,” Hunter said with a sigh, leaning back in his chair after resting his wooden utensils on his plate. “But you know trouble follows us wherever we go. It’s better for them this way. Besides, Xylo is pretty much the same–”

“Aside from an entirely different subset of ecosystems and a much larger diversity in flora and fauna due to the greater size of the island, yes… Xylo is similar to Pabu in that… they are both islands,” Tech interjected, wavering at the end as he caught sight of Phee's fondly arched eyebrow directed at him.

“I know,” Omega said, “It’s just hard making friends wherever we go and having to leave them… Jek and Shaeeah, Hera, Lyana… But everyone at school is really nice so far too.” She was so sweet, so earnest, always trying to look on the bright side while still being true to her feelings… Hunter’s heart warmed in his chest as he listened to her thoughts.

“Yeah, how’s that going?” Wrecker asked. He was the best uncle, ever-vigilant about her experiences on the island of Xylo since they’d made a decent attempt to integrate into society. It had been the better half of a year already, and they felt as though things were just now settling into some faint hint of an established life.

“I love it!” Omega exclaimed enthusiastically, causing infectious smiles to appear on several of her family members’ faces. “It was the best year for me to join – it sounds like everything before this was all just academic units, but now they’re getting to really live it out and see what they want to do in life!”

“Academic units are highly useful building blocks for success in individual endeavors, Omega,” Tech reminded her. “Or for saving one’s life when careening toward the earth at fatal speeds in cargo containers…” he smirked, enjoying his own dry humor for a moment before falling silent. Phee was the only one who caught the slight flash of a frown at the corners of his lips and the way he subconsciously rubbed his thigh – echoes of the pain of the past.

“I know, Tech, but I’ve been studying everything, and now it’s time to actually do stuff! The forestry section just wrapped up, and this week I get to start shadowing Madame Dreyfus – she’s a seamstress who dyes her own fabrics! I heard that if I do well, she might let me make my own outfit for the Advancement Ceremony at the end of the year!”

“I’m sure you’ll do great, kid,” Phee said confidently, smiling warmly above the table while her hand joined Tech’s beneath, gently placing it on top of his where it rested on his thigh.

“Maybe you could make Wrecker something to wear so he has more than two shirts,” Crosshair suggested, squinting at his brawny brother, who rolled his eyes, unfazed, and brushed a few crumbs off his open-chested brown tunic.

“Maybe you could make Crosshair some pants that aren’t so kriffing tight so he’s not acting like he’s got a wad of fabric up his–”

“Language, Echo,” Hunter growled, and Omega wasn’t the only one who enjoyed a hearty chuckle.

“You know I hear worse than that at school,” she giggled, eyes sparkling with delight as Echo gave her a wink.

“I know…” came Hunter’s answering grumble, and Omega reached across beneath the table to give his leg a little tap with her foot, watching his face soften as their eyes met.

“Anyway,” Echo continued, “With the number of sign-ups at the DTA, we’re going to need some other instructors and guides soon. I don’t suppose any of you are interested in donating some of your time and expertise to whip these locals into shape?”

“DTA?” Crosshair’s partner whispered.

“Defense Training Academy,” he murmured back, rubbing an idle hand up and down their muscular arm. “It’s what the cool kids call it.”

“Then I will definitely not call it that,” they snickered, and Crosshair smirked as he turned back to Echo.

“They’re gonna need more time before they can handle anything I’ve got to teach them,” he said. “But I’d pay good money to be able to watch them fight Wrecker for sport. Er, practice.”

“That’d be fun!” Wrecker laughed, smacking his closed fist with his other hand. “Gonna have to wait though. I’m swamped with projects after the last mudslide. Everyone wants things added or changed to their rebuilt homes so it’s all takin a lot longer.”

“They’re keepin you busy, huh?” Phee asked, knowing that Wrecker loved every minute of it. He’d never had the opportunity to put his skills to use outside of his service to the Republic, and she’d been privy to many a conversation filled with his enthusiasm for craftsmanship. It helped that he was able to lift and move most everything by himself, too.

“Yeah! Now if I could just get Hunter to stop freaking out the locals when he’s out huntin,” Wrecker said, narrowing his eyes at the Sergeant, who smirked and shrugged.

“Look, the whole island is open access. It’s not illegal. Besides, I think they’d be complaining a lot more if their favorite meats weren’t available at my shop anymore…”

“That’s for sure!” Omega chipped in, wearing a wry smile. It struck Hunter in that moment just how much she had changed in the short time they’d known her. Especially since the Tantiss rescue, where they’d successfully extracted her along with Tech and Crosshair before blowing up the entire facility and everything in it, her face had gotten more angular, her hair longer. She was wildly intelligent and had an enthusiasm and warmth that was unmatched, but as she’d grown, they’d had their share of conflicts. Hunter couldn’t relate, having had his entire life planned out for him as soon as he’d reached “adulthood” with his rapidly-accelerated aging, but there were endless nuances to a young woman that he was having to figure out as they went along. Sometimes he forgot how much she was aware of – she’d been so sheltered from certain realms of civilian life, but having nestled into life on the island, she’d become much more connected and “up with the times”, so to speak. She continued, a glimmer in her eye now, “I heard some office ladies talking about you the other day!”

“Yeah?” Hunter asked, squinting at the mischief on her face.

“Yeah,” she echoed, idly rolling the last piece of sushi on her plate. “One of them said she loved your butcher shop and that you’ve got the best meat on the island,” Omega said slowly, face straight as a board. “The other one said she couldn’t agree more, and a third one said she hasn’t been to the shop but would love to have your meat in her mouth.”

Echo choked on his drink, Crosshair’s toothpick fell out of his mouth, and Wrecker exploded into a guffaw that sent the sea birds tumbling through the air before quickly regaining their graceful hovering. Hunter pressed his lips together, focusing his gaze on Tech’s completely impassive face to try to stabilize himself before replying.

“You’ll have to point out the third one next time I take you to school,” Phee said quietly, nothing but innocence painted across her features.

“Seemed like an odd way to say it,” Omega muttered, twisting her mouth to the side, and Hunter genuinely couldn’t tell if she was pulling his leg or not.

“You will find that there are many nuances to speech specific to geographical and cultural areas that might make one phrase sound entirely different than it would in another place. I would not worry about it. The point is that we should congratulate Hunter on his successful business,” Tech suggested, speaking loudly over Wrecker’s continued laughter.

“Yeah,” Echo agreed. “He sure is satisfying his customers…”

“Apparently not all of them,” Crosshair prodded, and his partner elbowed him again.

“Moving on,” Hunter said emphatically, “Wrecker, when can you fix the chimney? Winter will be here soon and I can only keep it so warm with that draft…”

“Yeah yeah,” Wrecker said, waving him off amid residual chortles. “I’ll come by this week.”

“Taungsday?” Hunter pressed.

“Mmm, Centaxday maybe. Taungsday is the “Grand Re-Opening” at the tiki bar. They got new freshers! Supposed to be all fancy now.”

“Anything would be fancy compared to the pits they had,” Tech sniffed. “While wildly inconvenient for relieving oneself during a raucous night of imbibing, they could have been permanent fixtures in the cultural museum considering how primitive and dated they were.”

“I’m sure the locals would be thrilled at that exhibit,” Phee affirmed, rising to her feet to begin clearing the table. The Primeday tradition of dinner at Tech and Phee’s had been one of the first things everyone had agreed on, and in the months since they’d arrived on Xylo, it had been the grounding activity each week that allowed them to feel a sense of belonging and routine.

Everyone got up to help clean up except for Wrecker and Hunter, who lingered behind to finish their drinks. Tech had not only developed an interest in cooking, but had also discovered quite the knack for mixing drinks. He couldn’t stand the local tiki bar down on the beach, insisting that their proportions were all wrong and they were using nothing but cheap garbage to try to make as much profit as possible. However, considering the beautiful waterfront location and the fact that it seemed to be the main gathering place for the entire town, no one seemed to mind quite as much as Tech.

“Headin out early tomorrow?” Wrecker asked, swirling the liquid in his wood cup.

“Mhm,” Hunter answered, mimicking the movement before taking a sip. “The Kod’yok are migrating and the locals love their flank steaks. You good to walk with Omega?”

“You betcha, although she’s getting old enough that she probably doesn’t need it anymore, ya know…”

“I know, but let’s let her be the one to suggest that, eh? I don’t want her feeling thrown out on her own in a new place. Plus, we can never be too safe.”

Wrecker sighed. He’d been able to let go more quickly of the paranoia that still seemed to rest on Hunter’s shoulders, although he was aware of the crippling responsibility the Sergeant felt for all that had transpired, from Crosshair being separated from the squad back on Kamino to the rescue attempt that had cost Tech his life, or so they thought. Recovering the rest of the team had been a harrowing fiasco, but they’d emerged victorious… barely.

They’d found a planet in the middle of nowhere, uncharted in most of the records Tech was able to find, and it had been a welcome respite from the increasing turmoil across the galaxy that accompanied the spread of the Empire. Xylo was similar to Pabu in its feeling of safety and anonymity, unknown by virtually anyone outside the island, and there were a handful of other similar islands scattered across the rest of the planet, most of which was covered by water. Xylo was the largest island on the nameless planet and had so far been a good place for everyone to settle.

It was late by the time everyone had finished their cleaning and conversations, and Hunter was the last to leave, thanking Phee again for her usual hospitality as she disappeared around the corner with a wave. Tech saw him out, pausing on the doorstep to fiddle with one of his pouches.

“I finished this today,” he said, handing a small bag to Hunter. “It will function excellently anywhere on the planet. I can assemble others if you feel a need, but I believe our existing comm devices suffice.”

“Thanks, Tech. One is good for now. I appreciate it.” And with that, they went their separate ways.

~ Master List ~ Next Chapter

@lightwise @have-a-hiddles @littlemissmanga @dystopicjumpsuit @523rdrebel

@solstraalaa @skellymom @photogirl894 @youreababboon @anything-forourmoony

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@cw80831 @dreamie411 @meagmcc12 @waytoooldforthis78

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mandos-mind-trick · 1 year

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Danger

Summary: You share a danger meter with your soulmate, telling you how much danger your soulmate is in at all times. It's much too high too often for your liking, but with war raging in the galaxy, there's not much you can do about it. Your meter is still too high after the war ends, but a chance meeting at your workplace gives you the answer as to why.

Pairing: Wrecker x reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: NSFW, smut, fingering, oral, Wrecker has a big dick, unrealistic sex, unprotected sex, lots of mentions of Wrecker's size, some violence, brief mention of SA but it's barely noticeable, language, alcohol, fluff, Soulmate AU, food, a slight touch of angst.

A/N: I finally got it done. It's...long. It's the longest so far. So much for these being short fics lol. It's cute, it's sweet, it's spicy, it's a little bit angsty, kinda like Wrecker.

MASTERLIST

The meter’s sitting too high, again.

You stare down it, your stomach twisting nervously.

What are they getting themselves into?

Your soulmate link, like many others, came late. It had stumped you when you’d woken one morning to a meter on your left forearm, far past the normal age for developing one. It’s flat on your skin like a tattoo, designed like a meter with small ticks spaced evenly between two larger ones.

A danger meter.

One long line representing the needle of the meter would move around depending on how much danger your soulmate is in. The far left is safety, the middle is slight danger, and the right side is extreme danger.

About a year after it showed up, the needle began to move.

It gradually shifted from the left, toeing the line representing slight danger.

Two years after it showed up, it began sitting in the middle.

It didn’t spend all of its time there, but more often than not, the line drifted into the middle, or slightly above. As the years went on, it became more and more common to look down and see it sitting in slight danger. You try not to think too much about it, but the entire situation is puzzling.

Then the war started.

You were lucky and your planet stayed mostly untouched. Being in the core worlds, your planet was lucky enough to have the most protection by the Republic, despite not having much to offer politically or in terms of resources.

Despite your relative safety, the meter on your arm hit the right side about a year in. It became rare to see it dip back into the middle, constantly sitting somewhere in the right, even once going so high you almost couldn't see the needle because it was so close to the border of the mark.

It was around that time your friend showed you the site set up on the HoloNet dedicated to those whose soulmate marks showed up late, all close to the same time. It had been created, supposedly, by someone directly involved with the GAR, and they had mentioned the appearance of soulmate links among the clones.

By the time you found it, it had been proven that most of those with links that showed up within ten years before the war started, were likely linked to one of the millions of clones currently fighting to defend the Republic.

It certainly explained the late mark.

It also explained the constant danger your soulmate was in.

Of course, there also was the protocol that had been introduced early on in the development of the army requiring clones to reject their soulmates if they were ever to meet. With clones spread across the galaxy, it was very likely you’d meet eventually. Some claimed the clones didn’t agree with the rules and many of them refused to follow. Some protested, claiming that if clones do have soul links, then it’s just further proof they are individuals, not just faceless numbers to fill the army’s ranks.

You tried not to be too hopeful. You also tried not to be discouraged.

You found solace in the masses on the site like you. You spent your free time scrolling through the pages and pages of messages and posts. The rare few like you who shared the meter soulmate link, constantly worrying as the meter rarely dropped below the middle section. You read posts from those who claimed to have met their soulmates, those unlucky few who were rejected. The many who backed up the claim that most of the clones refused to follow that rule. Your heart broke for those whose soulmate links had gone dark, many before they’d even had a chance to meet.

It became a new fear, beyond the constant danger you knew your soulmate was in. You had nightmares, waking in the middle of the night to check that your mark is, in fact, still there. It hasn’t grayed out, it hasn’t disappeared. It’s always still there, always sitting too far into the extreme danger section for your liking.

You spend a lot of time trying to picture your soulmate. You know what he’ll look like to a certain degree. You’ve seen photos, private ones or edited propaganda ones, slightly blurry and pixelated ones from news sources spread across the HoloNet, of the clones. You know what he’ll look like to a point, but they all were different. They had tattoos, wore their hair a certain way, many had scars or marks on their armor. You wonder what he looks like. You wonder what his name is.

It helps distract you from the constant fear.

Then the war ends.

The site erupts into chaos. Everyone had expected the end of the war to bring nothing but difficulty. After all, what was the Republic going to do with millions of clones created to fight a war that’s over? Many had plans for smuggling their clone soulmate out from under the Republic, running away, fighting for clone rights, getting politicians involved.

Of course, those had all been plans for when the Republic won.

Though it’s never explicitly stated on the news, you know deep down not everything is as it seems.

The messages popping up on the site are only confirmation of your feelings.

Thousands upon thousands of posts. The clones have suddenly gone dark. Those that had been in contact can no longer reach them. Those who got messages nearly every day no longer hear from them.

They’re not dead. They’ve just...disappeared.

In the weeks that follow, some get brave enough to begin seeking them out. Or, at least trying to.

You try not to think about it too much.

Your meter’s still there, still far too high for your liking. Whatever had happened, your soulmate isn’t any safer than when the war was happening. The line is still consistently sitting on the right side. You can’t help but wonder what your soulmate is doing, if they’re okay, if they ever think about you.

The meter on their arm must seem very boring compared to yours. You’re rarely in dangerous situations. You’ve never been in a life threatening situation, and the closest you probably got to the middle section were a few close calls with drunk patrons at the bar you work at. You can’t even fathom being in life threatening danger, but if your soulmate is a clone, then they’ve spent their entire life in danger.

It makes you sad.

***

The day starts as any other.

You’re up early, mentally preparing yourself for your workday. Your job wasn’t hard, per se, more boring than anything. Cid’s Parlor rarely got busy enough to be overwhelming, which meant you usually got stuck doing more than just bartending. Anything Cid could find for you to do, she would make you. You know the parlor’s a front, but at least Cid considered you useful enough to keep you around.

Bolo and Ketch are already there by the time you arrive. Cid’s two loyal customers who spent almost their entire day gambling and drinking and messing around. They’re entirely harmless, though they have a habit of bickering and occasionally fighting.

Cid puts you to work immediately, before you even have time to put your things away. The floor needs swept, the bar needs restocking, the tables need to be wiped down again, one of the slot machines is broken. She’d take care of the last one herself. It’s not like she doesn't trust you, and it’s not like you’d steal either. Sure, your wages were meager compared to the work you had to do, but you weren’t going to complain.

There weren’t many other options for you.

You start with restocking the bar, the most exhausting of all of the tasks. Packing crates of full liquor bottles across the bar, and empty bottles out back to be recycled. It’s your third trip back when you notice them. A group has come in, looking rather out of place. Bolo and Ketch are fighting again, and you sigh, setting the crate of bottles on a table.

“Alright, you two, break it up. Nothing either of you have is worth that much.” You push them apart gently, your eyes trailing over the group following Cid back into her office.

They’re...clones.

You recognize the armor, at least. You’d stared at photos of it over and over during the war. Their armor is painted in reds, greys, and blacks though, instead of the usual white with different colored accents.

One of them is also large. Very large. Definitely not built like any of the clones in the photos you’d seen.

You go back to work, knowing Cid will find some way to deduct your pay if she catches you slacking. You can’t help but wonder who they are, wonder what they’re doing here. If they are clones...you know Cid had been involved with the Republic during the war. You hope she’s not in trouble.

You would likely be in trouble just for being associated with her.

You begin restocking, cleaning around the bottles as you go. The parlor certainly isn’t the cleanest place, given it was mostly you doing the cleaning, but at least you tried.

The group begins to file out a while later. You peek at them over your shoulder as they pass the bar, heading out the door. They don’t look like clones, yet you can still see the resemblance. You’ve stared at enough photos, you know the face like the back of your hand. Maybe they aren’t clones, maybe you’re looking too much into it. Maybe you’re just hoping.

You don’t ask questions, even when Cid leaves her office. You know better. Even if you’re itching for details, it’s not your business to know. Sure, you see the kinds of people Cid often meets with, but you don’t usually interact more than showing them to her office or occasionally, lying that she’s not around.

You don’t like lying, but usually Cid would slip a couple extra credits into your hand and ask you to play dumb. You do it, if nothing else to keep trouble away. After all, you’re just there to tend the bar, wipe down tables, and clean a permanently dirty floor.

The day is rather eventful, more so than usual. A few hours after the first group had left, a mean looking Twi’lek and two Gamorreans had entered the bar and rather rudely demanded to see Cid. You had directed them to her office before returning to cleaning glasses that never quite got to be spotlessly clean. You glance at the danger meter on your arm, the line sitting off to the right once more.

You still worry one day you’ll look down and the meter will be gone. Realistically you’ll know before it disappears off your skin. The pain, they say, is worse than anything you’ll ever feel. The emptiness after is unbearable. Many don’t last long after their soulmates die. Those that do rarely live happy lives.

You don’t want to be one of them.

You just have to find your soulmate.

There’s a noise outside the bar, like the roar of an animal. There aren’t any large animals that wander around Ord Mantell City. You’re half tempted to look when the Twi’lek and Gamorreans leave Cid’s office, the Trandoshan not far behind. You stuff your curiosity, lazily cleaning glasses while you wait for the few patrons that would inevitably stumble in for an evening of drinking and gambling.

Cid comes back in a few minutes later, one of the members of the group from earlier following. You can’t help but stare at him, taking him in. His hair is longer than any of the clones you’d seen, and there’s a tattoo of a skull covering half his face. His brow is furrowed, concentrated as he meets your gaze for a moment.

His eyes.

His eyes are the same as all the clones you’ve ever seen.

So Cid is dealing with a group of clones.

You break your gaze from the clone’s as he passes, glancing down at your arm. You frown, running your finger over your skin. That can’t be right.

The line is all the way to the left.

You almost can’t see it, it's so far.

It hasn’t looked like that in years. So what’s changed? Why, in a matter of hours, has your meter gone from its normal position to suddenly complete safety? You lean against the bar, holding your wrist against your chest, almost as if you could bring your soulmate closer.

Wherever they are, you hope they really are that safe.

***

You get introduced to the clones the next day.

They’re already there by the time you arrive for your shift. Cid introduces you to them, as they’d be doing some regular work for her and frequenting the parlor often.

They are indeed clones. Though they are enhanced, the one named Tech explains to you. That accounted for their physical differences, at least. Especially the youngest, the female clone named Omega. She’s cute, for a kid at least. You haven’t spent much time around kids. Neither have they, it seems.

You know the web group would be losing their minds over this.

You wouldn’t dare say anything, though.

It had become clear rather quickly that the Empire was directly involved in the mass disappearance of the clones. Many that had deserted were now on the run, having to hide for their own safety. Much like these clones in Cid’s parlor. Many had disappeared off the site, posts slowing to a crawl as some of them went into hiding, some tried to rescue their soulmates, and others...well, probably like you, were simply waiting.

You’d cross paths eventually. Fate wouldn’t give you a soulmate you’d never meet. That’s not the way it worked. You weren’t nearly brave enough to go searching, so you’d wait. No matter how long it took.

You’d find each other when you needed it.

The group of clones became frequent visitors at Cid’s parlor. They were “running errands” for her, which you knew meant they were taking jobs from Cid’s clients for a cut of the payout. Cid knows you know, but you know better than to ever ask directly.

You get to know them as they hang around the bar, some of them even assisting you in your various duties. Wrecker was more than happy to reach the high shelves and carry the heavy bottles for you. The large clone had intimidated you a bit at first, but you quickly learned he was a big, sweet softie. They’re all sweet, if a bit withdrawn, but you can understand. You can’t imagine having to be cautious, not being able to trust anyone.

Omega is the most comfortable, and if anything, curious. You’re happy to entertain her questions, glad to have the distraction while the parlor is slow. She’s grown on you a bit, but it seems she has that effect on everyone.

You’ve also come to like having them at the bar. Maybe it’s the joy of finally having other people around besides Bolo and Ketch, even if they were simply coming and going between “errands.”

You’ve also come to enjoy having Wrecker’s help. He’s just as enamored with your stories as Omega, sitting and listening to them just as eagerly. It’s helped take your mind off the stress, the worry about the safety of your soulmate.

Your meter is still jumping around. Sometimes safe, sometimes jumping to the middle, and even as far as the right. Only one time recently has it jumped all the way to the right, though. That has to count for something.

You blame the strenuous working hours on your inability to notice the pattern.

***

It’s late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. You’ve been working since early morning the day before. The parlor had been busier during the day, but it had died off in the late hours of the night. Even Bolo and Ketch have called it quits, leaving you alone with Cid. You haven’t seen the boys in a few days. They had gotten a visitor at the parlor that had caused quite a scene. You hadn’t asked, though, serving up drinks before heading to storage to do another inventory count. Whatever they had to talk about, it wasn’t your business.

They had left not long after, and you hadn’t heard hide nor hair of them since. You miss them a bit, at the very least, you miss their company. Your danger meter has been all over the place, only making you worry. For a while it had sat all the way to the right, before dropping back down. All day it’s been in the left section, at least taking that worry off your shoulders.

“Go home, kid.” Cid says, making her way out of her office. “Don’t bother coming in later.”

“You sure?” You yawn, fighting the sleep burning at your eyes. You’d curl up and sleep in one of the booths right now if you could.

Cid nods towards the door. “Go. Before I change my mind.”

“Thanks, Cid.” You say, finishing up what you’re doing before grabbing your things. “See you tomorrow.”

She waves absentmindedly as you make your way out of the door. It’s not far to your apartment, but it’s still late enough to be dangerous. The sky is still dark, and you know the streets will be mostly empty except for those late drinkers heading home. It’s not the first time you’ve walked home at this hour. You just preferred to walk home while the streets were still decently trafficked with people.

You keep your hands tight around your bag, anxiety thrumming in your chest. A left up ahead and you can cut through the alley and then two blocks down.

You shouldn’t cut through the alley.

It’s a rookie mistake.

You had sensed someone following you, keeping back far enough in the distance, you hadn’t been able to see them when you turned the corner. You knew they were there, though, something in the back of your mind telling you to be alert.

Cutting through the alley is a mistake.

They’re on you as soon as you disappear from the street, arms wrapping around you from behind, a hand covering your mouth as you attempt to scream. You kick your legs back, flailing your arms to try and either slip out of their grasp, or hit them hard enough to force them to let go.

Your plan sort of works, your foot managing to catch him in the knee. He drops his hand from your mouth, his grip loosening enough for you to try and twist out of his grip. You scream, hoping someone, anyone might hear. His hand catches your arm as you try to get away, yanking you back.

“You bitch!”

You double over as his fist hits your stomach, your scream cutting off in a squeak as the air is cut off by the impact to your diaphragm. You’re done for. You know this one isn’t just after your bag and its meager contents. You can smell the alcohol wafting off him, the strength to his hold fueled by the alcohol pumping through him. He’s out of his mind, but he’s going to take what he wants.

“Hey!”

You both turn to look, surprised by the voice at the end of the alley. Someone had heard. You try and look past the drunk at your knight in shining armor.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

You stare at the hulking mass making its way down the alley towards your position. His face is hidden under a helmet, a familiar design on the front.

Wrecker.

You watch in shock as Wrecker grabs the drunk man, tossing him easily out of the alley and into the middle of the street. He staggers back to his feet, obviously knocked a little sober by his impact as he turns and runs.

You’re seated on the ground, your legs having given out. Your breath is still wheezing, your diaphragm spasming painfully as it tries to recover the assault it had just taken. You’re gonna be feeling that one in the morning.

“Are you alright?” Wrecker asks, kneeling down in front of you.

He reaches out with such tenderness, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. You almost melt under the touch, such a contrast to the brute strength you had just seen. You can’t do much else but nod, still gasping for air. Your heart is pounding, anxiety burning through you at what had just almost happened.

“We should get you looked at.” He says, scooping you up into his arms.

It’s shocking how easily he lifts you. Like you weigh nothing at all. You suppose you don’t hardly weigh anything to him, with his enhanced strength.

You point your arm down the alley. “That way.” You gasp out. “My apartment.”

“Just show me the way, then.” He says, carrying you out of the alley.

You let yourself relax in his arms, directing him towards your apartment building. Your breathing settles, but there’s an ache in your stomach now. There’s probably already a bruise.

You lean your head against Wrecker’s shoulder, looking up at the side of his face. “How did you know where to find me?”

“We got to Cid’s just after you left. I...didn’t like the idea of you walkin’ by yourself. Hunter told me which way to go.” His grip tightens just slightly around you. “Then I heard you scream.”

“Thank you.” You say as he ascends the steps to your apartment.

“Aww, well, it was nothin’.” He says bashfully. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to ya.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips. It’s been a long time since someone cared about you that much. Wrecker sets you back on your feet, your stomach twinging painfully at the motion. You unlock your door, limping inside. You want nothing more than to collapse on your bed in exhaustion, but you should at least slap a bacta patch on your wound first. Wrecker follows you in, looking comically large in your small apartment.

“There’s a med kit under the sink.” You say, dropping your bag on the couch.

Wrecker retrieves it for you and you open it up, setting it on the table. You pull your shirt over your head, looking down at the sore spot on your stomach. Wrecker clears his throat, flushed bright red as his gaze tries to look anywhere but you.

Your face heats up as you realize what you’ve done. “Kriff, sorry Wrecker.” You grab for your shirt, quickly trying to pull it over your head. “I’m...not used to anyone else being here.”

You pause with your shirt halfway on your arms as he suddenly appears inches in front of you. He had moved so silently for someone so large. His hand reaches out, moving slowly like he’s waiting for you to stop him.

You don’t.

His gloved fingers brush your side, your body twitching just slightly at the ticklish sensation. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched by someone else so gently. The occasional grab, feel, grope, pass of a hand is nothing new working at the parlor. You didn’t like it, though, when the drunk men got too bold.

Wrecker’s touch is gentle, like he’d pull his hand away if you said the word. It’s so different. So new.

You like it.

“That must get awful lonely.” He says, staring down at your face.

Of course, as a clone, he’d likely never known what it was like to have his own space. He’s always been surrounded by other clones, always sharing his space, always having someone around.

“It does feel that way sometimes.” You say, staring up into his eyes.

His gaze is soft as he stares at you, such a contrast to the power you know lies within him. He could squash you like a bug. Yet, his gaze speaks of nothing but gentleness. His hand is so warm, so big as his palm encompasses your side, fingers splaying across the softness there.

“Wrecker?” You ask softly, a question burning in the back of your mind. “Why did you follow after me?”

His eyes widened just a bit, like he wasn’t expecting that. He’d already sort of given you an answer, but something within you is telling you it’s not the entire truth. He stumbles over his words for a moment, his eyes looking everywhere but your face. “I, uh, when Cid said you left already...I...checked my danger meter.”

It takes your brain a moment to catch up to his words. Your eyes widen a bit, your gaze dropping to your own danger meter on your arm. The line is all the way to the left, almost invisible against the border of the meter.

Realization dawns on you all at once, your stomach swimming with more than just nerves now. Every time the meter read safe, the boys were at Cid’s bar. Every time it drifted to the right, they were out on an “errand” or away from the bar. When one was in close range with their soulmate, their meters would read completely safe.

“Because there’s nowhere as safe as with your soulmate.” You whisper, lifting your gaze back up to his.

He’s staring at you again, intensity burning in his gaze. It’s not the usual intensity you’ve seen in him, the competitive and protective streaks you know run deep within him. This is something else, something you’ve never seen before in him.

“Wrecker, how did you...know?” You whisper, not trusting your voice not to waver as tears begin to pool in your eyes.

He shrugs. “Well, it was mostly just a feeling.” He lifts his other hand, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then I saw your meter and overheard you talkin’ to Cid the other day.”

Right. Cid had caught you staring at your meter for the thousandth time and had asked you what was so interesting about it. Trandoshans have soulmates, just like most of the other species in the galaxy, so Cid knew about your mark and what it meant. You’ve never asked Cid about her own link. She’s never brought it up, so you’ve always been too scared to ask.

“I asked Tech what it meant.” Wrecker continues. “He said some links sort of...turn off if you’re close to your soulmate. He said it all technical but that’s what it means. Meters don’t show danger when you’re close to your soulmate cause there’s no danger this close.” He shrugs again. “I just kinda figured it out lookin at my own.”

“You’re so smart, Wrecker.” You laugh, your stomach aching in protest. You should stick a bacta patch on before it gets any worse. “I mean, every time you were at the parlor, it was reading safe and then every time you were gone, it would go back up and I didn’t even put two and two together.” You shake your head, turning to the med kit sitting on the table again. Wrecker’s hand drops from your side, leaving a warm spot in its place. “We both were meant to find our ways here, I guess.”

You fight a yawn as you spread a bacta patch across the bruise on your stomach. Wrecker watches you, reaching out as you sway on your feet for a moment. You’re exhausted. It’s finally beginning to hit you, your mind snapping out of the daze. You’ve been up almost a full rotation. You worked a long shift, and then got attacked on your way home, and you’ve found your soulmate.

“Are you okay?” Wrecker asks softly, worry thick in his voice.

You nod. “Yeah. Just really tired all of a sudden.” You rub your burning eyes. “Been a long day.”

“You should sleep, then.” Wrecker says, reaching out for you.

“But...” But you’re right here. You’re finally here. You want to argue. You want to stay awake, you want to talk with him, you want to learn everything you can, hear every story he has to tell. You want to just sit in silence with him and enjoy his presence. You know he’s right, though. You need sleep. “Will you stay? Just for a little while?”

He nods, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “If that’s what you want.”

You nod. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

***

It’s light outside when you wake.

You can see the light shining in through your curtains. It’s the afternoon, you guess, not bothering to roll over and look at your chronometer. You lay there in silence for a few moments. Your stomach doesn’t hurt anymore. You reach under your shirt, peeling the bacta patch off, tossing it haphazardly on the floor.

Your mind replays through the events of the previous day. You can hardly believe it, that your soulmate had been so close for so long and you hadn’t even noticed. You had been right in your deduction that your soulmate is a clone. You would have never pictured Wrecker in all your daydreaming, but you hadn’t known clones like them even existed back then. You won’t complain, though his size does bring a few concerns to the front of your mind.

You finally roll over, glancing across your small bed. You’ll need a bigger one, for starters. Maybe a bigger apartment too.

A noise from the living room draws your attention. Your door is half open, not how you would usually sleep. Your whole body freezes in worry. Is someone inside your apartment? Have your worst fears finally happened? Did someone break in?

You climb out of your bed slowly, opening the door the rest of the way. You can’t see anyone moving around. Your apartment is small enough, there’s really no place to hide. You creep out of your room, dressed in nothing but a baggy shirt and your underwear. Not exactly good fighting clothes.

You peek around the corner finding...Wrecker. He’s scrunched up on your small couch in what’s probably a very uncomfortable position. You hadn’t expected him to stay the entire time you were sleeping. Just until you fell asleep.

“Wrecker?” You ask quietly, not wanting to startle him. You can guess a trained soldier’s reaction to being startled awake is to aim and fire. You don’t want to explain to your landlord why there’s blaster holes in your wall. You also don’t want blaster holes in you either.

You repeat his name slightly louder, succeeding in waking him. He sits up straight on your couch, looking around confused for a moment. He relaxes a bit when he notices you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to still be here.” You say.

“Oh, well,” He rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Hunter said we’re staying here for a couple days so I...didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

You make a mental note to thank Hunter and his big, soft heart later. “That’s really sweet.” You say. “I-I’m glad you’re here.” You are. You had expected to be alone today on your rare day off, but you’re glad for this unexpected surprise. “Are you hungry?”

“Oh yeah.” He says, nodding enthusiastically. “I could eat a whole Bantha.”

You giggle. “Well, let me get changed and we’ll go out and get something to eat.”

You take him out to a buffet, thankfully having missed the lunch rush. You feel bad for the cooks though, as you both load plate after plate full of food. You keep pace with him, grabbing a plate every time he gets up.

He stares at you in shock as you return with a plate full of dessert, digging in. “I’ve never seen someone eat as much as me!”

You shrug, your cheeks warming just a bit. “I like to eat.”

He continues to stare at you, watching you put down dessert after dessert. “I think I love you already.”

Your whole face is hot as his words sink in. You tell yourself he’s only joking, but the look in his eyes says otherwise.

You walk around the market for a bit after nearly cleaning the buffet out completely. You talk, telling him about you. Where you grew up, what brought you to Ord Mantell after the war, what your childhood was like. You know he never got the chance to have one himself. As soon as the clones could walk, they were thrust into training. There was so much of life he’d missed out on since he’d only been made for one purpose.

You swear then and there to give him as much of a normal life as you can.

You understand now, the posts you read from those who had met their clone soulmates. The guilt and the sadness that had plagued them at the thought that their other half had been deprived of normalcy, deprived of experience because they’d only been made for one purpose. Their entire lives had been dedicated to training for war, training to defend a Republic they didn’t even know.

As angry as it makes you, you can’t change it. You can only promise to make things better from here.

You end up on your couch, watching some holofilm. You’re both full and sleepy, content to sit together quietly for the moment. His armor is stacked in a corner, leaving him just in his blacks. He’s still broad and big even without it. Your head has fallen to his shoulder, resting there comfortably. He’s so warm, his body radiating heat. You could fall asleep like this, but part of you doesn’t want to.

His arm snakes around you, pulling you closer against his side. You can feel it, the tension beginning to build. The link tugging, asking you to do something. Anything.

You tilt your head, looking up at him. He’s staring down at you, his gloved fingers trailing along your bare arm. You’re so close. So close to him, so close to his touch.

He leans just slightly closer, your lips parting slightly in anticipation. “I’d really like to kiss you.” He says quietly.

You nod, reaching up and placing your hand on his cheek. Your fingers trail along the raised scars. He’d told you how it happened. Too close to an explosion one time. He’d been lucky. You’d been lucky too.

His lips press against yours, soft and unsure. You’ve only kissed one person once, on a dare in school, and it had felt wrong. Some could ignore it. Some didn’t care. Some didn’t have a choice. You didn’t regret it, but you had felt the shift inside you, telling you they were not your soulmate. It would never feel like it would with your soulmate.

That intuition had been right.

It’s cliche to say, but fireworks go off when your lips touch. At least that’s the best way to describe it. Your body feels full of energy despite the content sleepiness you had just been experiencing moments ago.

His own hand lifts, cupping your face. His hand is so big, fingers reaching back into your hair and your neck. How good those fingers are going to feel inside you.

The thought sends a wave of heat between your legs. You know it’s natural. Most soulmates don’t last a day after initiating the link. It’s some sort of primal need to be as close to your soulmate as possible. Some speculate the true bond isn’t formed until you’re locked together completely and totally as you’re meant to be. One soul split between two bodies. The drive to be as close as possible is uncontrollable.

“I don’t...want ta force you...into anything.” He says, pulling away from your lips just slightly.

You trail your fingers over his cheek, smoothing them across his lips. “I don’t think I could stop. As long as that’s what you want.”

He shifts, lifting you onto his lap. “I’ve been wanting you since you put down that plate of cakes.”

You settle in his lap, legs spread wide over his thick thighs. “Oh, kriff,” You breathe, feeling the bulge pushing out from his blacks.

Every part of him is big.

The thought sends another wave of heat between your legs.

“I think,” You’re interrupted as he kisses you. “We should move to the bed.” You wrap your arms around his neck.

“Good idea.” He murmurs, lifting you up with one arm as he stands.

Kriff, he’s strong.

He carries you the short distance to your room, sitting you gently on the end of your bed. He stares down at you as you shift backwards a bit, giving him space. Yeah, you’re definitely going to need to invest in a bigger bed. You just pray this one holds up.

You strip your shirt over your head. He’s already seen you in your breastband. You’d jumped that step without even thinking last night. Being around him had felt so normal. Like he’s always been here.

He kneels on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His touch is light and soft, such a contrast to the hulking man leaning over you. His fingers trail along your skin, tracing a path over where the bruise had been last night. It tickles your ribs and your sides, his fingers skirting just under your belly button, but not going low enough for your liking.

“Wrecker, let me feel you.” You say, dropping back to your elbows.

He sits up slightly, tugging his gloves off before tossing them and his shirt to the floor. He’s all big, defined muscles and tan skin. There’s scars, big and small, littering his chest and arms. You want to map each and every one, but you’ll do that later. Right now you want him. Right now you need to feel him.

His hands find your skin again, the calloused digits trailing higher this time, skirting around the edge of your breastband. You stare up into his eyes, arching slightly so he can reach behind you and pull it off. You feel exposed, but not in a bad way as his eyes take you in. His hands immediately reach for your breasts, cupping them in those large palms.

“Perfect.” He breathes, staring down at you intensely.

You trail your hands up his arms, letting them slide over his shoulders. “Not as perfect as you.”

He lets you pull him down, your lips meeting once more. It feels more aggressive this time, something having shifted as tongues and teeth clash. You know he’s feeling it too, the drive between you to get closer.

His lips trail down your throat, teeth scraping against your skin as he works his way down your body. His fingers curl under your waistband, tugging your pants and underwear off. You let your knees fall open, exposing yourself completely to him. He kneels on the floor, leaning over the side of the bed as he stares at your slick folds.

Bless him, he’s probably never been this close to a woman before.

You take his hand, showing him what to do, how to touch you, where to touch you. You’re already plenty wet in anticipation, aiding his fingers as he presses them into you. It’s a tight fit already. You have some work to do.

His mouth replaces his fingers on your clit, tongue circling just as his fingers had. You’re a moaning mess, dripping all over his fingers as he works three of them into you. You need the stretch if you’re going to take him. You haven’t seen him yet, but you have felt it. You’ve never had anything that big inside you. You’ve never had anything but your own fingers inside you.

He’s ruined you completely, and he’s only had his fingers in your pussy.

Not that you’re about to complain.

Your first orgasm washes over you unexpectedly. It hits you suddenly, his fingers pressing against everything inside of you as his tongue flicks across your clit. You squeeze his fingers, head falling back with a cry of his name. You’re trembling, hips jerking against his face. He keeps going, overstimulation beginning to burn through you a bit.

“Okay, okay.” You tap the top of his head and he stops, looking up at you. “Gimme a minute.”

You flop back against the bed, breathing out a curse as he pulls his fingers from you. His hands smooth over your thighs, fingers leaving a trail of wetness against your skin.

“What was that?” He asks sweetly, innocently.

“You made me cum on your first attempt at eating pussy.” You say, leaning up on your elbows again. “You should be proud.”

“Can we do that again?” He grins.

You nod. “Yeah, but you’re gonna cum too this time.” You motion at him. “Pants off.”

He stands, sliding his blacks down his legs. You gulp, taking in the sheer girth of him. He’s not so much long, as he is thick. You’re not sure how exactly that’s going to fit inside you, but you’re determined.

You slide off the bed, steadying yourself on your still trembling legs. “On the bed.” You direct him.

He lays on his back, his hard cock laying against his stomach. You crawl over him, wrapping a hand around his length. It’s so big your fingers almost don’t touch, hot and heavy in your hand. Kriff, you can do this. You run your hand along him a couple times, watching his head fall back, his chest rising and falling.

You debate making him cum just like this. You’d love to watch him but you want him inside you when it happens.

You shift yourself over him, lifting up on your knees as you line him up. His hands slide up your thighs, holding you steady as you press him into you. He’s so thick, burning as you stretch around him. You go slow, easing him into you.

You fit him in all the way. It’s a stretch, a little painful. You can feel him, every inch of him inside you. You look down, your stomach bulging a bit.

Kriff.

You brace your hands on his stomach, his hands still holding your hips. His eyes are hooded, staring up at you. You feel alive, every nerve ending on fire as you finally connect fully with each other.

“Kriff, Wrecker.” You breathe, beginning to rock your hips. “So big.”

“You can take it.” He groans, using his hands to help you move. “Look at you. So beautiful, mesh’la.”

The word sends shivers down your spine. It hadn’t taken long for the web group to discover the clones’ use of Mando’a words. Brave souls had gotten translations, providing the group with common words and their meanings. Hearing the word from Wrecker’s mouth, though, is something else entirely.

Better than you could have ever imagined.

You bounce on top of Wrecker, working his thick length in and out of you. He hits every spot inside of you, your legs already shaking in pleasure. You know he’s close, his grip around your hips tight as he grunts and moans.

“Fuck, Wrecker,” You moan, slipping a hand down to rub your clit. “I want you to cum inside me. Fill me up,” You babble, getting close to the edge already with how the head of his cock pushes against that spot inside you with every thrust. “Fill me up till I’m overflowing!”

Your words cut off in a cry as he thrusts his hips up, meeting your own thrusts. You cum with an incoherent stream of expletives and his name, soaking his stomach. He cries out, shoving his hips against yours as he twitches inside you, pressure building as his cum fills you even more.

You collapse against his chest, slick and sticky from sweat and fluids. He’s still partially inside you, some of his cum being forced out by the spasms still trembling through your body. You can hear the steady beating of his heart against your ear, his hands sliding against your back as he wraps his arms around you.

“Kriff.” You breathe, pressing a kiss to his chest.

“I could get used to that.” He says, tightening his grip around you.

You smile, patting his chest. “Gimme a few minutes. Maybe a nap too.”

You go to slide off his chest to lay against his side but he stops you, holding his arms tight around you to keep you still. “No,” He says. “Stay right here.”

“But what if I crush you?” You ask, attempting to lift your head to see his face.

He laughs, loud and happily. “You’ll have to try a lot harder than this.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead as you relax back against him. Maybe you won’t need a bigger bed after all.