#the bad batch self insert

[rexscanonwife]

The ‘cat batch’ AU by @/cloneenthusiast has me feeling some type of way and I couldn’t rest until I drew doggirl Brea for catboy crosshair 😳❣ so...nya I guess!

[nahoney22]

I got a fun request for wrecker. nsfw number five and enemies to lovers number two. please combine as you see fit and for your own personal entertainment. Any rating is acceptable, because I saw the lines and said “that’s perfect! We never see Wrecker angry enough to yell.”

Under my Skin*** 🌊

🫧 Pairing: Wrecker x Female Reader

word count: 2.9k

prompts:

“What’re you staring at?” / “You, is that a problem?”

“Fuck you.” / “Say the time and place.”

After being stranded in the middle of nowhere, yourself and Wrecker find yourselves staying at an inn for the night. And after some harsh truths, you both can’t resist the magnetic pull of each other anymore.

warnings: NSFW, 18+. Enemies to lovers, arguing, one bed trope, first kiss, rough kissing, neck kissing, praises, dirty talk, clit play, explicit sexual content and language, abrupt ending, not proofread.

authors note: sorry for the wait @gokyacetakal , I hope this is okay? Enjoy 🫧🩵

Your luck seemed cursed sometimes, and today was no exception. Despite your repeated warnings, Wrecker insisted on his reckless plan. The outcome? Being stranded on a barren planet with the person you despised most in the galaxy: Wrecker.

Some might find it strange to dislike someone like Wrecker, but his incessant protective instincts, especially towards you, were infuriating. You were highly trained in combat, technology, first aid, bomb disposal—everything needed to be a soldier. Yet, he constantly overshadowed you.

“Explain to me why you couldn't just listen, Wrecker? Just this once!” you growled, surveying the desolate landscape, the cold sand sifting through your fingers as the moon cast its pale light on both of you.

“If we had taken your route, we'd be dead. I saved your life,” he scoffed, folding his massive arms across his chest, staring everywhere but at you.

You smirked bitterly. “If we had taken my route, we wouldn't have been ambushed by those raiders. We would have stayed undercover, avoided open terrain, and reached the rendezvous point unscathed. But no, you charged in like a Rancor, turning us into sitting ducks.”

He shifted uncomfortably, clearly aware you were right, and it irked him.

With a deep sigh, you grabbed your supplies and backpack, and started walking ahead, leaving Wrecker behind.

“Where are you going?” he called after you.

“To find out where we are and, ideally, get some food and shelter. Feel free not to follow,” you retorted, not even glancing back. But judging by the large shadow that soon appeared beside you, he did, much to your annoyance.

The walk was silent, the tension between you both thick and uncomfortable. The moon's dim light made the barren landscape appear even more haunting. Every step you took felt weighted by unspoken words and simmering anger.

Then, pain shot through your legs. You grunted, trying to conceal it, but the shin splints slowed you down considerably.

“Why are you slowing down?” Wrecker asked, his voice gruff beside you.

“It’s... nothing,” you sighed, adjusting your slipping backpack. “Just getting tired.”

“Lazy.”

“Shut up.”

You continued for a few more klicks, but the pain became unbearable. You had to stop, bending over to massage your shins in a futile attempt to ease the discomfort. Wrecker halted next to you, raising an eyebrow. “Shin splints?”

You remained silent for a moment, quietly impressed he recognised it immediately. Seeing no point in lying, you nodded.

“I’d give you a stim, but we’re out,” he muttered, waiting for you to compose yourself. As you took a step, you cried out in pain, nearly collapsing.

Wrecker quickly grabbed your arm, steadying you. “Easy there.” His voice is somewhat soft and you can’t help but feel the warmth of his touch on your skin.

Begrudgingly, you muttered a small, “Thanks.” You correct your posture and he lets go, making you suddenly feel cold. Strange.

In the distance, you spotted some lights, suggesting the possibility of a village or settlement. But given your condition, you weren’t sure you could make it.

“Wrecker, look over there,” you said, nodding towards the lights. He followed your gaze, his eyes narrowing as he confirmed the sight.

“I see it,” he replied, his voice gruff but attentive.

“You need to go and ask for help. Tell them what happened,” you urged, wincing as you shifted your weight to alleviate the pain in your shins.

He turned back to you, his expression softening as he read the pain etched on your face. “I’m not leaving you out here alone,” he said firmly. “I’ll carry you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and discomfort. “No. Definitely not.” You shook your head vigorously, horrified at the thought of being carried like a child.

“We don’t have time to argue about this,” he grunted, his resolve unwavering as he stepped closer. “I’m carrying you.”

Before you could protest further, Wrecker slipped an arm under your legs and another around your waist, lifting you effortlessly into a bridal carry. His strength was incredible, and despite your initial resistance, you couldn’t help but feel a grudging gratitude.

The darkness of the night mercifully hid your flustered expression as your hands instinctively wrapped around the back of his neck for support, his grip on you secure.

"Don't drop me," you muttered, trying to mask your discomfort with a touch of humour.

He hums softly with amusement, the sound resonating in his chest. "No promises."

The lights in the distance grew brighter as Wrecker continued his determined trek with you in his arms . Each step he took seemed to bring a little more assurance that you would find safety, help and to get in contact with the others.

You didn’t know how long Wrecker had been carrying you, but the silence between you had grown deafening. The rhythmic sound of his footsteps against the sand and your own breathing seemed amplified in the stillness of the night.

Somehow, you found yourself gazing up at Wrecker. Your eyes traced the lines of his scarred face and his battered ear, remnants of countless battles and skirmishes.

“What are you staring at?” he grumbled, catching you off guard. His gaze remained fixed ahead, his voice a low rumble.

You glanced away briefly before meeting his eyes again. “You. Is that a problem?”

“Yeah, it’s annoyin’,” he muttered. Despite his gruff tone, you caught a flicker of insecurity crossing his face, a fleeting moment of vulnerability.

Personally, though you would never admit it to him, you thought his scars were fascinating. They told stories of resilience and survival. Of course, earning them undoubtedly would’ve been painful, but you couldn’t help but silently admire them.

“Nothing else to look at around here,” you mutter, gesturing to the barren landscape with a small, wry smile. The desolation of the planet offered no distractions, just endless stretches of sand and rock.

Wrecker huffed, his expression softening just a touch. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

After what felt like an eternity, the lights of the settlement finally grew close enough to reveal its source. A small, ramshackle village emerged from the darkness, an assortment of durasteel structures and flickering holosigns offering you both shelter for the night.

Wrecker carried you through the dusty streets, you shifting in his arms as onlookers gave you both curious glances. “How abou’ that one?” He nods to an inn with a flickering neon sign. It was almost rubble but if it gives you a place to rest, it was perfect.

Inside, the innkeeper, a grizzled old Twi'lek, eyed you both warily but softened when he saw your obvious fatigue and Wrecker’s determined expression.

He lets you down carefully and both of you pooled your remaining credits, just enough for a single room. As the Twi'lek handed you the fob, he mentioned an unfortunate detail.

“Only one bed in there,” he said gruffly. “Take it or leave it.”

You glanced at Wrecker, your annoyance bubbling up again. “Great. Just great.”

Wrecker shrugged, surprising you with his clearly unfazed look. “Better than nothin’.”

Luckily the room was just down the hall so you could just about walk, or should you say ‘hobble’, towards the room.

It was small and sparsely furnished, with a single, surprisingly large bed taking up most of the space. You dropped your gear near the door before turning to look at the bed with your hands on your hips.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” you declared.

“Don’t be dumb,” Wrecker replied, setting his gear down and peeling off his armour. “We can share the bed. It’s big enough.”

You shot him a look with wide eyes. “Not happening.”

Wrecker’s eyes darkened with irritation. “Why do ya have to make everything so difficult?”

“Why do you always have to be the hero?” you snapped back, the frustration you’d been holding back for so long spilling out. “It’s like you think I’m incapable of handling myself. I’m trained, Wrecker. I can fight, I can think, I can take care of myself.”

His brow furrowed, confusion and irritation mingling on his face. “I know you can handle yourself. I’m just tryin’ to keep ya safe.”

“By constantly overshadowing me? By making decisions for me? Do you know how frustrating it is to have someone always step in like I’m some… some…helpless rookie?” you retorted, your voice rising as your hand flailed in the air. “I joined this squad to make a difference, not to be protected like some fragile thing.”

He rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his bread chest. “Maybe if you weren’t so stubborn and actually worked with me for once instead of against me, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” he shot back, stepping closer. The glow from the room's dim light fixture cast long shadows on his rugged features.

“I’m not against you, Wrecker. I’m against you treating me like I’m less capable. Like I’m not part of this team. You don’t trust my judgment. You didn’t listen to me back there, and now we’re stuck on this kriffing planet,” you shouted, the words pouring out in a torrent of pent-up anger and hurt.

“Fine, you want the truth?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, like the rumble of an approaching sandstorm. “I don’t want ya to get hurt. You might not see it but I do; you put yourself at risk way too many times.”

The intensity of his admission took you aback, but your anger still simmered beneath the surface. “And you don’t? I don’t need a savior, Wrecker. I need a partner. Someone who respects my abilities and trusts me to do my part.”

Wrecker sighed heavily and rubbed the side of his temple, clearly getting a headache. “Whatever. We’ll talk about this another time. So stop actin’ like a brat and lay in bed.”

“You’re the kriffing brat,” you grumbled, looking away from him, but he heard you.

“Fuck you,” he finally snapped, his chest heaving with barely restrained emotion.

You had never heard or seen him swear like this before. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t rage. It was something more complex, something that made something in you snap as well. Without really thinking about it, you retorted, “Say the time and place.”

You both stilled, your breaths echoing around the small room as the weight of what you’d said settled in. His jaw clenched, and that unreadable look intensified in his eyes. Meticulously, he slid one glove off, his movements slow and deliberate. “Alright. How about right here?”

Your eyes widened, but you didn’t deny him. Words stuck in your throat as you watched him slide the other glove off before he had you backing up into the wall. “Right now.”

“W-Wrecker… I…”

You couldn’t stop the soft, muffled whine that escaped against Wrecker’s lips as he kissed you, hot, messy, and slightly aggressive. But you welcomed it, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Your eyes fluttered closed as he backed you up against the wall with a thud.

Subconsciously, you tilted your head, allowing one of his large hands to slide up to the nape of your neck, cupping it firmly and keeping you close. His lips worked expertly against yours, slick with spit as he pried your mouth apart and slipped his tongue inside which made your core pang with a heat.

“Mmmm,” you moaned softly into his mouth, going numb against his body. The kiss was fierce, full of pent-up frustration and longing, and it consumed you both. His free hand gripped your waist, and you found your legs spreading open when his hot, wet muscle danced with yours. The kiss deepened, becoming a battle of tongues and teeth for dominance while simultaneously giving in to the other.

His other hand moved to your hip from your neck, pulling you even closer, and you could feel the hard planes of his body pressed against yours. You tug on his under armour and you feel a large smirk tug on his lips before he breaks the kiss, pulling himself out of his clothes where your eyes almost bulge out of your head at the sight of his large, bare muscular chest. “Wow.” You mutter to yourself, breathless.

“Like what you see, pretty girl?” He tilts his head down at you, taking your hand and placing it against his sturdy abdomen.

You swallow, feeling your panties getting increasingly wetter as your fingers trace across his bare skin. “Uh-huh.”

Wrecker then lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he carried you to the bed. The galaxy seemed to blur as he laid you down gently, his large frame hovering over you, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

As your hands slid up his broad chest, feeling every scar and vein until they wrap around his neck, you tugged him down to you, the desire for him thick like the growing appendage in his pants. “Can I look at you?” He whispers, soft for such a big man.

You nod eagerly and allow Wrecker to slide his hands under your shirt, caressing your stomach before he helps pull your shirt over your head leaving your upper body bare apart from just a bra.

“You look so pretty, baby.” He admires, one hand cupping your breast over your bra that had you softly moaning until his fingers dug into your waist, his grip almost bruising but in a way that only makes your body tremble in pleasure.

He crawls over the top of you, stealing your lips in another deep kiss. You had broken the kiss briefly, gasping for air, but Wrecker didn’t give you much of a chance to breathe. His lips were back on yours in an instant, more insistent and demanding. The intensity of his need matched your own, and you felt yourself melting into him, “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and breathless.

You could only respond with a desperate, needy kiss, your fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him even closer than before. Wrecker's weight pressed down on you, grounding you, his warmth enveloping you completely. His hands roamed your body, memorising every curve and contour, while his lips continued their relentless assault on yours. Each kiss, each touch, was a declaration, a recognition of everything you both had kept bottled up for so long.

As he moved his lips to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, you arched into him, a soft moan escaping your lips. His name fell from your lips like a prayer and full of need.

“Wrecker…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He paused, lifting his head to look into your eyes, his gaze softening slightly as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, his tone a tender intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

In that moment, surrounded by the soft hum of the room and the distant sounds of the settlement outside, you felt something shift between you. The anger, the frustration, the tension—all of it melted away, replaced by a deep, undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore.

As Wrecker’s lips found yours once more, you felt his hand slide down your body, his touch sending electric shivers through you. His fingers found their way to the waistband of your pants, and without breaking the kiss, he slipped his hand inside. The sensation was overwhelming, and you arched into him, needing him, a gasp escaping your lips as his fingers brushed against your slick heat.

“Oh, fuck…” you moaned, your breath hitching at the sensation. His touch was both gentle and possessive, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Meanwhile, you could feel his arousal pressed against you, hard and insistent.

“Feels like you’ve been wanting this as much as I have,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

You could only nod, too overwhelmed to form words. His fingers moved with practiced skill, teasing and exploring, driving you closer to the edge with every touch.

His lips moved back to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to drive you wild with his touch and kisses. Your hands roamed his body, feeling the hard muscles beneath his skin.

Wrecker’s fingers slid down further, parting your folds and finding your clit, circling it with an expert touch that had you crying out. Your hips bucked against his hand, seeking more friction, more of the pleasure he was giving you.

“Wrecker… please…” you begged, your voice a desperate whisper.

He didn’t need any further encouragement. His movements became more urgent, his touch more demanding as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, every sensation heightened, every touch electric. “Good girl. Cum for me.”

And then, with a final, shattering kiss, he pushed you over the edge, his fingers delving deeper into your pussy as your body trembled with the force of your release. You clung to him, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your mind reeling from the intensity of it all. “That’s it sweetie, you did so well.”

As the waves of pleasure subsided, you lay there, wrapped in his arms, your bodies pressed close together. Everything outside the room suddenly felt distant and unimportant, the only thing that mattered was you two… whatever you were.

Wrecker’s eyes met yours, a mixture of satisfaction and something deeper reflected in his gaze. “I guess we don’t need to argue about the bed anymore.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, tracing a finger over his skin. “Yeah, I guess not.”

Wrecker Works

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[rosieshipper]

Because I feel like doing something like this again

Self shippers! Reblog this with a picture of your f/o (romantic, platonic, familial, etc) and I will assign them a natural phenomenon (weather, seasons, space, etc) based off of vibes

Like for example

My boy Wrecker here, I see him as a thunder storm

So feel free to reblog this with your f/os!

Proship DNI

Tags: @astralshipper @arickaandherfictionalothers @shibasparklez @wolfofthedead

[cloned-eyes]

Ever since 2020

[sorry-but-no-sorry]

Learning commun 1/2

(Haha It’s been quite a while )

[neon-junkie]

have we really got to the point in fandoms where characters can’t have partners? and people can’t self ship, even if a character has a partner?

not to be ‘fandom old,’ or bring up the ‘good old fandom days,’ but back in my day, it was encouraged for canon characters to get partners, and self shippers to continue self shipping, even if said character has a partner.

fiction is fiction, after all. it isn’t real. and there is no harm in simply having fun - for both you, and the fictional characters alike.

characters are allowed to have partners. you are still allowed to self-ship, or even pair them up with an OC. none of this is ‘real,’ so have fun, just stop being a baby if your blorbo winds up with another blorbo

[valemya]

POV: tech’s valentines gift

[im-no-jedi]

In Need of Cuddles

I'm feeling the effects of the monthly blood curse and needed some comfort, so I wrote a little something to deal with that. and because it's Wednesday, I chose the bestest sweet boy Wrecker for that 🥰

this is super short and fluffy, no warnings except for an allusion to suffering from depression 💙 also in case it wasn't obvious, this takes place in the MLWTBBverse✨

___________________________________________________________

"Knock knock!"

Hannah's attention was drawn to her front door. The familiar, boisterous voice from behind it immediately drew a smile to her face.

"Can I come in??"

"Sure," Hannah replied with a giggle.

The front door slid open to reveal the massive visage of Wrecker, who stepped into the room with all the graniose he normally had. A bag was draped over one of his shoulders, and he held a smaller bag in his other hand.

"Clank asked me to bring these up to you!" Wrecker stated as he plopped the bags onto the kitchen counter. A few fruits tumbled out and rolled across the counter, but Wrecker quickly caught them before they went too far. "Hope this is enough groceries for ya!"

Hannah let out another giggle. "I'm sure it's fine. Thanks, Big Guy."

Wrecker grinned at her, then placed the caught fruits back into their respective bags. He was about to start rummaging through one of them to search for a snack he'd brought for himself, but paused just before his hand touched the bag.

Something wasn't right.

He hadn't given much thought to it at first, but Hannah hadn't moved from her spot on the couch since he'd come in. Normally, she would either come over and start unloading groceries right away, or she would give him a little welcome hug. As far as he knew, Hannah wasn't sick or hurt, but maybe he was wrong.

"You doin' ok, Hannah?" Wrecker gently asked.

Hannah gave him a clearly forced smile and replied, "oh, I'm fine. Just... tired today, that's all."

Wrecker's brow turned down. It wasn't unusual for Hannah to hide her true feelings, especially when she wasn't feeling well. And although it was frustrating to deal with, Wrecker knew that was just how she processed certain things. Luckily, he had a knack for picking up on others' emotions, so it wasn't too hard to suss out that she was holding something back.

"Ya sure?" Wrecker began to step closer to the couch. "Cause you're not acting right. To me, anyway."

Hannah let out a small sigh and shook her head. "Sometimes I forget how empathetic you are, Big Guy."

"That's the word that means you can feel other people's feelings, right?"

Hannah nodded with a small chuckle.

"I thought I felt somethin' off about you!" Wrecker came right up to Hannah and bend down closer to her. "You're not sick, are ya?"

Hannah shook her head in response.

"Are ya hurt?"

Hannah shook her head again.

"Did ya get in a fight with Hunter?"

Hannah once again shook her head, this time with a snicker.

"So... what's up then? You can tell me."

A grateful smile spread on Hannah's face, and her eyes began to well with emotion. She let out a shaky sigh before she spoke. "I'm just... do you ever just randomly get sad? Like, for no reason?"

Wrecker thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I only get sad if I see or think about somethin' sad. Like, sometimes when I think about losin' Lula or... ya know, when Kamino went..." He made a noise replicating an explosion and spread his hands out for emphasis.

"Yeah, same. But... sometimes I just... I get sad, and I don't even know why. And it makes my body tired, and I can't make myself do anything. It's kinda like being sick, but not."

"Sick with sadness?"

Hannah managed a laugh. "Kinda, yeah."

Although he didn't understand how such a thing could happen, Wrecker couldn't help but feel complete compassion for his dear friend.

"Aww, Hannah..." Wrecker sat down beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry... is there anything I can do for ya?"

Immediately after touching her, Hannah's eyes began to well up more and a sniffle escaped her nose. "I don't know, I just... I'm just..."

As soon as the first cry came out of Hannah, Wrecker threw his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. "Aww, don't cry, Hannah! It's ok!"

Hannah's cries morphed into small sobs as she clung to Wrecker's massive figure. Her face buried into his chest, and her whole body shook as she cried. Wrecker could only hold her, firmly but gently, as he let her get her emotions out.

Eventually, Hannah's cries turned into just small sniffles, and Wrecker used that opportunity to offer her a tissue. He pet her head as she blew her nose, then moved his hand to gently rub her back.

"Ya feel better now?" he asked, still gentle as ever.

"A bit, yeah," Hannah answered with another sniffle. "Guess I just needed a good cry."

"And a good hug!"

Hannah let out one of her signature resounding laugh. "From you? Always."

At that, Wrecker pulled her in again, making more laughs come out of her. "Glad I could help! I hate seein' ya so sad!"

Hannah's arms tightly wrapped around Wrecker's waist, and she nuzzled into his chest once again. "You definitely helped. Thanks, Big Guy."

"Anything for you, Hannah!"

"You're too sweet," Hannah said with a giggle. She sighed and continued, "I think sometimes I just need some good ol' affection like this."

Wrecker let out a chuckle that rumbled through Hannah's whole body. "Well, whenever Hunter's not around to give ya some, I'll gladly give it to ya myself!"

Once again, Hannah let out a boisterous laugh, loud enough that even Wrecker could feel it. "And I'm perfectly fine with that!"

[rexscanonwife]

'Are we allies or enemies?

This will be the death of me

All is fair in love and war but I can't fight with you anymore

This will be the death of me'

I've been wanting to talk more about Crosshair and Brea's relationship for a WHILE now, but I never really found the 'right' time (in my silly brain) I guess you can say they...know each other very well! As you can imagine it's filled with drama, romantic tension, and lots and lots of angst! 0u0 a little more info + textless illustrations under the cut ♡♡♡

Sooooo, I tend to think of this as sort of an AU! If I'm being SUPER duper canon-compliant with my self ship lore it's not really the focus, but if I play around with timeline a little bit I can come up with this. Brea is a newly knighted Jedi, having just passed the trials, and despite holding rank in the Clone Wars she's not a general because she has no battalion. HOWEVER, there is a band of misfits that have been sort of running around doing their own thing, going where needed, sort of the way she does. The idea is what if for a short time she was the BAD BATCH'S Jedi?

In this scenario, the boys are a bit reluctant to take orders from her because they don't believe they NEED a Jedi. They're not really about rules and protocol and mandates...but they soon find out that neither is Brea! She's perfect for them, she matches their energy and allows them to make decisions the way they want. They all become very close...except for Crosshair, who still doesn't trust her. He only trusts his brothers, everyone else is an outsider.

I'll probably talk about it more later, but she does something or other that proves her care for them as individuals and one thing leads to another, Crosshair and Brea are something of an item. Not a couple per se, but FAMILIAR if you know what I mean. However, it's because of Crosshair's emotional constipation that it doesn't really go further than that, and it's ALSO because of his emotional constipation that things start to change between them! And when you bring Brea's new Padawan Kepler into the mix, things go very sour very quickly.

To make a long story short, Crosshair burns his bridge with Brea long before he joins the empire and he didn't even know it. By the time he does, she's moved on and is in love with a certain other clone! All of that is more stuff to talk about another time though ^ 0 ^ if you've read all this thank you so much and ilysm! 🫶🫶🫶

Taglist���: @me-myself-and-my-fos @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @sunstar-of-the-north @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @changeling-selfship @crushes-georg @miutonium @cherry-bomb-ships @rosieaurora @rejaytionships @sunflawyer @in-true-blue-love @tropicalgothships @little-miss-selfships @hotrodharts @cupiidzbow @frozenhi-chews @limey-self-inserts @candyheartedchy

[moonfur02]

I just think he's neat :)

uh don't mind the way he looks, I'm still trying to figure out how to draw and color him

anyway funny text screenshots below the cut that are technically relevant

[moonstrider9904]

Since you came around

Art of Crosshair with my newest OC named Nea, who is a pure self-insert, so essentially, this is an art piece of Crosshair with me 💖

[stressandemotionaltrauma]

HEY

Tell me all about your Star Wars OC's/Self-inserts. Give me the lore, the headcanons, the tea, all of it! But expect me to do the same.

Info dump to me cause I love it but don't be a dick about it. ❤️

[rosieshipper]

Just wanting to make this post for some super niche self shippers

But if any of y’all self ship with the bad batch or any clones for that matter please reblog this with which clone you like so that I can have some mutuals to follow and gush with about our clone f/os!

And just to start out, this is my husband Wrecker!

[sorry-but-no-sorry]

Learning commun and a name 2/2

Note: first the topic of paper, I know paper existed in the Star Wars universe but it’s rarely used and again I’m basing myself mostly of the CW/tbb show. I also like the dynamic of what is considered Primitive vs high technology and considering Tech was born with a tablet in his hands, he might have seen files about paper but could have never physically interacted with it, let me be the boomer in this au.

Secound Topic, my name, I don’t like to use my own name, because reasons, so I really needed to find a loophole

[snaggie-t00th]

hey what if i

that'd be so crazy right

ch 1 。・°°・

gender neutral pronouns, no use of y/n, clones know mando'a, crosshair doesn't turn, no beta we die like tech.

The sun had begun to slump lazily in the sky. Outcroppings of clouds blotted around it, allowing the rays to gleam down rather than the barrage of heat from early this morning. Hues of bronze and amber were slathered across the atmosphere, partly due to the dust in the air. Here past the city limits, one became acutely aware of the planet’s true climate. Roves of sand and limestone were all the eye would be met with for miles. Large, twisted succulents shot randomly out of the ground, their insides bitter and viscous with water from a long many cycles ago. The stubborn fauna was a mirror image of the people that inhabited this planet. Fierce and unyielding, hoarding what little resources are to be found, if only to assure survival for longer than tonight.

While the sun had dipped in severity, your emotions seemed to not get the memo. In fact, your heart was rattling your ribcage and wracking your nervous system. In a matter of hours you had your first customers in days, albeit shallow pocketed, and instead of doing the proper salesperson-like thing and talking Echo down to another product, you ran his pockets and asked him out.

And he said yes.

Well, not in those words. But it wasn’t a No. Or a Sure, why not. And that’s more than enough for you.

Unbeknownst to you, Echo was relying on the speeder handlebars in front of him to maintain his grip on reality.

Echo tried not to get his hopes up whenever he noticed wandering eyes on him in the past. He’d said it jokingly, but he wasn’t kidding when he’d said he was just happy you weren’t looking at him in disgust.

Or worse, someone to pity.

You hadn’t given him the sad eyes when you noticed his metal arm and scomp. You hadn’t given him the sad eyes when you noticed his gait on the way to the counter. Hell, you didn’t even make mention of the piece wrapping around his skull. He didn’t even have to ask.

And now you were wrapped around his back, pushing your weight into him as he ripped across the wastes. Your arms were slinked around his core, hands folded and your pinky ghosting across the tip of his navel. While Echo’s own hands on the speeder was his current tether to reality, the warmth of your hands was equally coaxing him back out. Coaxing him backwards to rest his shoulder blades on your chest, coaxing him to let go of the handlebars, coaxing him to close his eyes, savor the moment. But he doesn’t. The same steadfast, battle-tested resolve that made him an ARC Trooper, all of that resolve, is being called upon at this moment.

Echo flicked the gear shift forward and pressed his foot down evenly, eyes honing in on the gray dot of the Marauder coming into view on the horizon. You gripped tighter with the increase in speed, and Echo’s cheeks got warm. Omega tailed closely behind.

Earlier, before the three of you had broken the city limits, Echo gave you the rundown of his ragtag family.

Tech. Wrecker. Hunter. Crosshair.

You mentally listed the members of the Batch, trying your absolute best to commit them to memory. It’ll be a lot easier once you actually see them, trust me. Echo’s words rang through your head, a metaphysical balm to your mild-yet-steadfastly brewing social anxieties.

A loud, metallic groan roused you from your thoughts. The ramp of the Marauder began to descend, and an overwhelmingly large figure appeared at the lip of the ramp.

“9-1 odds, that's Wrecker?” You call out loudly, desperate to be heard over the speeder engine. Before Echo could respond, a surly, thickly accented voice cut through the air.

“What stray did you bring in from the rain this time, eh Echo?!”

“You would be correct.” Echo glances over his shoulder at you, before turning back and calling out to his brother. “Adoption is Hunter’s speciality. Is your chip acting up again?” Wrecker answered with a barking laugh, walking off the ramp that is now level with the planet’s surface.

Echo brought the bike to a rolling stop, the engine softly tut-tut-ing before being kicked off. Omega came up beside the two of you, parking respectively. Echo stepped off the bike and stuck his hand out for you, while Wrecker came over and swooped Omega off the bike and onto his shoulders. You coyly took his hand. “Still keeping up this smooth charade?” You chide, throwing your leg over the bike and pulling yourself up with his assistance.

“Charade? Now that’s just rude.” Echo stuck his nose up, fake indignantly.

You grin, leaning into the bit. “Oh my, how may I make up for this transgression Milord?”

Wrecker and Omega watched on with shit eating grins. Neither of them were going to be the ones to break the moment, nor were they going to be the ones to tell either of you about the matching blush the two of you were wearing.

“I’m sure I’ll find a remedy in time, fret not serf.” Echo smiled as he stuck his elbow out for you to take.

“Serf? I’ll have you know my father was a knight!” It was your turn to act fake indignant, huffing and whipping your head away from Echo. Both of you erupted into laughter at the shared moment, closing in on the ramp.

Unbeknownst to you, Hunter was in the hallway, up the ramp and around the corner, a soft smile stitching its way onto his face. He, like Wrecker and Omega, was deeply enthused about his brother’s stroke of luck with you. Hunter had heard the two of you before you’d arrived, his acute senses hearing the rumblings a few klicks away.

Hunter decided to make his presence known, slipping out of the shadows and into the main doorway.

“What’s this about me adopting someone else?” Hunter says, eyes casually shifting about the group, seeming to do a mental headcount.

“Well I’m terrible with a blaster, but I can sell exhaust pipes something fierce!” You reply sarcastically, and you offer your name and a handshake. Instead, the clone claps your forearm and shakes it once. You follow the motion, entirely through muscle memory, clapping his forearm with similar force. A soft smile sits on your face at the gesture, it was something you hadn’t done in a few cycles at this point.

“Hunter, though I’m sure Echo’s filled you in already.” He offers a pleasant smile, now more curious about the stranger aboard his ship.

“He’s only given me names.” You shrug. “But, I’ve run into two of you now, and it’s a 50/50 on whether or not your moniker’s obscenely obvious. So I think I’ll be okay.” You finish the statement with a soft, mildly forced laugh, hoping to make it as obvious as possible that you’re joking.

I just made sure Echo can kinda stand my presence, I can’t have his brother be the hard sell now.

Hunter nods and closes his eyes with a soft chuckle. “You got nothing to worry about, kid. None of us bite.”

“Except maybe Crosshair.” Three separate voices say at the same time.

Laughter erupts from the hallway and cockpit. From the gunner’s nest, a hissing grimace. Hunter beckoned Wrecker and Omega into the cockpit, nodding to you and Echo as he went. The aforementioned biter slunk his way down the ladder and towards the cockpit, casting nary a glance to the new person aboard the Marauder. A toothpick flew from in front of him, twirling in the air nonchalantly before sticking upright in a crack between the durasteel paneling of the floor. Your eyes honed in on it.

“He won’t actually bite you, but good luck getting more than three words that aren’t snarky outta the vod.” Echo spoke quietly and clasped a hand between your shoulder blades, noting your gaze. “I wouldn’t let him.” He said even quieter, barely above a hum.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Once again, Echo’s simple words are a balm for mental wounds he did not cause, and completely unintentionally. You relax your shoulders, and pull them in a circle.

“So, Tech’s left, right?”

Echo nodded, and gestured with his scomp for you to lead the way. You obliged, and went up the stairs. Through a small hallway filled with a myriad of colors and buttons, you led the two of you into the cockpit.

A somewhat larger space opened up, with similar durasteel walls peppered with buttons and lights. However bulletproof panes of glass took up a majority of the wall space, looking out at the expanse of the wastes. It made the desert look even more swallowing, seeing it from a slight elevation. Nothing else for miles and miles had the view you did right now. Something about Desert Fever slung its way through your brain, some whispers you had barely overheard from stallworkers about afflicted moisture farmers on the outskirts.

“Also colloquially known as desert mania, desert fever is usually characterized with bouts of irrational behaviors and depressive episodes, as a result of the absolute nothing around you. Some hypothesize it to be an amalgamation of chronic understimulation.” A tall clone materialized next to you from the pilot’s chair.

“That was supposed to be internal, my bad. I take it you’re Tech?” You say sheepishly, rubbing a hand on your neck as you extend the other, introducing yourself.

“You are correct. Pleasure.” He replies, holding his hand up softly as to say None for me, thanks in response to your hand out. You quickly pulled it back to your side, eyes flicking to Echo behind you for mild reassurance.

Getting the message, he cleared his throat. “Where’s everyone finding themselves tonight?”

“Hunter’s busying himself inventorying the supplies brought in, Crosshair is brooding on top of the ship, and Wrecker and Omega are outside testing her ability to detonate multiple delayed explosions.” Tech replied curtly, understanding Echo’s meaning instantly. “I will retire to the bunks if you need me. I have my holopad and charger. Kandosii, vod’ika.”

Echo’s fingers twitched at his thigh again as color shot up from his collar. “Thank you Tech!” He said, very abruptly. He politely spun you around and began to push you towards the copilot’s seat.

A part of Echo prayed you weren’t paying attention to Tech all that much.

A bigger part of him knew you understood every word thrown about.

[valemya]

What made u decide on a pink saber?

I decided on a pink saber cause it looks cool. Originally I would have gone for green or purple but one day I thought of hot pink and it hasn't left my mind since. It's my whole brand now. Also scripted I'm the only jedi in a couple hundred years to have a pink kyber crystal cause I'm that girl