I Distinctly Remember The First Time I Watched "Spoils Of War/Ruins Of War" (the Day The Episodes Aired)

Based on a little trend on Twitter 😋

Crosshair and Omega hug

Hugs! -- Crosshair isn't sure how to proceed - I imagine he'd just freeze

Love this story

Sharp Edges, Part 2 - Blind Date Gone Right

I couldn't resist picking up at the end of this blind date fic, because the Crosshair energy was just *chef's kiss*. This is smutty smut smut, with a bit of plot, and hopefully will be very satisfying. ;) Thanks to @lightwise for brainstorming a bit, and stay tuned for more parts, because there's definitely more to be written here. Also, this dives RIGHT in, so it's best to read that fic first, otherwise this is quite an abrupt start. ;)

Crosshair x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7k Content Warnings: I never know how to do these... groping, kissing, teasing, grinding, unprotected P in V. Dividers by @samspenandsword and @djarrex

Chapter 2: Blind Date Gone Right

Things were getting hot and heavy VERY quickly, so much so that you found yourself a little self-conscious out in public. You pulled Crosshair around the corner, tucking into a crevasse between two buildings and tugging him back against you. He was a formidable force, a burning passion with a knife’s edge, and you were lost in him. He reached under your shirt, and you sucked in a sharp breath, pressing your forehead to his as his hand teased along the underwire of your bra. He breathed a single chuckle, dropping his lips to yours yet again as his hand grew firmer, pushing up the bra cup and cupping the breast underneath. He gave it just enough of a squeeze that it would have hurt if he’d gone any further, but as it was, it was driving you mad. It conveyed possession and power, and you were in just the mood for the energy he was bringing. As his thumb brushed across your nipple, timed perfectly with the gentle tug on your lip from his soft mouth, you made up your mind. 

“Listen,” you gasped, pushing on his hand with your own, through your shirt, to stop his movement for a second, “You’re not gonna have me in some random alleyway.” 

Crosshair exhaled through his nose in what probably passed as a laugh for him, standing up and reclaiming his hand. “Fair enough. But I’m gonna have you?” he provoked, tilting his head slightly so your mouths were inches apart. The heat and desire radiating off of him was palpable, and you began to rethink your declaration to move this elsewhere, but shook the thought away. 

“My place isn’t far…” you murmured against his lips, feeling slightly vulnerable at the invitation when all the interaction so far had been swapping little barbs. His response was to run a hand down your side and under your thigh, gripping it and lifting it to his hip, leaning into you again. Stars, you were in trouble. He kissed you again, lingering this time, and you could feel his hard length pressing into you through your clothes. 

“Lead the way,” he said, releasing you so suddenly that you thought you’d fall, except he was so close, one arm wrapping around your waist as you headed for your apartment. 

The door opened to your place, dark and quiet, with an expansive view of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows across your living room. It was plain, minimally decorated, and highly focused on functionality, although there were little trinkets that showed your personality peppered throughout. They were usually missed by the casual observer, however, and you liked it that way. You dropped your keys into the box by the door, kicking off your shoes, and walked in a few steps. Crosshair followed, scanning the room quickly before closing the door behind him, and you turned to face him, trying to decide how this would go. 

Should you jump him right there? Should you take a shower first? Have some conversation? Offer him a drink? The change in scenery had put a slight damper on the heat of the moment, and you felt thrown off balance. Crosshair, however, seemed as unruffled as ever, slowly lowering his coat down his arms and laying it over the back of a nearby chair. When he came back toward you, the slight lowering of his chin and the smoldering intensity in his eyes sent a burst of heat straight between your legs, and you felt adrift no longer. 

In two short steps, he was upon you, lifting you onto the kitchen counter and pressing himself against you again. You wrapped your legs around his waist, yearning for every inch of your bodies to be touching, and dug your fingers into his hair as you kissed him again. His nose smashed against your cheek as his hands slid under your shirt, pulling it upward. You lifted your arms above your head, hair scattering over your shoulders as it came free of the clothing, and Crosshair tossed it to the side, tracing his fingers across the curving tops of your breasts. His rhythm was tantalizing… hot, heavy, and passionate, then pulled back, teasing, enticing… 

He lowered his head to your neck, kissing and sucking now, which made you flinch and giggle involuntarily as his lips closed around a ticklish spot. It was starkly out of character for you so far, and he pulled back in surprise, meeting your eyes. The soft expression of bemusement on his face was unfathomably tender, warming you to the core and fanning the flame of your desire even more. You kissed his mouth, his cheek, his jawbone, his ear, and a quiet, guttural moan escaped him as you clenched your fists around his silvery locks. Now it was his turn to undress as you tugged on his gray sweater, messily pulling it over his head, feeling your heart thrill at the sight of his perfectly-smoothed hair re-emerging as a tousled mess. His undershirt was tucked into his pants, secured with a classy, simple belt, and you bit your lip impatiently, fumbling with the buckle at his waist. 

“Well aren’t you in a hurry…” he said finally, voice hoarse with arousal. You stopped, meeting his gaze evenly, even now captivated by the ridiculously sexy curve of his intense eyes. 

“What, do you want to sit and talk about feelings first?” you countered, and he smiled, more of a genuine smile than you’d seen all night, then leaned forward to graze his fingers along the edges of your bra cups again, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“I just didn’t think the kitchen was much of an upgrade from the alley.”

“Fair enough,” you said, pushing him back as you slid off the counter. You hooked a few fingers around his belt and pulled him behind you to the couch. It was your prized possession -- deep, comfortable, and spacious -- and also provided the perfect excuse to avoid bringing anyone into your own bed. You didn’t like bringing people into your bedroom; it felt like a safe place just for you. Perhaps it was one of your “weird” vulnerability things, but no one ever stuck around long enough to know that. Standing next to the couch, you tugged at his belt again, watching with lusty eyes as he smirked while he unbuckled it. His pants slid to the floor, and he kicked them off with his shoes, leaving him in a plain undershirt and boxer briefs that clung to his figure. And boy, did he have a nice figure. The coat had covered it before, but his slender thighs were more defined than you’d have guessed, and his ass was actually surprisingly grabbable, which you wasted no time in testing out. 

Reaching your arms around him and giving his butt a squeeze, he squinted at you in a judgmental way that was void of any real malice. “Enjoying yourself?” he whispered against your ear, sliding his hands to your waist, where he nimbly unbuttoned and unzipped your pants far too quickly and pushed them down your legs.

“I am, thank you,” you countered, pushing him backward to a seated position on the couch. He sprawled out cooly, knees spread, arms resting across the backrest. It was the kind of body language that was just begging you to do things to him yet appearing as though he didn’t care one way or the other. It was intoxicating and infuriating at the same time. Right up your alley. You knelt on the couch, throwing the other knee across him, and settled yourself into his lap, feeling his hardness beneath, separated only by two thin pieces of fabric. He lifted his chin toward you, still not moving his arms, thin lips pressed together below pale brown eyes that drew you in. You shifted your hips a little, resting your hands on his shoulders, intentionally grinding against him gently as you leaned forward to take his earlobe in your teeth.

A barely-concealed shudder from him felt disproportionately rewarding to you, and he moved into action. He reached one strong arm around, pulling you close in a way that made you arch your back, breasts pressing against his face. The other hand snaked up your spine, pinching the bra hooks together so accurately that they sprang apart as soon as his fingers released them. He moved his hands to your shoulders, pulling one strap down your arm and off the end of your hand, then the other, each movement a drawn-out, languorous tease. 

You sat back, looking down at him with a confidence that you’d put on for so long you didn’t know it was feigned, straddling his lap, bare before him. His eyes met yours as one hand traced feather-light circles around a nipple, which sprang to attention immediately under his tantalizing touch. Your eyes fluttered shut as he lowered his mouth, brushing his lips along your collarbone, then down your chest, exhaling gently to send a chilling sensation across your skin. He reached the opposite breast, breathing on the nipple for a second before placing his lips around it. A tiny moan escaped you, without your permission, as he gave it a light suckle, raking his teeth across it as he pulled away. It made you clench and ache between your legs. He wasn’t supposed to be slow, or gentle. You’d assumed he’d rail you against the kitchen counter and be on his way. But this… this was something else.

He leaned back, observing your face and relishing the nearly-desperate look of desire across it. One hand still traced along the underside of a breast, tickling the soft curve. It was intimate… almost too intimate, you realized, and you stood up suddenly, panties soaked. 

“Panties off, soldier,” you commanded. It had sounded sexy and playful in your head, but came out incredibly flat, and Crosshair gave you an odd look. You cringed and shrugged, hoping you hadn’t ruined the entire moment, and he slowly pushed his boxer briefs down, never taking his eyes from yours.

“Maybe it’s better if you don’t talk,” he jabbed, and you raised your eyebrows in slight shock amid taking off your own underwear. His expression was void of malice once again, however, and his shameless snark had you wanting him even more, letting out a snort as you returned to his lap. His length was pressed up between the two of you, deliciously rubbing against your clit, and you rocked your hips against him, feeling the desire build. He dug his fingers into your hair, pulling it gently and sending sparks down your spine as he tilted your head back, breathing heavily amid kisses on your neck, your shoulder, your chest… The friction was almost enough to send you over the edge by itself, and when he grabbed one breast and sucked on the other with more force than he’d yet used, you gasped, grinding against him almost desperately. 

But it wasn’t to end that way. Suddenly wrapping his arms around you, he turned and dropped you onto the couch on your back, falling on top of you messily. He was heating up too, and a light sheen of sweat was coating his back as you raked your fingertips across it. Propping himself up with one arm on either side of your head, he lined himself up with your entrance, pressing gently against it but not diving in. You were dripping wet, aching for him to fill you up and give it to you good, and you bit your lip with a breathless whine at his teasing. He leaned forward, slowly pushing his cock up along your folds, across your clit, and back down, breathing heavily with the self-control and focus it required. You felt the tension building, as though both of you were about to come undone on one another, and you were growing more and more impatient. 

You lowered your hands to his butt, digging your fingers into his cheeks and pulling him toward you, arching your back. He licked a nipple again, gently pinching the other one, then trailed kisses up your neck and across your mouth, still pressing against you. 

“Crosshair,” you breathed, with such raw vulnerability that he felt something snap inside him, and he sat up straight, looking down at you in all your glory. You didn’t know what to say, but didn’t have to find the words, as he angled himself toward your entrance and slowly slid inside, slick with arousal. You gasped at the sensation; the friction on your walls was incredible, and when he bottomed out, pressing his hips against yours, he finally let out an agonized groan that nearly sent you over the edge. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, and you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in, coaxing him to continue. 

When he opened them again, he had a chilling intensity on his face, dark eyes glimmering in the reflections of the city skyline, and he pulled back slowly before thrusting into you with more force. You gripped the cushions next to you, turning to press your face into one to muffle the string of expletives that burst out of your mouth. He grabbed your hips, looking down at where his cock disappeared into you, sliding in and out with increasing speed. The sight was almost too much, and he leaned forward, wrapping one arm under your neck and lifting your head to bury in his neck and shoulder. Your hands roved across his back, fingers digging in, scratching, pulling, inviting more of the fierce intensity he was letting out. The sound of your sweaty bodies coming together again and again, punctuated with heavy pants and moans and whispers, was growing louder, and you reached between your legs to circle your clit, feeling close to your peak. He tilted himself upward again, changing the angle, and thrust into a spot that had you seeing stars, replacing your hand with his thumb, rubbing the spot with increasing pressure. 

“Holy kriff, Crosshair,” you whimpered, gasping for breath as your eyes clenched shut. Your unhinged neediness was intoxicating, and he growled in response, muttering expletives and encouragement of his own under his breath. The tightness was building inside, absolutely dizzying in the mind-blowing sensations of what he was doing. Two more thrusts and you felt your climax release with explosive energy, cascading waves of pleasure shuddering throughout your body. You cried out, gripping his arm beside your head and the couch cushion next to you with white-knuckled desperation. His gaze raked across your body, writhing beneath him, breasts bouncing across your chest as he drove himself in and out. When his eyes reached your face, tightly clenched in pure ecstasy, it sent him over the edge, and he gripped you tightly, chasing his own release as you moaned in delight beneath him. He gasped as he came, electrified by the combination of your feral energy and your body clenching around him, and as his thrusts slowed, his mind remained abuzz with carnal pleasure. 

He slowed to a stop, lowering himself on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around him, relishing the complete oneness as he remained inside of you. It was nothing like what you’d expected, incomprehensibly intimate and connective despite the snarky fronts you’d both put up. You caressed the back of his head as it rested on your chest, tucked between your breasts, feeling the tickle of his release sneaking out between your legs. After a moment, he shifted, pulling out deliciously slowly and tucking himself between you and the couch back, pulling you against him without a word. A million questions were racing through your brain, but were also muffled, taking a backseat to the afterglow as he laid an arm around your waist, snaking it up between your breasts and taking one of your hands in his. 

The morning sun was streaming through the windows, causing Crosshair to squint the moment he woke up, sprawled across the couch in the living room. At some point, you’d pulled a light throw blanket over the two of you, and it was still tangled between his legs as he sat up, looking around with an expression of disdain and confusion on his face. He hadn’t meant to stay -- he never did -- but something about the way you’d drawn him in and left him feeling so… comfortable… had kept him from leaving. As he looked and listened for you, though, he saw the note taped to the shelf across from him. 

Off to work! That view doesn’t come cheap, you know? Anyway, I guess blind dates aren’t so bad after all. Thanks for… everything. 

It had your comm number beneath it, and he finished reading with raised eyebrows. No fawning morning full of questions about where you stood? Or thinly-veiled poking about when you’d meet again? He looked out the windows, taking in the city skyline that seemed to extend forever, and slowly got up. The details of your home weren’t lost on him, as his eagle eyes took it all in. Perhaps he would take his time getting out of there.

Read the next installment here.

No. He looks amazing. Thank you for sharing

A little portrait of Tech. Late for March 29 though.

Love this

Good start to a story

Clone x OC Week Day 1 : Introduction

Pairings: Solé x Crosshair Rating: G / SFW Words: 1,092 Warnings: Order 66 Mention, brief mentions of grief, absolute second hand embarrassment (please my girl is a disaster I love her)

Synopsis: Solé is doing her best to adjust to life on Pabu, but after her life was turned upside down by Order 66, all she finds herself wanting is to go home to Naboo. Until she meets someone who might be even more out of place than she is.

@clonexocweek Thank you for hosting this event!

Pabu was few little pieces of the familiar wrapped up in a galaxy of unknowns. She had tried to adapt. Adaption was key. With enough work to keep her busy and on the verge of exhaustion she had found a way to accept the life happening around her. For better or worse. But she couldn’t shake the sense that it still wasn’t home. It wasn’t Naboo.

With foods she understood and soil that didn’t fight her every time she tried to grow a plant. Every simple thing she had taken for granted, every smell and sound and taste, was left behind on a world she didn’t recognize while she tried to pick up the pieces of her life. Solé shook the thoughts away as she strode into the marketplace. No, here is where I am. And that’s all there was too it. The marketplace was just as unfamiliar as the rest of Pabu, a breath of Naboo whispered by in the sunshine that fell along the stalls but the wares in them, the foods and trinkets, all refugees of another world left her feeling hollow. Her appetite had been growing thinner by the day and as someone who studied nutrition and food for a living she knew she would have to put her anxieties away and at least try to eat something.

She had been on Pabu for a few weeks, thrown by earthquakes, threatened by the Empire she was trying to escape, and finally a relative peace had settled. Solé wished her shaking hands and anxious heart would see it the same way. There were more refugees now. Like her, but not like her. Clones who had been betrayed by their leaders. By their own bodies. Shep had explained it all to her when she wasn’t able to face them, clued her into the truth of what had happened when he had brought some of them to her as patients.

Soldiers, battle weary and heavy, they seemed to adapt faster than her to the light buoyant atmosphere of the island or they would shuttle off to help the cause. The cause was something so vast that Solé had trouble really imagining it. A part of her ached for it. Ached for answers to what had happened. Esteemed senator dead, chancellor so different than he appeared, and the Jedi…her heart clenched and she thought of the brother she had known as a child. Such a bright eyed boy. The galaxy was a vacuum now sucking away anything familiar and leaving her…here.

It was silly really, but Solé could almost feel it was the Force that made her look up towards that one particular stall. A slender man was standing very still in front of the stall that was selling some sort of fruit that looked deceptively familiar to her homesick heart. The man was standing with stiff shoulders, scarring on one side of his head, and though he wasn’t as sturdily built as the others she could guess right away from his military bearing that he was a clone. He was looking between the fruits, a scowl deepening the lines around his mouth and brows knit together. He picked one up with his left hand, examined it, put it back.

He looked as out of his depth as she felt on that particular afternoon. “Do you need a hand?” Solé approached on instinct, it wasn’t her way not to help someone especially if it had anything to do with food. He didn’t respond at first until Solé sidled up next to him, repeating her question.

The man turned to face her fully and a fierce blush colored her fair skin.

Hand.

He only had one. Her earlier words ricocheted around in her head like a stampeding Shaak. One eyebrow raised and his brown eyes were full of caution, if not down right irritation. Solé did what she always did during confrontation or embarrassment. She made it worse.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean a hand in that sense—I meant do you need any help? Not that I don’t believe that you’re capable of helping yourself because of your disability—“ She was willing herself to just stop talking, she really was. Whatever other gibberish passed out of her mouth was put to a mercifully abrupt stop.

“Crosshair! Did you get everything?” A young blonde girl, bounded up to him and when his attention turned Solé took it as the opportunity that it was.

She wouldn’t necessarily say she ran from the situation, but she was at her little base — she couldn’t call it home — with her back firmly pressed against the closed front door, cheeks still burning from embarrassment before the pair had been able to turn back to her. Angry tears stung the corner of her eyes and she rested her closed fist against her forehead before running the thin braid she kept in her hair between her fingers. She tried to summon up some Jedi saying, something her mother had always whispered to her in times of distress to remind her of her brother, and came up short. All she could do was resign herself to a dinner of leftovers from the conservator and try to forget today had ever happened.

By the time Solé woke up the next morning the sting of embarrassment had lessened, at least partially. She had repeated the scene in her mind enough times, assured herself that it was a perfectly understandable accident and vowed never to make eye contact with that man again. Everything was fine.

After brewing a pot of caf, pouring the hot water from her kettle slowly over the ground beans and admiring the rich scent that reminded her of a thousand late nights and early mornings, she went outside. The sun was bright and she vaguely wondered if she had overslept again when her foot hit something on her tiny garden path.

A bag.

A bag full to the brim of yellow fruits with dimpled skin. Solé stooped and spied a note tucked into one side. She drew out the piece of flimsi and unfolded it as best she could with one hand as she took a sip of the still too hot caf.

‘Looks like you were the one who needed a hand. Ironic.’ Solé’s face burned even redder than it had the day before, but this time there was a smile too.

Author's Note: I'm so excited to be posting things for Solé finally! I've been developing her as a character since November and getting to share her is so exciting! Hope you enjoyed reading their first meeting <3

Love it

Great story

Sharp Edges - Crosshair x Reader [NSFW]

Collaborative work with @lightwise... What started off as self-indulgent Crosshair smut has evolved into a fully-developed fic, with plot, character development, twists and turns, angst, yearning, and plenty of delicious *spice*. ;)

Blind Date Gone Wrong

Blind Date Gone Right

The Roof

The Nightmare

Spice and Advice

The Tattoo

Work Party, Part 1

Work Party, Part 2

Carnival Games, Part 1

Carnival Games, Part 2

Showers and Plants

The Rescue

Shots Fired, Part 1

Shots Fired, Part 2

Introductions

Clarifications

Shattered

Kintsugi

Conspiracy

Coat Dinner

Kashyyyk

Spreading Wings

Cat Breakfast

Kaller

Taking Flight

Nesting (Epilogue)

Do ya love it?? Reblog it! :D

The Impact of Tech’s Sacrifice within the Fandom

An analysis of why it sparked so much controversy and possible solutions on how that could have been avoided.

A Disclaimer about this analysis:

Before I go into detail about how Disney handled Tech’s death in both Season 2 and Season 3, I want to clearly state that I love the Bad Batch.

This story and the characters grabbed my heart instantly and S1 got me through the darkest years of my life after my brother passed way. The amount of gratitude I have for those who put this beautifully animated series goes beyond words.

My analysis isn’t an attack on the creators, writers, animators, etc. I believe that many episodes throughout all 3 seasons are some of the best written stories in all of Star Wars. The animation itself is awe inspiring and the soundtrack is a work of art.

However, one can still love a show while also having valid criticisms.

This analysis is strictly concerning the nature of Tech’s sacrifice in the series. The questions of why it happened, when it happened, how it was handled, and what was the detrimental affect on a particular group within the fan base were all factored in.

I have placed my personal feelings aside for the sake of offering a fair assessment of Tech’s sacrifice within the series. With complete neutrality, I have spent a great deal of analytical thought regarding the controversy and it has allowed me to provide a few alternate solutions to how it could have been avoided.

The heart of the debate:

After the conclusion of season 2, Tech’s sacrifice has become one of the most emotionally painful losses in all of Star Wars and started one of the most heated debates within the fandom.

Is he alive or did he really die on Eriadu? After analyzing every scene and dissecting the overall narrative within the Bad Bad Batch, there was plenty of evidence that it could be interpreted either way.

Tech’s sacrifice was undeniably heroic. He gave his life without hesitation in order to save both his squad and his family. It secured their survival and thus their eventual success in season 3. There could be no greater act of love.

Neither side of “Tech is alive or Tech needs to remain dead” would deny this.

However, the fact remains that the circumstances surrounding Tech’s sacrifice did spark debate regardless. Therefore, I’ve come up with a few possible ways that Tech’s sacrifice would have less room for speculation:

If a batch member died (permanently); placing it within in the 3rd act, not the 2nd

Having the entire Batch remain alive until they were reunited. It heals the wound of the fractured family and gives the catharsis of seeing them finally fighting together on the same side.

Having a canonically neurodivergent character, who also gets an unfinished romantic story with a WOC right before they are killed off, will always cause a deeper introspection to why they were chosen to be sacrificed. Removing all intentional/non intentional aspects of having a sacrifice interpreted as “shock value” would help alleviate that concern

The manner of which Tech died was too ambiguous for many viewers. In real life, Tech would never survive a fall from that height, but this is Star Wars. Characters survive impossible situations all the time. In order to reduce speculation when a main protagonist dies, the death needs to be clearly shown on screen. The fact that there was a huge debate after Plan 99 proves that insufficient evidence was provided

This is not a universal sentiment from all fans, but the lack of sufficient payoff or closure led many of them to believe Tech would return. They were awaiting official confirmation that was yet to be revealed in season 3 that would solidify if he was still alive or really dead

Combining all of these factors, here is how the story may have unfolded:

If the stakes needed to be raised in Season 2, having one of the main protagonists severely injured, enough to cause viewers to fear they may die, would still require the Batch going back to Ord Mantell for help with AZI.

The betrayal by Cid would still happen and Omega would still end up captured; thus leaving us with the same cliffhanger of Omega being ripped away from her family. Having a character still clinging to life and Omega being taken would certainly quantify as raising the stakes for ACT II.

As hard as it is for me to admit this, Wrecker would be the obvious pick if Tech was slated to die later in the series. This would have given Wrecker more focus for season 3 character development should he be hindered in some way after the injury.

Season 3 would start out exactly the same; the Batch hunting for Tantiss’s location and Omega. Omega would have the same time skips and bonding with Crosshair and would still escape and reunite with the Batch, Exactly as shown.

The reunion, however, would allow the entire Batch to reconcile and learn to work as a team again. Tech could have solidified whatever feelings he had for Phee during this time. The Batch would seemingly have won but trouble would still be on the horizon.

The series still goes on as originally planned, Omega would still want to free the clones they left behind on Tantiss. Since Omega and Crosshair both have knowledge of Tantiss, the Batch would all be summoned to Teth in order to aid Rex with this shadow operative. Unfortunately, this would once again place Omega and the Batch on the radar again because CX-2 would still be dispatched to Teth…etc etc.

The Batch would realize Omega was being targeted and therefore, the plot of Ventress could also carry on. (Though I’m pretty certain Tech would have known what an M-count was).

So now we get to the mid point of Season 3 where a sacrifice would have built up to a larger payoff.

The Point of No Return would be a perfect place for this option. It was the turning point to when everything goes wrong for the Batch in Season3.

By this time, the viewer has been led into a false sense of security. Having a main character death here would have proven just as shocking and emotional as it did at the season finale of season 2.

Tech and Phee would have already solidified their relationship and would have had the kind of emotional moment Kanan had with Hera had in Rebels. Tech’s death could have been just as unexpected and shocking as Kanan’s, as well as having a similar completion of his story arc.

Also, creating a Plan99 type sacrifice while on Pabu may have been able to clearly define his death unlike how he disappeared into the clouds. Omega would have still witnessed his sacrifice and the viewer would be left with zero ambiguity of whether or not he survived.

Continuing down this path, we would also see Omega’s reaction to Tech’s sacrifice just like Plan 99 and could have immediately set her towards the decision to give herself up in order protect her family and the island inhabitants. Basically two huge sacrifices happen. Stakes would have definitely be raised.

In the episode that follows, Tech would be given proper mourning; perhaps a funeral of sorts on Pabu.

Even though Omega had unfortunately returned to Tantiss, the closure in Tech’s death would have been equal to the weight of his character importance. Having his story arc with Phee resolved and seeing the Batch fight together against the Empire, may have lessened the sting of a neurodivergent character being the only one who didn’t survive after the finale.

This alternate direction in the story, would also mean that CX-2 wouldn’t be a mystery box. One would be led to believe that the shadow operative was clearly a metaphor for “What Crosshair would have Become” without having the the possibility that CX-2 could be Tech.

One could even argue that it would have created more emotional impact on the mental struggle of crosshair when the mystery box element is removed from the equation.

The rest of the season continues on as normal. No changes; not even the beautiful epilogue.

What if Plan 99 stays the same in Season 2? What other directions could be taken to avoid viewers from speculating?

How would one maintain Tech’s sacrifice; only adding slight differences that may have enhanced the narrative?

The mission at the summit could have either been a success to increase the payoff or have been given more time to ensure proper closure. This could happen in a few ways:

Tech sacrificed himself to save his family but the mission itself failed. Not having a successful payoff allows viewers to draw a conclusion that all the character buildup for Tech and the entire plot of the finale was to kill off a character to “raise the stakes.” Whether it was the intentional not to do so is irrelevant. Many in the fandom interpreted it as such.

Having some part of the “mission gone wrong” still ending with some success allows the thought of “at least this good thing happened” and the audience experiences the relief of knowing that something came from it beyond Tech’s sacrifice.

Think of Cassian and Jyn in Rogue One. Even though their sacrifice was heart wrenching, Cassian and Jyn’s sacrifice immediately led to the Death Star plans reaching Princess Leia.

Tech saved his family in Plan 99, which was heroic no doubt, but the failed mission had the viewer go through an entire third season in order to experience the payoff that the survival of his family eventually led to them defeating Hemlock and retiring on Pabu.

The second option is that if Plan 99 and the rest season 3’s plot is keep exactly as it is, to include more clear and concise emphasis on the characters grief and mourning from the remaining members. It would allow the viewers to also process the loss and grieve.

As it stood, after a few tears from Omega and a drink from Wrecker at a bar, the Batch was immediately rushed into being found by Hemlock and Omega being captured. Many complaints online stated that Tech’s death seemed like an afterthought by the end of the episode; especially after Emerie’s bombshell reveal was introduced.

Another direction one could take to alleviate any hope or confusion over Tech’s death was to remove the ambiguity. In Star Wars, having any character “fall out of sight” without being clearly dead first; especially in Star Wars, will always lead to speculation.

If Tech had experienced an ending more like Fives, the viewer witnesses his last breath and it removes all doubt that he has died.

How would any of those options look applied to the story:

Starting season 3, avoid moving straight into a time skip. This would include showing Omega telling Crosshair about Tech as well as Hunter and Wrecker telling Phee. Seeing the reactions of important people in Tech’s life, who wasn’t present during Plan 99, would allow the viewer to know how much he was missed by everyone.

Another possible scenario is a reflection scene, much like Crosshair’s moment with placing Mayday’s helmet on a makeshift memorial.

Perhaps the entire Batch standing behind Omega as she placed his Goggles in the Archium. Many in the neurodivergent community have expressed that Tech was only mentioned whenever his skills were missed. Having a few words about Tech’s character and not just his skills, may have resonated more with people who related to him. If anything, just to take some of the edge off for the families and young children watching.

Wrapping up:

This assessment was to examine how Tech’s death was handled within the season and how other directions within the story could have alleviated some of the speculation and dissonance within the fandom surrounding Tech’s sacrifice.

I’m not trying to persuade anyone to change their opinions on whether if Tech should be alive or stay dead. My hope was to offer a deeper understanding of the issues surrounding Tech’s sacrifice and how that fueled heated debate.

It is completely possible to watch Season 3 and see CX-2 as a misdirection. It is also completely understandable to see CX-2 as as a mystery box reveal that he could be Tech with the clues given.

Either way, it remained a debate and distraction after the finale of season 2 and all the way to the end of season 3.

Tech said it best, “Understanding you doesn’t mean I agree with you.” People will always see the world differently. No matter how Tech’s sacrifice was presented, there will always be those who feel it was the wrong decision because Tech meant more to them than the majority of the fandom. Their grief and feelings are just as valid as those who disagree.

No one’s grief or sadness should be made into a joke, ever. You may not understand it, or agree with it; but like Tech said we should always “respect their decision.”

Star Wars is about hope and the stories found within touch us all in different ways. We bring our own unique life experiences and connect to the story in ways that are deeply personal. Fictional characters do hold weight into the real world because of this.

A personal note:

I will always love Tech. He will remain one of the best and bravest characters in the entire Star Wars Universe.

However, I do wish that there had more clear and direct confirmation regarding Tech’s sacrifice. Being neurodivergent and “processing moments and thoughts differently,” made me see parallels and patterns that kept conflicting; driving a mystery that my brain desperately needed to solve.

Now that the Bad Batch is over, I’m relieved to have somewhat of an answer; even if I had to say goodbye to the one Star Wars character that I connected to the most.

Ironically I lost my brother, (who was my only sibling), on the same day Plan 99 aired. It’s hard to know that March 29th is also the day Omega lost her brother too. We both have had to carry the weight of having a brother whose life was taken too soon.

I have yet to reach that feeling of acceptance with losing both my brother and Tech but I’m sure I’ll get there. Tech lives on through Omega. My brother lives on through me. I still wish they both survived long enough to grow old and share more moments with their families. Still, I’m thankful for the precious time we were given with them.

And who knows, maybe there is still wiggle room in the story to allow Tech to return to his family one day. It is Star Wars after all.

So to everyone…

Be kind to each other. Reach out often and tell those you care about how much they mean to you. Try hard to remember that we are doing our best to survive in this world together, so be kind and compassionate to those who are struggling.

And as always.. May the Force be with you.

Sharp Edges - Crosshair x Reader [NSFW]

Collaborative work with @lightwise... What started off as self-indulgent Crosshair smut has evolved into a fully-developed fic, with plot, character development, twists and turns, angst, yearning, and plenty of delicious *spice*. ;)

Blind Date Gone Wrong

Blind Date Gone Right

The Roof

The Nightmare

Spice and Advice

The Tattoo

Work Party, Part 1

Work Party, Part 2

Carnival Games, Part 1

Carnival Games, Part 2

Showers and Plants

The Rescue

Shots Fired, Part 1

Shots Fired, Part 2

Introductions

Clarifications

Shattered

Kintsugi

Conspiracy

Coat Dinner

Kashyyyk

Spreading Wings

Cat Breakfast

Kaller

Taking Flight

Nesting (Epilogue)

Do ya love it?? Reblog it! :D