#I wanted rampart to go down so bad

[gunitnekoh]

Spoiler for The Bad Batch s2e8

I need to be more careful what I wish for

[alottanothing]

This is for @twola, who, about a week ago was having a bad day and wanted someone to write a snip of Arthur beating the shit out of someone who made the reader cry; with the addition of some smutty goodness, of course.

Well, this is the first time I've written publically for our dear cowboy Arthur Morgan. And I simply cannot write anything considered a 'snip'. So here's what my brain calls a snip; over 5k words just for you, twola. I hope this makes up for the bad say you had last week. :)

And shout out to my partner in writing crime, @itswormtrain, for making this readable!

Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, smut (18+ MDNI), oral (f!reader receiving)

The sun was beginning to set over the peaceful hills and sprawling trees of Cumberland Forest. Those lingering traces of daylight caress the rugged terrain with whimsy, casting shadows that dance over the dirt path under the hooves of your young stallion. Nature seemed to pause in reverence as the sun gracefully lowered itself behind the distant mountains; the only sound was that of your horse's steady walk and the murmuring babble of the Dakota River in the distance.

It had been too long since you’d enveloped yourself in such tranquility, seemingly always at the receiving end of Miss Grimshaw’s scalding. Any anticipation of exploring the wilderness or going on jobs with the guys was always overshadowed by the necessity of chores.

When you’d joined the ranks of the Van der Linde Gang, you had hoped you’d garner a little more excitement than a seemingly endless cycle of laundry, cooking, and mending. Sure, the mess in Black Water and the threat of the law constantly at everyone’s heels was a form of excitement, concerning, but still excitement. Though, things had died down since all that, and Horseshoe Overlook was truly an awe-inspiring place to call home for the time being. Even so, camp chores remained deeply understimulating.

In truth, you were just antsy; you always were when Arthur was away for more than a couple of days. Your mind always thought the worst, despite knowing your handsome outlaw was more than capable of handling himself on jobs and in the wilds. But that nagging concern never ceases to occupy your mind. His absence at camp was never more cumbersome than when Grimshaw was barking out instructions, or when Uncle’s drunken singing was so off-key, it scraped against your brain like a rusty old knife. You simply couldn’t stand it anymore; you needed peace and quiet—something to scratch that itching thought in the back of your head.

Admittedly, you hadn’t planned to venture so far from camp, or any sort of civilization for that matter. The towering ramparts of Fort Wallace were in your sights before you decided to turn back. Were it not for the shotgun secured in its holster on your saddle, the late hour would have left you feeling considerably more anxious. Arthur had taught you well, and instilled in you enough confidence not to worry as you trot down the dirt path toward Valentine.

There wasn’t a single soul to be seen for the majority of your journey; your only company that of your horse and Mother Nature’s comforting embrace. You almost hated the far-off glow of a town in the distance, over the crest of a hill. Soon you’d be back at camp with nothing to do but laundry and fret over your lover's absence.

“Pardon me, miss.” You nearly jump from your saddle hearing the strange man’s voice. “Thank god for you, would you mind – too terribly – giving me a ride back to town?”

Your heart skips a warning in your chest as you look around, where did he come from? The question dances in your head as you fight to form the words you want. This was O’Driscoll country—a notion you were suddenly very aware of, and your eyes glance at the rifle still tucked securely in the holster on your saddle.

“I was thrown from my horse, ya see—wild beast took off without me. ‘Fraid I hurt my ankle when I fell.” He explained, garnering a wave of sympathy that clouded the caution in your gut.

The stranger wasn’t dressed in the usual black and green of Colm’s gang: just simple trousers and a dirty work shirt and boots. What could it hurt?

“Yeah, alright,” you said, giving the man a faint smile.

“Oh, bless you, miss. Bless you,” the look of relief on his features did well to settle the remainder of the apprehension swirling in your stomach.

With a firm grip, you steadied your horse so the man could climb on, offering your hand to help him up.

And that act of kindness was your mistake.

His grip on your wrist was like a vice, painful, as he yanks you from your horse's saddle, your boots nearly getting hung on the stirrups. A sinister laugh echoes through the tall trees, splitting the serenity with the jagged sound of malice. Your stallion rears and cries, spooked by the abrupt movement, but the stranger is quick to steady him, forcing your horse into a full gallop toward the glow of Valentine leaving you where you fell.

When the shock wears off, you aren’t sure which was stronger, the wave of anger that envelopes you, or the sudden fear of solitude that brings forth the steady stream of tears down your cheeks. Both feelings were justified, you figure. That, and how utterly foolish you feel for trusting a stranger.

You knew better. Your time with the Van der Lindes taught you not to trust anyone, at least not someone on the side of the road pretending to be hurt. That was the oldest trick in the book. One you’d used several times to con someone out of something. Now, you were out a horse and a shotgun.

When the landscape grew darker as night fell, those shadows that you once looked on with awe and majesty, now loom sinisterly.

Stupid! You scolded yourself, more tears searing down your face. It would be dawn before you made it back to camp on foot; if you made it back to camp at all.

Without the security of your shotgun at hand, your confidence in making it home unscathed was growing short. Animals lurked in the trees around you; monsters both beast and man would undoubtedly set their teeth on you if they found you alone and without the means to protect yourself.

A shiver surges through you, a combination of the onslaught of fear and the chill from the mud you’d landed in. If you’d been riding with Arthur, no one would have the gall to steal from him. And if they did, they surely wouldn’t live long enough to get far out of reach.

You wipe the mud from your hands to your skirts before swiping at the tears staining your face. Maybe someone from camp would notice you hadn’t returned yet and send someone looking for you. Why hadn’t you asked someone to ride along with you, Mary-Beth would have, and she would have appreciated the quiet you wanted. But no, all you needed was the shotgun… How foolish you were.

With a sigh, you work yourself to your feet, boots, and skirts caked with mud and dirt. Even with the weight of self-pity beckoning you to stay planted on the side of the road, the rage put fire in your steps. You would make it back to camp, feet surely blistered, if only to lessen the embarrassment of being robbed.

Anger proves to be a useful motivator as you trek down the road before you, lit only by the white light of the moon. The tears had stopped, but they threaten to spill again simply from how much your feet hurt. That glow seemed to have tricked you; Valentine wasn’t close at all. All there was was trees and rocks and dirt in every direction. You were utterly alone; lost in the wilderness with only thoughts of your naivety to keep you company.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves pounding against the earth resonates through the stillness of the wood, sending shivers down your spine and provoking a new wave of tears. With every nearer beat of the rider’s approach, anxiety constricts your heart, sending a whirlwind of possibilities into your mind. Images of dark strangers conjure in your thoughts, each with a fiendish smile and a revolver on their hip, a green bandana tied around their neck. All your anger drains, as you feel fear creep deeper into your being. You wish you still had your shotgun.

“You need a ride, miss?”

Relief crashes into you like a wave against stone; you know that voice, deep and comforting—kind (to you, at least). This time, it was joy bringing tears to your eyes.

“Y/N?” The look of surprise was to be expected on Arthur’s face as he beholds the sight of you, muddy, with tears staining your face. “Darlin’, whattaya doin’ out here?”

Immediately he jumps from his horse, warm hands gently holding the tops of your arms as he gets a better look at the state you’re in. All traces of his hard exterior are swept away, leaving the softer, more compassionate man you fell in love with.

“Camp was driving me crazy without you. I just wanted to take a ride, but some asshole stole my horse—yanked me off my saddle an’ everything. S’why my skirts are all muddy.” You explain, fighting more tears.

Some of the softness fades, still, his voice is gentle when he speaks again.

“Did he hurt ya?”

You shake your head, “no.”

The pad of his thumb dances over your cheek tenderly as he tilts your chin to look at him.

“Darlin’, ya been cryin’.”

“’M just cryin’ at my own stupidity, is all.” You tell him. “Should’a known better than to trust a man alone in the woods.” 

Arthur takes a deep breath through his nose, nodding.

“D’ja at least get a good look at ‘im?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you nod. “He took off towards Valentine.”

Arthur glanced south and nodded too, “Then I reckon that’s where we’ll find him.”

He places you on the saddle and mounts just behind you, drawing you close to his chest as he gives his loyal mare a gentle kick to urge her back onto the road.

With Arthur's arms around you, the darkness of the forest shifts back into the realm of tranquility. The menacing silhouettes of the towering trees became that of gentle giants, swaying gracefully in the night breeze. No longer did the whisper of rustling leaves hold a feeling of foreboding. The forest, in the ethereal silver glow of the moon, was a picture of peace and beauty once more.

Despite what had happened, even Arthur was a beacon of serenity. He hums as you both ride. It’s the same tune Uncle was singing when you left, only Arthur’s melody instills you with a sense of calm while Uncle’s attempt had you on the verge of threatening to remove his tongue. Every so often you feel his lips press to your scalp, leaving soft kisses in your hair and each one helps to remedy every sour thought plaguing you. It never ceases to amaze you just how tender your outlaw could be. To the civilized world, he was quite literally the poster of cruelty and evil, but for you, he was your knight in shining armor.

Valentine was quiet when the hooves of Arthur's horse turn down the main thoroughfare. The muddy roads, churned up by hooves and wagons, were dimly lit by the flicker of oil lamps. In the distance the stirring of livestock in their pens echoes through the stillness of the air, the only other sound coming from the saloon in the middle of town.

Smithfield’s always seemed to clamor no matter what time of night it was. Debauchery never slept, you guessed. The clinking of glasses and the lofty tune of the piano can be heard as you pass the sheriff’s office, a symphony of merriment in the still night air that lent such disregard to the tired citizens of Valentine.

A few men stand outside, bottles in hand as they lament lost love and glory, belching and hiccupping into the cool air. Horses tied to the hitching post whinny and jerk at reins keeping them in place, and there among them was your stolen stallion.

Arthur steers his mare to the front of the saloon, his heavy boots landing with a squelch in the mud as he dismounted. He helps you down, strong hands circling your waist and steadying you in the soft earth.

“I’ll be right back, darlin’,” he says and tips his head toward your horse. “Get yer boy, Imma go take care of some business inside.”

Before you can utter a word he stomps up the stairs of the saloon, his frame taking on the posture of The Enforcer as he pushes through the swinging doors.

His face wasn’t unknown here, it was only a couple of weeks ago he and a few of the other men from camp had gotten into some trouble. You weren’t there to see the fight, but you’d heard all about Arthur’s trip through the window—now boarded up and waiting to be repaired. This time, you hoped it wasn’t your handsome outlaw cast through the pane of glass.

While Arthur is inside, you deftly untangle your horse's reins from the post, gently stroking his mane to soothe his soft whinnying. You smile when he nuzzles you back, happy, it seems, to be back in your care.

“Was that awful man mean to you?” you ask softly, rubbing the coarse fur of his strong neck. “Arthur will handle it, don’t you worry.”

As if on cue, the jovial commotion in the saloon ends; the happy voices now holding anger or shock. The piano playing is lost to the disgruntled sounds inside and a moment later, the man who nearly ruined your night is thrown through the doors.

His bruised form topples down each step before landing in the mud. You watch, unable to quell the sense of pride that surges through you as you watch Arthur swagger through the saloon doors and down the steps, spurs jingling. The confidence he holds as he looms over the thief settles over you warmly. This act of violence was in the name of chivalry; the man deserved whatever justice Arthur planned to dish out.

“Didn’t need ya to point him out after all, darlin’.” Arthur's words fell from his lips with the ghost of a grin, pleased with the opportunity to put your attacker in his place. “This feller was inside boastin’ to the whoooole saloon ‘bout the horse he stole from a helpless young woman just outside of town.”

Arthur kicks the man as he tries to stand, the thief falling back into the mud with a groan. Folks begin to gather on the wooden porch of Smithfield’s, their faces twisting in looks of both concern and excitement as they watch your handsome outlaw and the man who’d stolen your horse.

“See, normally I don’t waste my time dealin’ with dim-witted horse thieves. Hell, on occasion, I am one. But you see, that weren’t just any helpless young woman ya stole a horse from… that was my woman.” Arthur deals him another kick to his gut, knocking the wind from his lungs a second time as he tries to stand.

“An’ if it ain’t clear already,” Arthur says reaching to pull the man from the ground and holding him by the lapels of his jacket. “I don’t take kindly to anyone hurtin’ my woman in any way. Ya understand?”

The deep timbre of Arthur’s voice works over your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. He looks so fierce in the flickering light of the oil lamps, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes from you, though you know they were cold, focused on the man in his grasp.

No coherent words fall from the thief's mouth as Arthur holds him nearly off the ground, only a moan of anguish, surely from the two kicks he’d suffered.

“Nod if ya understand,” Arthur demands with a shake.

Anger churns on the thief’s face, but he nods, slow, jaw clenching as he musters the gall to fight back.

“Fortunately for you, all I’m lookin’ for is an apology…” Arthur tips his hat in your direction. “…to the lady.”

The man’s dark eyes glance your way and he sneers, shaking his head with a mirthless chorttle.

“I ain’t apologizin’ for nothin’, especially when your woman is stupid enough ta get her horse stole in the first place.” 

If you cared even slightly about the fate of the man who’d stolen your horse, hearing those words escape his mouth would have caused your stomach to drop knowing the sort of fire he just ignited. But, you want nothing more than for Arthur to beat him into a bloody pulp.

To your surprise, however, Arthur remains steadfast, but his voice is increasingly more sinister when he speaks.

“Maybe ya didn’t hear me. An apology. Now.”

“No.” The thief spat, a fiendish smile turning his lips.

With lightning speed and unyielding force, Arthur’s fist collides with the man’s jaw, unleashing a thunderous crack that has the onlookers gasping. The sudden impact propels the thief backward, his body crashing into the cold mud for a third time.

You expect him to stay there, really if the man had any wits about him, he would have. However, despite the two kicks and the blow to his face, the thief rose from the mud, foolish determination etched onto his bloodied features. Arthur almost scoffs and wastes no time proving the extent of his strength. He strikes him again, obliterating the remnants of the man's fractured jaw, the sound resonating with a deafening crack.

No one rushes to the man's aid when he falls to the muddy earth for a fourth time, wailing in anguish at his shattered jaw. Arthur stands over him, tall and formidable, his presence almost challenging the man to get back up, your outlaw more than prepared to deal out more justice.

“Should’a apologized…” Arthur chides. “If ya had, maybe ya’d have use of that jaw’a yours right now.” 

The man groans in agony, writing on the ground as he holds his broken jaw. 

“But I had ta keep ya from speakin’ ill’a my woman like that. I certainly don’t appreciate when slimy fellers like you use her kindness against her.” Arthur slowly circles the man like a fierce wolf circles their prey. “Then ya had ta go leavin’ her out in them woods, faaar from any sort of civilization, all alone. An’ well. I ain’t takin’ no apologies for that.” 

He stops, one leg on each side of the thief before dropping to his knees, fist poised high over the old leather hat on his head. Arthur didn’t leave your attacker with only one more punch; the man under his weight had committed the ultimate sin in your lovers eyes. He’d hurt you, a crime that warranted the ultimate punishment.

The sound of each punch reverberates through the air as Arthur’s fury drives him to deliver decisive blows. As you watch, pride swelling in your breast, you swear each hit lands with such intensity the ground beneath you trembles. All the folks gathered to watch pass whispers while looks of shock mold their features. Come the morning, the town would be talking again about the stranger who liked to stir up trouble in the sleepy city of Valentine. 

When Arthur finally stands, flexing his surely aching knuckles, the man beneath him is unrecognizable. Blood and bruises distort his face, teeth missing from his gaping mouth. His limp body is unmoving in the mud and you haven’t a care whether he was dead or alive. 

There is a hint of shame on his expression when he drew himself back into your orbit, the coldness in his eyes warming in your presence.

“’M sorry, darlin’.” He says refusing to look you in the eye. In an instant, the Enforcer was gone, leaving only your kind knight in shining armor standing before you, his knuckles red and bloodied from dealing out justice.

“For what?” you say taking his injured hand in yours, wiping the blood from the cuts with a clean section of your skirt.

“For what I done.”

You shake your head and tilt the brim of his hat, looking to meet his lowered gaze. “All you done, Mister Morgan, is protect your woman. Ain’t a lick of shame in that.”

He grins softly, gently caressing your chin and cheek with his clean hand. His expression meets yours completely.

“’M just glad I happened upon ya when I did.” He murmurs and you step closer to him.

His gentle eyes, painted in a delicate watercolor palette of blue and green, softly convey the deep love he possessed for you, along with the ever-lingering fear of losing you. The exquisite blend of tenderness and vulnerability was something seldom seen by anyone other than you. And each time those meticulously built walls of his came down,  you were honored to behold the part of him he kept hidden from everyone else.

“Me too,” you whisper, hoping the look you give him in return conveys the same sentiment.

The lives you lived held no real guarantees apart from a bullet or a hanging rope. You learned quickly to never take for granted a single moment, and this one you certainly weren’t.

“You ready to get back to camp now, darlin’?” he asks, fixing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Camp… you almost grimace at the thought of returning to the mediocrity of it all.

“Actually.” Your eyes glance over to the hotel across the way, mischief coating your smile. “Was thinkin’ I should reward my rescuer.”

His brows furrow following your glance, oblivious to your meaning.

Before he can open his mouth to form a question, you kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck, stretching on your tiptoes to gain the fullness of his kiss. As if on instinct his arms weave around your waist, your feet coming off the ground as he pulls you in closer to deepen the draw of your joined lips. It’s slow and lazy and perfect, his mouth undemanding but firm against yours, making you melt into his very being.

Your head is spinning when he pulls away, placing your feet gently back into the mud, and you can’t fight the smile unfurling over your wet lips.

“I’ll buy us a room at the inn,” you say, batting your eyes coyly. “S’ the least I can do for my knight in shining armor.”

Arthur laughed, heartily. There is an undeniable charm to the sound of his chuckle, as it cascades through the air, enveloping you with an infectious happiness each and every time you hear it. As his eyes hold yours, a playful glimmer twinkles behind them as he swiftly deciphers your not-so-cleverly veiled plan.

“A knight, hmm?” his brow lifts onto his forehead in a deep arch, his smirk firm on his lips.

You nod, “In shining armor.”

He chuckles again shaking his head before scooping you into his arms with ease. You gasp at the swiftness, and laugh too, draping your arms around his neck before planting a kiss on his bearded cheek.

“Well, then, I reckon I should play the part, shouldn’t I, sweetheart?” he says as he steps around your fallen, broken-jawed adversary on his way to the Saint’s Hotel. “Ain’t never been a knight before, just a dirty ol’ outlaw.”

You laugh and roll your eyes. 

He whistles as he trudges through the soft earth for his horse to follow and his loyal mare falls in close on his heel. Your horse follows too, nearly as inseparable from his horse as you were with Arthur.

“Ya ain't old, and ya ain’t dirty…need I remind you who's got mud all over their clothes?” you say kicking up your soiled skirts to get his attention. He just laughs.

“Maybe ya forgot already, but I was on my knees in the mud beating the life outta that fool who robbed you. That makes me just as dirty as you. ‘Sides, I reckon neither of us will be wearin’ them for much longer anyhow.”

His comment, and accompanying bravado surges through you like more wildfire, adding to the flames he’d already been fanning since throwing your attacker through the saloon doors. Arthur’s confidence in his ability to have you swooning with only the low smokey sound of voice and the words he spoke had grown exponentially. Which was both something of a blessing and a curse. You enjoyed the days of flirting and seeing him grow red in the face from your flattery. Now he made you putty in his hands with a few words and a coupling smile.

For that moment, however, you decide it’s a blessing; he’s your Savior in Spurs—a cowboy casanova.

You toss a coin to the innkeeper from the pocket of your skirts and he casts you a key that you manage to catch as Arthur wastes no time making his way upstairs.

In truth, the Saint’s Hotel was no paradise; with its meager accommodations and thin walls, it was hardly a place to find rest. However, that night, that illusion of privacy might as well have been nirvana. You could hardly recall the last time the two of you had a chance to make use of actual walls instead of the canvas flaps of Arthur’s tent. Here, the neighbors were strangers who wouldn’t be casting you looks over the fire the next morning, knowing far too much about what you and Arthur had gotten up to in his tent. You were going to savor every tiny detail unabashedly while you could.

The fire was already burning brightly in the fireplace, warming the room from the cool mountain air outside the windows, adorned with sun-rotted lace curtains. The wooden floor creaked under each step as if to voice its displeasure at the neglect it had suffered over the years. The faded wallpaper, once bursting with colorful patterns, now barely clung to the walls, faded and dusty. The bed, while made with threadbare quilts and pillows, appeared sturdy enough not to break under both your weights, and that was all you truly cared about.

Your boots are the first to come off once Arthur places you back on your feet, discarded with a couple of eager kicks before his hands reach for the fastenings of your skirts. Yours wind around his neck, burying your fingers in his honey-brown hair as you kiss his soft lips.

For all the violence they inflicted mere moments ago, Arthur's hands were so very gentle, plucking at the ties holding your skirts in place, and again as his deft fingers loosened every button of your blouse with practiced ease, leaving you in just your chemise. Despite the warmth of the fire burning in the room, a chill works through you and you sigh, more gooseflesh prickling your skin as Arthur moves his hand to the globe of your breast, thumb sweeping over the covered peak of your nipple.

His featherlight touches make your mind a dizzying vortex of desire. This man, who uses his hands to deal out death sentences, only ever uses them to worship you. His mouth, which often spits out sarcasm and cruelty, paints your skin with tender presses and undeniable words of adoration.

Your hands snake from their place in his hair to the buttons of his blue work shirt, loosening only a few before he swats your hands away gently causing a whine to sound in the back of your throat. He meets your furrowed brow with smirk and a quick peck on your lips before moving your hands back where they were. 

“Feels good, you doin’ that,” he tells you. 

You gently scratch the hair at the nape of his neck. “This?”

“Mhm…” he leans to kiss you again, a slow, worshipful act as though he is trying to memorize every detail of your mouth against his. 

Desire thrums through you ever hotter. You need him. 

“Arthur…” you breathe in weak protest as his lips scour down the column of your neck, his hands pulling your chemise from you. “…I’m s’posed to be rewardin’ you.”

You feel him smile and shake his head as his kisses venture further across your collarbone. When he relieves you of your bloomers, you shiver and moan at the feeling.

“Don’t need no reward, darlin’.” He whispers against your skin between kisses. “Think its you that needs taken care of after whatcha been through.”

Calloused fingers spray over the small of your back as he brings you against him, the hardness in his trousers pressing against your bare form. You feel your own arousal coating your thighs, warm and wet, and begging for the feel of him inside of you.

“Will ya let me do that darlin’? Take care of ya?” his hands explore as he speaks, trailing down your spine before cupping your back side with a little squeeze. 

Your head falls back with a ragged sigh, fingers tugging at this hair. As much as you want to tease and dote on him and show him how grateful you were for his timing, you can’t think when he has you like this: naked and vulnerable to his touch, mind cloudy with desire. 

“Yes, Arthur. Always.” You murmur, lost in the blissfulness of his touches. 

As if you weigh nothing, he takes you in his arms again, hoisting you aloft, and carrying you to the bed where he lays you so tenderly over the threadbare coverings.

You watch, heart pounding against the cage of your ribs as he quickly sheds each of his layers. It is a show you have seen a dozen times and helped with a dozen more, still, your lust-blown eyes gauge him with reverence and awe.

He is truly magnificent, your handsome outlaw; strong shoulders and wide chest dusted with coarse hair your fingers yearned to comb through. Warmth drifts through your body as you drink in every inch of him, eyes landing where his cock juts from dark curls proudly and your cunt clenches in anticipation.

“C’mere, sir knight…” you say stretching across the mattress, smiling, and batting your lashes. “…come an’ claim yer prize.”

Arthur chuckles heartily as he climbs into bed, and you welcome the press of his weight with a happy sigh. He teases your lips with his own, soft kisses that leave you wanting before the press of his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You reciprocate, drinking from his mouth with hungry groans.

Heat pools lower and lower where you want him most; feeling the long pulsing line of him against your thigh was like torture, causing another whine to escape your busy lips.

“Please…” you sigh, a slow undulation taking your hips in search of some form of stimulation.

Once more he obeys, his mouth laying a hot trail down your sternum, stopping to draw your nipple between his lips before traveling further down. The sensation of familiar, calloused palms gliding down the stack of your ribs as his kisses continue their way down, squeezing the swell of your hips and kneading the softness of your thighs have your quiet moans echoing through the room.

Arthur dips his mouth to your center abruptly and draws his tongue up through your slick folds, tasting just how much you need him, and he groans.

“Mmmm, darlin’,” he murmurs before swirling his tongue over the bud nestled at the apex of your cunt. “I don’t do this enough…”

You gasp, a flash of heat pulsing through your center, head rolling against the pillow. He didn’t do this enough, then again, the two of you rarely found yourselves so alone together. And there was barely enough room for the two of you on Arthur’s cot anyway, let alone room to explore other methods of pleasure.

He intensifies his exploration, drawing his tongue over you in wide flat strokes, while your thighs come to moor on his shoulders, heels digging into his back. You feel his shoulders roll as he dedicates himself fully to his task, thrusting his tongue into you, filling you with warm velvet before abandoning your core for the silky nub crowning it. Arthur's tongue curls against it until you shiver and gasp.

“A-Arthur…” your breath hitches, hooking your fingers into his hair.

A low purr rumbles through him as you press against his face, hips rolling in rhythm with his ministrations. Your lover sweeps his tongue over and around your clit repeatedly. Sensation swells low in your belly, feeling yourself nearing the ultimate peak and you tug his hair ruthlessly wanting more. Needing more than just his mouth. His truly wonderful mouth... 

“C’mon, darlin’,” he mutters against your dripping cunt, the gust of his breath billowing over your heated center causing you to shutter.

Without fanfare a wide finger dips into your core, then another, making your back arch and a loud moan spill from your lips at the delightful stretch. For only a moment, your cry reminds you of the paper mache walls surrounding you; no doubt everyone in the Saint's Hotel knows what the two of you are up to, but you cared little with Arthur between your legs eating you out like he was made to do so.

Stars dance in your eyes as you skirt the edge of your undoing. He growls encouragingly when you flutter in warning against his lips and around his fingers.

“That’s it…” he murmurs, voice low and utterly sinful. You can even feel his proud, smirking lips against your center, the image alone snapping the spring coiled low in your belly.

Ecstasy hits you like white-hot heat, tunneling your vision as you jerk against his face, heels digging into his back. His name falls sloppily from your mouth in a flurry of mixed vowels and sounds that hold no cohesive meaning, each one melding into throaty moans.

“That’s my girl…” He grins, removing his fingers to lap up all the juices of your arousal as you ride out your orgasm against his face.

Slowly you come back to yourself, the tremors of aftershock fading as your breath and vision catch up to you. Arthur remains content between your legs, gently kissing the soft skin of your thighs, once more humming the tune he’d serenaded you with on your way into town.

When he smiles at you, lips and chin shining with your nectar, love burning behind his blue-green eyes, you pet his hair, holding that gaze with the same reverence. Slowly a smirk unfurls on your lips.

“Like I said, knight in shining armor.”

[archivistofnerddom]

That was exactly the ending I wanted!

No one from the Batch died, even if there were some scares along the way. (Well, Hemlock and Rampart were killed, but I’m not that sad about it. Nala Se went out in an honorable fashion.)

The surviving clones and the kids are safe and get to live peaceful lives.

The Batch got to settle down and live a happy life on Pabu.

You know Wrecker finally got to fish full-time, like he was meant to do. After being a big bruiser for so long, he’s finally able to be somewhere his strength can be used to build, not destroy.

Crosshair gets to figure out who he is without his shooting hand, which is honestly the healthiest thing for him. He’s able to heal!

Echo is continuing his work for the clones. (Emerie is going with him as his adopted daughter sister and ally.)

We get to see a grown Omega choosing to leave to help the Rebellion, to help people. She’s going to be a pilot, and she took Tech’s goggles with her as a momento and as a token of good luck. (Not me getting teary and happy at her red headband.)

Also, big shoutout to Gonky for still being around and being a delight.

Older Hunter has a beard and a ponytail. (Hunter girlies, go off and thirst! He aged like fine wine.)

Hunter and Omega end this series being the emotional core connection that we’ve seen from the beginning. Yes, it’s sad to see her leave Pabu, but she’s got another fight in her. Hunter respects that.

And Batcher, of course, is always the best dog!

That ending, while bittersweet, was satisfying as fuck.

It also leaves open the possibility that the surviving members of the Batch (Echo included) fought with Rex to overthrow the Empire during the time of the OT. (That fits Sabine’s narration at the end of Rebels when she mentions clones (plural) fighting with Rex. At that point, the only other surviving Seelos Squad member was Wolffe, so the other clones had to come from somewhere.)

Anyway, the Bad Batch ended so well. I’m teary and very satisfied.

[swallowtail-ageha]

Anyways today i replayed castle morne and i want to brainvomit a bit about it because i genuinely think its brilliant in both buildup and execution of themes, and especially as a way to denounce the supposed righteousness and the imperialism of the Golden Order so early in the game

(Putting a cut because holy moly its long. Also i apologize in advance for the run along sentences)

You first reach the weeping peninsula and the first npc you speak to is Irina. She is standing alone, without any weapon and blind, in the middle of a bunch of her family's garrison's corpses (and i think that the fact that the models used are the models of soldiers of godrick, whom thanks to Kenneth Height we know are particularly cruel to demihumans and the likes, is significant). As she herself says, she is being hunted down: her family's servants have rebelled and her father corageously stayed there to keep the postation and the home's ancestral sword, while she had been ambushed and her garrison died to save her.

And this is the perfect set up for people who are less genre savy and expect a more linear story, where the young girl and the kind father have been kicked out by the intrinsically evil, inhuman creatures that don't look human and don't seem to be very intelligent, and where the kind knight helps them to defeat the big bad leader of those creatures to take their castle back. Good ending!

Alas, it isn't like that. If you have already finished Kenneth's questline before, the whole setup feels weird. With the injustice that had been inflicted on the demihumans by the common soldiers, we already have the seed of doubt regarding the whole righteousness of the situation. As deformed and weird they might look like, demihumans, and therefore misbegottens too, are also people with thoughts and social structures and that maybe using them as mindless workforce is wrong.

Upon reaching the castle's walls, you are faced with a sword memorial, and if you read it you are smacked in the face with another revelation: the castle hasn't been built by irina's family and didn't actually belong to them, but instead has been taken by force by Godfrey's forces after he had slaughtered the previous clan that had it and even its last survivor who had made a desperate last stand in vengeance. Irina's whole narrative suddenly becomes even more shady.

Anyways, you finally enter Castle Morne, and the first sight you stumble upon is an horrific one: hundreds of corpses set in a pile on which several misbegottens are standing triumphantly. On the rampartarts household soldiers and other misbegotten are still fighting. Of course, again, if you take the whole narrative at face value, without reflecting on the sword memorial and Kenneth's questline, you might be still thinking that the whole situation was still black and white. However there are two, definitive moments that shatter that illusion, one more overt, the other less, but still as powerful

The first moment is finding Irina's father, Edgar, the castellan. One would think that, at least, you'd find him surrounded by corpses (i don't say in battle for obvious npc logistic reasons). And yet no. He is alone, sitting in a secluded place of the ramparts, with no signs of battle around.

Then he speaks: we learn respectively three things

-His main goal is to keep the castle (however he doesn't seem like he's done much fighting and only takes action once we go to kill the rebel leader ourselves. Fittingly enough, even fighting him as an invasor is extremely easy), but not because of any strategic importance or sentimental value. No. The reason why he's protecting it is to not permit that the heirloom of the caslte, the grafted blade greatsword, whom was forged by the Hero of Castle Morne as a tool of vengeance and has likely been kept around as a symbol of Godfrey's mightiness for having defeated him. The whole thing comes less as something about honor and more as something about simple vanity, or, better, about keeping intact the superiority of the Golden Order towards his opposers, something that cannot fall in the hands of such things as misbegotten (proof of that is also the ghost of the noble begging to not be eaten by them as he's nobility and doesnt want to get sullied by their lowlyness)

And

-That he is a Godrick loyalist and has been placed in the castle by him (therefore the idea that the family has been living there for long is rendered moot), and 3) that he is sickeningly racist towards misbegotten.

These two last points, now, have made your alarm bells ringing non stop. Maybe if this is the guy who is allied with a man who is known for his cruelty and maybe if he's so hostile against misbegotten, perhaps they had a good reason to rebel like that.

This brings us to the second moment:

After speaking with Edgar, you go in the back of the castle and reach the gaol section of the structure. As we can see, they are dirty, tight, and cramped. But most importantly, we find there a whip, which was specifically built as a way to torture and punish servants for their slightest disobedience. This is the final piece of the puzzle of *what* caused the misbegotten to rebel: not envy or any intrinsical evil, just the hellish condition that they were put in. One really can't blame them for organizing and revolting against their slavers.

You can see the leader of the revolt from afar, sitting in the grave of the hero's clan, having him too become the hero, for he in the name of vengeance for his species treatment started a rebellion.

But in the end, he'll have the same destiny as the Hero Of Morne.

You reach the Leonine Misbegotten and you kill him (perhaps even with the help of his slaveowner!) but the mood after the fight isn't triumphant. You stand alone, light rain is falling, the music is somber, in a massive graveyard dedicated to the one who lost his entire family to the golden order's imperialism, after killing his spiritual successor, perhaps even his descendant. You successfully put down a slave revolt for nothing, as the reason you did all of this, Irina, unbeknownst to you, has already been long dead by the time you take the castle back, killed by the same species whom her family exploited (The name of the site of grace of the graveyard, the Gravemoaning of Morne, really is fitting).

Her death prompts Edgar, the father, the lord of Castle Morne, the slave master, to start his own futile journey of revenge, becoming in the meanwhile too the Hero, bringing the story full circle

[thebookworm0001]

Fun Sized - Banter Update

Rating: T for innuendo

Summary: Ellana is short. Really short. So of course her companions have to tease her about it.

Link: AO3

Sera: You’re short. Like. Really short.

Ellana: What? I had no idea. I’d spent this whole time thinking everyone else was just exceptionally tall. 

Sera: [Giggles] That would be a trip, wouldn’t it. Wonder if that’s why dwarves are all… like that.

Ellana: The taller the ladder you need to reach your own cabinets, the grumpier you are. It’s just a fact.

(cont. under the cut)

Sera: But you’re not grumpy. Most of the times, at least. 

[if The Iron Bull is in the party]

Bull: That’s because she’s got a good view.

Ellana: I can promise you, that has nothing to do with it. 

Bull: Hey, you can enjoy the painting without wanting to eat the bowl of fruit.

Ellana: Funny, I don’t see any works of art around here. 

Bull: There’s some kitchen servants who might disagree with you. 

[Otherwise]

Ellana: [Laughs] You should say that to my sister. I’m sure she’d have some stories to tell that say otherwise.

Varric: Anyone ever ask you if one of your parents was a dwarf?

Ellana: Oh, very original. Never heard that one before. Are you going to ask if I stunted my growth by sitting in my aravel for too long next? Got kicked in the head by a Halla?

Varric: It’s a serious question. Usually the people I see eye-to-eye with have more than a passing affiliation with the Merchants Guild. 

Varric: With the right contacts and some clever paperwork, you could make some serious coin.

Ellana: Are you… asking if I want to con the Merchant’s Guild?

Varric: No, no, not at all.

Varric: Just saying, when all this is over, you have options.

Ellana: I’m sure my vallaslin won’t cause any problems in this plan of yours.

Varric: Evidence of a forbidden romance. People love a good tragedy - even better if you can scrape out a happy end despite it. 

Varric: They’ll be eating out of the palm of your hand.

Vivienne: I was speaking with our Lady Ambassador earlier, and she informed me you had rather firmly rejected her suggestion of incorporating heels into your ensemble.

Ellana: I did. 

Vivienne: Might I inquire as to why?

Ellana: Is it not enough that I simply do not want to wear heels?

Vivienne: Desire is reason enough to do anything, my dear. That does not make it wise.

Vivienne: You are an image for all of Thedas to aspire too, and your battle for legitimacy is not one that will be easily won.

Vivienne: It might help ease the process if those you wish to impress do not have to literally look down their noses at you. 

Ellana: Perhaps. Though I doubt anyone who already dislikes me will have their minds changed by a pair of fancy footwear.

Ellana: Anyway, any respect I gained would be quickly lost the minute I tripped and fell on my ass in front of a room full of dignitaries. 

Ellana: Or even better, I caught my new armor on fire. That would give everyone something to talk about.

Vivienne: Yes, well. Perhaps you are right. Some clever tailoring, then. And posture lessons.

Vivienne: One does not need to be imposing to command a room. 

Bull: Hey Kitten, you ever get lost, just look for the horns. Can’t miss ‘em.

Ellana: And where do you think I’ll be getting so lost that I’ll need to use you as a landmark?

Bull: Oh I don’t know. The crowds in Val Royeaux can get pretty nasty. Then there’s the ramparts, wrecked towns, corn mazes, overgrown fields. Really, just about anywhere.

Ellana: I- I’m not going to disappear into the grass like a lost girl in a child’s story. 

Ellana: What, should I leave a trail of bread behind me? Find a dog to guard me from the Dread Wolf?

Bull: I hear those Ferelden dogs come in pretty handy, actually. But no.

Bull: We might want to put a bell on you though, just in case.

Ellana: Think it’ll rain today?

Bull: Depends.

Ellana: On?

Bull: If you’re aiming at my height or my bad ankle.

Ellana: I could just be making small talk. Plenty of people talk about the weather.

Bull: Yeah, but most people aren’t wringing their fingers for an hour trying to come up with a clever way to ask about it. 

Ellana: My sister was always better at jokes than I was. 

Bull: That’s alright. You’ve got your own strengths.

Bull: For example, I think you’d make a very talented armrest.

Ellana: You know I can set you on fire, right?

Bull: Don’t worry, Kitten, you’re very scary.  

Inspired by @shift-shaping 

Bull: Solas, did you hurt yourself in our last fight?

Solas: I do not believe so. Why?

Bull: You’ve been rubbing at your neck more than usual. Thought you might’ve tweaked it after that one move. I’ve got some tips that could help if it’s sore.

Solas: I thank you for the concern. Your advice would be appreciated. 

Bull: Well, first off, you’ve got to start lifting with your knees. The Inquisitor’s tiny, but that doesn’t mean you can’t hurt yourself picking her up. 

Solas: Excuse me?

Bull: Oh, and you should probably invest in some cushions, maybe those feathery ones the Orlesians have. It’ll help you stay on your knees longer.

Solas: That is none of your concern.

Bull: It is when I get between you and the next templar that takes advantage of your stiff back. 

Bull: Those charging bastards hurt, you know.

Ellana: What information do I have to pass along to the Qun to get you to stop?

Bull: What? It’s friendly advice. If he keeps bending over, he’s going to get stuck that way. 

Bull: I’m just saying, It’s easier if he comes down to your level. 

Ellana: Please just tell me who Josephine needs to blackmail for this to end.

Bull: [Laughs] Now where’s the fun in that?    

    

Blackwall: So, you and the Lady Inquisitor, how does that work?

Solas: Much like any other relationship, presumably. 

Blackwall: Most relationships don’t have one party towering over the other. 

Solas: Really? That is your concern?

Blackwall: Not a concern. Just curious, is all. 

Blackwall: I mean, it can’t be easy. It looks like she’d need to climb scaffolding for anything to line up properly.

[If Cole is in the party] 

Cole: She is precious, held wholly in the palm of my hands. Sweet, small like the frilly cakes she brings me from the kitchens. 

Cole: He likes how small she is. He thinks it’s cute.

Blackwall: Well wasn’t that just adorable.

[Otherwise]

Ellana: Oh is that a dragon I see overhead? No? Pity. I would have appreciated being eaten right about now.

Blackwall: I’m sure Solas would be happy to oblige, my Lady.

Ellana: [Groans] Kill me now.

[theoraclej]

well, that was bitterly disappointing to the depths of my soul.

yes, I'm talking about Tech.

he deserved better. the BATCH deserved better. OMEGA deserved better.

I don't like the way they basically just erased any and all grief for Tech except for a couple of fucking off-hand mentions that barely whetted the appetite for more of the only character I really identified with

because I'm the info dumping autistic guy in my irl groups

and to see him shuffled off in the manner they used was a fucking insult

and to be teased about it by the show creators

or worse, harassed by the bad lot of Star Wars fans

and to kill off their autistic guy who DEFINITELY had chemistry and the first hints of flirty bonding with a Black woman is a bad look, v bad look

imo they botched the whole finale, not just the Tech thing because like look:

I guess this zillo beast is just gonna live on that planet now, instead of getting involved in the story they had it fuck off to the jungle - what

CX-2? who was he? too bad we'll never know because he was dropped before he was identified

it was shot so dark, everything was hard to see, and mind you my television set is especially tuned for it to NOT be dark because I hate that shit, I am going to be forced to watch it again despite not wanting to so I can listen to the audio descriptions and better understand the fights

they totally dropped Omega's force sensitivity stuff, like I wanted to know more about that, and about the other kids, will they even be safe? cause we know the empire keeps stealing force sensitive kids

speaking of those kids, what even was the point? the research was destroyed yet we know project necromancer is eventually successful or maybe they're retconning that too, who knows, all the rules are off the table and nothing matters

writing was inconsistent for an episode meant to be important

Crosshair did not deserve to have his hand cut off. I know prosthetics are "easier" and "more accessible" in this universe but also I don't give a fuck, just insult to injury and more, this man has suffered enough from the moment they jacked his chip up to 11

back to Tech: they spent so much time being cute little shits about him that his return seemed inevitable, as I watched the season I kept counting down time left for him to show up, and I had hopes all the way through until the first fade to black, only to be bitterly reminded of his death with the goggles in Omega's ship

--

two highlights I did enjoy - Omega and Hunter at the end, making me wonder if there will be a show about Omega set during the rebellion or if she'll show up in The Mandalorian or Ahsoka

Nala Se killing the shit out of rampart as she herself died, thank you Nala Se

but overall UGH, I will be tender from this one for awhile, I almost want to cancel Disney+ until I feel able to watch Star Wars stuff again

might write some fix-it fic, I'm too hurt right now tho

I'm commiserating with the rest of you who seem to have much the same reaction to this disaster of a finale

so yeah, we all deserved better, fictional folks and real folks and zillo beasts alike

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

With every rewatch of Bad Batch season 1, I am more convinced that Crosshair was resisting the effects of the inhibitor chip when it came to his dealings with his brothers. Here's why.

In "Aftermath," as soon as Order 66 is put into effect, Crosshair tries to kill Caleb, begins to clash with every member of the squad when it's clear they are questioning the order, and even reports to his superiors that the padawan may have escaped. His frustration at Hunter repeatedly disobeying subsequent orders, and the other squad members agreeing with Hunter, continues to grow, indicating that the inhibitor chip does have an effect on him.

(As an aside: it's honestly heartbreaking to see just how earnest and frustrated Crosshair is when he's telling his brothers "Good soldiers follow orders" while they are locked up in the brig. His tone and body language there has all the energy of someone who is convinced beyond any doubt that they are right, but they don't have any other way besides one sentence to explain why they are right, and they are equally frustrated both by their lack of ability to explain further AND wondering why everyone else is so dense that there's any need to explain further.)

Still, even as he vehemently argues with Hunter and the rest of the squad, he never outright attacks them, and he begrudgingly follows Hunter's lead even when he clearly disagrees.

Until his inhibitor chip's intensity is ramped up.

Crosshair confronts his squad, orders them to surrender, and when they don't, he shoots Wrecker. Now, personally I find it noteworthy that Crosshair didn't make it a kill shot when he certainly could have - even Hunter comments that Crosshair must have shot Wrecker specifically to set him up as bait. And @miss-musings shared some very intriguing details that further indicate Crosshair might have been pulling his punches during the fight: 1) When Crosshair nearly shot Omega but Hunter pulled her back, Crosshair had a second where he readjusted his position, almost as if subconsciously bothered by the fact that he almost shot the kid. 2) When aiming at Hunter's head - the target was clearly in his sights - Crosshair took a long time to pull the trigger, long enough for Omega to act. 3) When Omega shot the rifle out of his hands, he takes several seconds before grabbing his sidearm to return fire. Maybe he was simply taken aback by what Omega had done and surprise made him freeze, but it is still an interesting detail.

With all that being said, given that there's every chance Crosshair had been told to bring in his squad mates alive if possible, maybe he was just following orders there.

Where I think it becomes quite clear that Crosshair is capable of resisting orders is when he confronts the squad on Bracca. Crosshair had initially approached Rampart with the proposal of bringing in Clone Force 99, but Rampart told him in no uncertain terms to "terminate them."

Crosshair knows his squad. He accurately predicts every move they are going to make. He knows their playbook and WILL use that knowledge against them. So what does Crosshair, CT- "I'm willing to do what needs to be done" -9904, do? He sets up an ambush, surrounds his squad, and stops to chat, ultimately giving Tech enough time to come up with a counterattack. It's heartbreaking when Crosshair ignores Hunter's and Omega's pleas and instead tells his forces to "Aim for the kid." But why is Crosshair talking to them at all? Dude could have easily hidden himself and his forces and sniped down each of his unsuspecting brothers one by one. If Crosshair wanted his brothers dead, they would have been.

Same goes for the showdown in the ion engine. It is absolutely horrifying that Crosshair would order his forces to turn on the engine in a move that would completely incinerate his former squad. And yet... His squad mates are cornered in an enclosed space with no way out. Crosshair has multiple vantage points he could take advantage of, not counting the shuttles he has at his disposal. Why would he order his teammates to be roasted instead of, you know, enacting the more certain method of shooting them while they're trapped? He even had the chance to snipe down an unsuspecting Tech when Tech was assessing the engine's opening; instead, what could have easily been a kill shot turned into essentially a warning shot. It's like he needed them to be dead, but he just couldn't make himself be the one who pulled the trigger - so he came up with another strategy that wouldn't involve him killing them firsthand.

It seems to be a well-accepted theory that Crosshair's inhibitor chip was removed or otherwise ceased to be a factor for his behavior shortly after the events on Bracca; yet even before this occurrence, when Crosshair was under the influence of the chip, it seems that there was still a limit - albeit very subtle - to how far "Good soldiers follow orders" would take Crosshair when it came to his brothers.

[rosewaterandivy]

careful fear & dead devotion m.list

Summary: and you want to beg, like Andromache on the ramparts of Troy, don't do this, don't have me nurse fresh grief, but his gaze in reply is redolent and kind, do not borrow sorrows from tomorrow, for you and I have arrived at the grief we were born for.

Pairing: s.h. x f!oc

W.C.: on-going

Warnings: gilded age!au, miscommunication, a comedy of errors/manners, society snobs, a masquerade ball mishap, arranged marriage, steve ‘down bad’ harrington, and a reader/mc who doesn’t have time for this shit - she was educated abroad, she went to Vassar with Miss Nancy Wheeler, okay?!, back on my iliad bullshit (i know, i know)

playlist | inspo | lore | timeline

Inquiries and requests are open for this au, if you're so inclined!

Series:

I. coup de foudre

II. traîner quelqu'un dans la boue

III. filé à l’anglaise

IV. folie à deux

V. ce n’est pas la mer à boire

VI. passé une nuit blanche

VII. faire la grasse matinée

VIII. à bon chat, bon rat

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Of course I cried (a TBB S1 Retrospective and cry fest)

I finished S1 and it honestly is still stands really strong. While I love the other seasons more (for quite obvious reasons), S1 still has really standout moments and episodes such as the finale. Crosshair might be in is bad boy era, but he's still incredibly compelling.

What hurts to me most about S1 is this image above. This is the last time CF99 is all together. Ever. Obviously, we didn't know that and neither did our boys and Omega. Even if the Batch knew in-universe there was a chance that they would never see each other again, I think deep down they hoped they would reunite. I know Omega had hope that Crosshair would somehow find his way home.

What makes S1 (and the whole show in retrospect) even more tragic is that we will never see the BB whole ever again. It makes Tech's death hurt that much more because he and Crosshair never made proper amends. The last thing he hears Crosshair talk about is how everyone else is foolish for not joining the Empire and making his choice to stay. One of the last memories Crosshair really has of his brother is him pointing his blaster at him. After that, it's a one way ticket to suffering for Crosshair.

I know it's just a show, but images like the one above make me wish we had more time with the Batch before they were so cruelly torn apart from each other and it only enhances the tragedy they go through. The series finale, no matter how sunshiney it looks, is still bittersweet. The Batch finally get their freedom but at a great cost. Tech doesn't make it. Crosshair is still deeply hurting. It's a harsh reality that breaks my heart. In Rebels, we had 3 seasons of the Ghost crew together before we lost both Kanan and (temporarily) Ezra. The BB don't even get a single season all together. I would've loved to see them all with each other at least one more time without all the conflict.

But looking at S1 as a whole in general, I still really enjoy it. I love episodes like "Common Ground" or "War-Mantle" because we see how monstrous the Empire really is right out of the gate. Rampart, as goofy as that scream made him look, is a very crafty and entertaining villain who you just want to punch in the face. Crosshair himself is a fantastic villain who's both ruthless and tragic. While he doesn't hold back, the clear attachment he still has to his brothers in the back half of the season make the finale that much more emotional.

And while you can argue there is a lot of "filler," a rewatch proves that each episode happens for a reason. Why did the Batch have to capture a baby Rancor? So they could get info on Fennec. How come they stuck around to help Cid? Because she gave them money and work. I'm not saying that it's the most entertaining content we've seen, but there is a clear purpose for why those episodes happen.

I would've loved to see more Crosshair (for obvious reasons), but I do think the first season does balance out the story arcs well and when we do see him, he is always great. Thanks to the great music and acting from DBB, I do think the first season makes it clear that while Crosshair isn't leaving the Empire, he's not the same man he was pre-Bracca. The chip's influence isn't there (or at the very least severely diminished based on how you interpret Cross' reveal) and he does want them back but only on his terms.

As for the others, I definitely understand Hunter a bit more. He wants to help Crosshair, but he really doesn't know how nor does he want to endanger the others. I wish the group had a least one conversation about it though. For a group that feels like they should be very tight knit, it still feels like they brush Cross' departure off quite quickly. It's kinda like the Tech scenario in S3 where you know they're thinking about it, but nobody says anything. And that's frustrating because you know the Batch have a lot on their mind, especially Crosshair. And ironically, the quietist of the Batch is the most vocal about his feelings. Crosshair is so expressive and it's one of my favorite things about it.

Omega is such a cute munchkin. I adore her with every fiber of my being. She takes everything with stride and I love how S1 establishes many skills (like the hustling) that will later come into play in S2 or S3. And the show isn't afraid to show her learning process. Omega makes many mistakes, but she learns quickly and tries again. She loves her brothers so much.

Overall, S1 is still very strong and much more tragic in retrospect. I guess in someways, it reminds us how unfair life can be sometimes and that's why we gotta cherish each moment. Tech might no longer be with us, but he lives on through each of his brothers and Omega. Cross might never see him again, but as he tries to be better, Tech is no doubt smiling down from Clone Heaven.

Anyways, onto S2 (and more sadness). TBB lowkey is the most tragic of the SW animated shows not counting the Siege of Mandalore arc in CW. Every season, something awful happens to tear our little clone family apart. That's why the ending on Pabu, no matter the quality of writing, meant so much to me.

[xecutivecucumber]

Executive Cucumber's Thoughts on The Bad Batch 03×12!

Spoilers under the cut

Let start out by saying holy heck that was the cool down episode I needed. My sister watched it before me and was able to tell me that Tech/CX-2 wasn't in it for a significant amount, so I was able to get past my disappointment and not be stressed out during the episode. Yes, I'm still on the 'Tech is CX-2 Bandwagon.' I do think they should have revealed him to the audience earlier, because I have to actively avoid Bad Batch social media (*cough*reddit*cough*) for my own mental health because of the negativity around the idea. It's really draining.

Anyway, on to the actual episode!

Today I realized that I might be triggered by Omega being trapped at Tantiss because of some past experiences. (And yes, if you've read my fics you know that I've done it to her too, but I have control over that and I think the problem is the lack of control I have)

Hi Tech! I love you! Please be un brainwashed soon!

I want to murder Hemlock. I don't know if I've ever hated a Star Wars villain like this before. It feels so personal.

It devastates me that they're going to take Omega's clothes away. Clothes that were given to her by people who love her. Ow.

Also you're playing a dangerous game, not keeping those binders on her, Hemlock.

'Is everything all right, Dr. Karr?' 'No, the Jango parent gene got awakened in me and that does not go away'

Why does Emerie think she HAS to do this?

I'm a little disappointed we didn't see Hunter find out about Omega. He's probably just in 'go' mode, honestly. Adrenaline and all that.

Crosshair is so proud of Omega oh my gosh.

PHEE MY QUEEEEEEEEEN

Oh my gosh Tech told Phee about Crosshair. That implies that had more time than we saw. That makes me so happy and sad.

Phee talks about Tech with such fondness. You can tell how much she cared about him. I feel like I'm watching a widow who's processed her grief but still talks about her husband because she loved him.

Also, looking at Phee, she doesn't really have any implied make up on. She's very natural. Good for her.

...Rampart looks kinda good with a beard.

Okay Tech would find the stunt Phee pulled extremely attractive.

This is the closest we've gotten to the original Batch we've gotten in a very long time. It feels good to see them go mission mode with Crosshair.

This is reminding me of Eriadu and I don't like it.

Crosshair asking Wrecker if he remembered whatever plan and then patiently waiting for him to remember lives rent free in my head he's so sweet.

WRECKER'S THEME IS BACK BABY

Also, Crosshair's theme is played in this really fun way?

Crosshair should be allowed to kick Rampart in the balls. As a treat.

Rampart you snake. Crosshair should have shot him in the leg instead of stunning him.

My sister pointed out that the juggernaut represents how the Batch is right now. You cannot stop them.

Man, it's nice to not to be as conflicted when the TK troopers die, as opposed to when clones were sent against them. Quick thought though, does Wolffe have all the remaining clones?

Man these guys get BRUTALIZED.

Them throwing around passed out Rampart is amazing and should continue to happen.

Okay Wrecker has his knife out HE IS READY TO TORTURE A MAN.

Frick you Rampart. He is the worst replacement for Omega.

Aww they probably didn't bring Batcher on the mission to protect her. (Plus she a half trained dog and it was a stealth mission)

And then the boys spent the next hour arguing over who has to call Echo and tell him.

Hemlock you FOULE you're giving Omega ALLIES. Also why are you telling her all this. She will use it against you.

Gall, I hate Hemlock.

Again, I really needed this cool down episode. Though I'm afraid the final three episodes are going to hurt. THIS IS MY FAVORITE SHOW WHY IS IT STRESSING ME OUT SO MUCH. ALSO WAITING A WEEK FOR EPISODES ALSO SUCKS. A LOT.

[zaptrapp]

Ea’s Bad Batch Finale Rant

Here we go, doing this as I’ve done for ep.1. Of course SPOILERS AHEAD for the last episode (sigh, it’s all done and gone isn’t it?). Warning, this is going to be chaotic and emotional... so yeah, deal with it haha.

The intro… the eerie music… chills.

Is something bad about to happen or…?

Please leave Wrecker alone.

WRECKER NO

We are not starting on a good note, why’s Wrecker so beaten up???

This is not good, I’m not good.

I mean I know why, because of last ep beast, but c'mon why Wrecker...

“Clone Force 99 ended when Tech died” fuck If I’m not crying wow….

Crosshair shaking so much… nah I’m out already what the fuck is this.

Crosshair wanting to sacrifice himself, YO CHILL?!?

Hunter please discipline your children.

Dr. Hemlock x Rampart or did I just imagine the sexual tension?

But what if...

Enemies to lovers Dr. Hemlock x Rampart lmao please someone, anyone?

Kids please beat the shit out of miss Dr. PLEASE KIDS!

Omega being so smart, her character development, the courage! SLAY GIRLIE

FREE THE ZILLO YUP

now we're talking

"Is it Omega's or Echo's handiwork?".... "Omega's." LMAO they know Echo doesn't fuck around that much hahaha

Emerie i give you one last chance.

green kid I feel you so much, I'm also afraid of heights hahah

here we go with the Incredible 4 (aka the super clones? enhanced clones? brainwashed clones? whatever....)

they give off a lot of "Avengers Unite!" vibe

ready to slay aren't we?

When I said slay I didn't mean slay the bad batch, just to be clear.

annd Hunter is a goner

Annnnd Crosshair is a goner too i guess?

WHAT THE FUCK NOT THE HAND???

Creepiest point the show has ever been what the actual fuck is this supposed to be a children show?

Yup Wrecker is done too.

Yo the scene where Emerie and Echo see his squad being taken away. I got chills, you can fucking see his reaction, the shock.

ECHO SLAY YESSSS ECHO THE OG ARC TROOPER HERE WE GO

Emerie don't fuck this up and get those kids to safety thank you.

CLONE RESCUE HAPPENING RN I'M NOT GOOD

Nala Se and Rampart too?! slay

Omg Rampart stfu for one second or just go away you're useless anyway

Not the squad being tortured

HUNTER NOOOOOOO

"We'll survive, but you won't" -> OOOOOOHHFFFFFFUUUUCK

Hunter be mine

Oh wow Nala Se I see where you're going with this.

Kamikaze?

Too bad we didn't have more Hemlock x Rampart interactions, boyfriend died, sad.

Aaaaaand 2 are down.

Bye Rampart and Nala Se, you actually were on my dead bad batch bingo list.

Rest In Peace Nala Se🙏🏻 you got redeemed.

Rest in Sass you bitching ass imperial Rampart 🖕🏻

UH Hemlock this was such a bitchy thing to do.

and here goes the chaos

Wrecker is so fucking menacing. HE IS PISSED

OK WRECKER IS MAD MAD and also scary scary now…

Hunter with that spear makes me feel things.

Uhhh he got it coming from a mile away

And Clone CX-2 is down….

So, uhhhh…. That wasn’t Tech uh……

So….

Tech was….

….Dead dead?

Like actually dead this whole time?

Fuck.

ALSO WHERE THE FUCK IS COMMANDER CODY PLEASE RELEASE HIS FROM HIS CAGE

NO ECHO fuck god

“Take a shot everytime the bad batch is on the verge of getting killed”

-> not me being absolutely wasted and with my nerves asking for mercy

Please Hunter, Crosshair, kill that bitch ass Hemlock

major disney villain vibe in the storm with the hostage secured to his wrist yada yada...

"DROP YOUR BLASTERS" well well well

Why is Hemlock’s screaming voice kinda sexy tho

I'm so sorry for what I've just said.

WET HAIR HUNTER FUCKING THANK YOU I can die now

CROSSHAIR PLEASE bciakwnfbhc I’m dying too here

You can do it YES you can do it

Crosshar leaning on Hunter like he did with Tech in the clone wars season 7 HAHAHAHA YUUUUP I've been fed.

Uh that was personal

Guys... that's enough. Yup I-I think he's dead now. Yes, definitely gone. Uh, you can stop shooting, he's cold. He also just fell off a cliff... HE DEAD DEAD!

evil space imperial boyfriends reunited in hell

The way Omega chooses to hug Crosshair first, as a DadHunter! stan I feel a bit betrayed but comprehensible… he just saved her not missing the shot.

with one hand tooo, kudos

group hug I'm so teary

Wait so they did it?

THEY’RE OFF PLANET!??

AND THEY ALL SURVIVED?

Oh wow I bet my money on Hunter and Crosshair to die but I was wrong?? This is… refreshing.

Look at them kids!! And the clone cadets, and the rescued clones!!!

EMERIE AND ECHO YESSSS

Look at them all cozy and happy

Nah Echo my man where are you going?

Rex mention pt. 2 or something...

Rex should have been there in the finale but ok i guess... a bit disappointed but still

Nah Echo should have been there for the last shot.

It’s over uh?

look at them, finally happy and free. WE DID IT.

WAIT NO IT ISNT OVER YET???

Not the flash forward I cannot handle it

Ok Pabu!?

YOUNG ADULT OMEGA fuck yesssss

oh she looks awesome

IS THAT HUNTER'S BANDANA

deceased. dead on the ground. dead like hemlock.

NOT OLD HUNTER LIKE THIS IM DEAD ON THE GROUND DECEASED IM FUCKING CRYING OH WOW

OMEGA IS SO GROWN UP

She’s a rebel pilot

"You're our kid" I'M SCREAMING

he chose to be a dad, I knew it

She chose to keep fighting

TECH'S GOGGLES THIS IS SUCH A FOUL MOVE

They should have included Wrecker and Crosshair in this where are they??

But also it’s as it began, Hunter and Omega and their father-daughter bond

“Bye dad, imma be a pilot and save the galaxy” aka “imma move out from the basement and live on my own”

Oh Hunter you’re an old man now…. My heart is aching but also it means he got to live a peaceful life until the rest of his days.

the beard, the long hair, the gray hair.... i wonder how crosshair and wrecker are doing? and echo?? and howzer? AND CODY?

like you cannot leave me like this? hello?

This is gone full circle now.

Well….

Goodbye Bad Batch! It’s been a pleasure!

(I’m still crying)

[baddest-batchers]

THE BAD BATCH SEASON 3 EPISODE 14 THOUGHTS & FEELINGS! | spoilers below ~<3

• why didn’t they just kill Rampart when they made it to the planet Tantiss is on like guys he’s a liability at this point, especially now that he’s been captured. he’s a little bitch and will probably start singing like a canary at even the sight of Hemlock and his torture droid.

• Rampart screaming like a little bitch during the entire rappelling out of the crashing ship scene lmao. He’s so pathetic and I want him ✨gone✨ pls Jennifer pls don’t redeem him, we’re okay if he gets eaten by the Zillo beast.

• ALSO WHY WAS THAT CONVERSATION BETWEEN CROSS AND RAMPART SO OMINOUS?? Like who tf does Rampart think he is? Challenging Crosshair like that as if it isn’t evident he’s changed so much. that whole conversation made me nervous for some reason.

• Crosshair shaking out his hand again 😔😭 (dammit Jennifer you will be receiving my therapy bill)

• “I owe her.” He is facing his PTSD head on, staring it down with a death glare that would make Vader weep. He’s going to make it to the base to rescue Omega. He won’t leave her behind. That’s his big-little sister in there and Crosshair did not come to fuck around. 10/10 we love to see it.

• ECHO AND HIS STEALTH ARC TROOPER ASS GETTING SHIT DONE AGAIN!!! 🥰

• “thanks for the hand” comedy 👑, dad jokes 💯

• Omega being able to tell that the laser canons were going off!! Hunter taught her so well ☺️

• “They found me, my brothers.” 🥹🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

• SHE FOUND THE ZILLO BEAST AND SHE’S GONNA RELEASE IT ONTO TANTISS GUYS

•SOOOOOOOO the chances of Hemlock getting fed to the zillo beast are high, right? RIGHT???

• I honestly hope Rampart along with Hemlock either get eaten by the zillo beast or get shot at point blank by one of the Batch. Fuck both of them and their sleemo asses.

• Ahahahahah getting clowned once again with no CX-2/Tech reveal 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠 I’m getting so nervous that Tech is actually gone.😭

• ECHO EARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

• I’m so freaking nervous for next week’s finale. There are so many loose ends to tie up. The finale better be over an hour long. I’m really not ready to say goodbye to the boys and Omega. Whatever happens it’s probably going to hurt one way or another and I’m not ready for that either.

[starlightrows]

Final thoughts on The Bad Batch Finale

I’ll cut to the chase here and be honest. I am not mad about it, in fact I’m over all pretty content with this ending.

Are there unanswered questions? Yeah.

Are there loose ends? Yeah

But to be completely honest, after a while with this show, I lost a lot of real attachment to it. I stopped caring so much about how it would all shake out. And it improved my viewing experience immensely.

But I’ll still share some specific thoughts.

What I wish had been tied up

• I realize they can’t show it, because it’s a kids show. But I hope one or some of them hunted down Cid and killed her. She sold them out. Twice. I can’t fucking stand betrayers and backstabbers.

• A little bit more explanation on Omega’s M Count and how it actually affects her (who knows, we might find out later. Maybe she’ll meet Kanan Jarrus later in the rebellion!)

• What happened to Cody? Listen, I’m not really part of the Cody fandom space. But I love and support you guys, and I think you guys deserve to know what happened to your blorbo!

• Was Tech one of the winter soldier-esk operatives? To me it felt a little odd that they didn’t confirm or deny it either way. And it sort of doesn’t matter. If he was, there wasn’t going to be a way to save him and they would have had to kill him while looking at his face. If he wasn’t then he died to save them. He died a hero and they can mourn and remember him.

Most of these things, we might be able to get answers or closure to later in a future project. Fingers crossed.

Here are the things that I loved

• Omega has grown so much. We can see it in how she approaches situations and views the world. You can see little reflections of all of her brothers in how she behaves without them. And that is a beautiful thing.

• The batch has grown a lot too. They of course want to protect her, their little big sister. But they also trust her immensely. They taught her how to lead, how to think tactically, how to protect herself and others. The taught her to be a soldier.

• Nala Se knew she would not leave the base alive. And so did Omega. They both understood the importance of ensuring the empire lost all possibility of using that data. Nala Se also got to avenge her city and her people by taking Rampart with her.

• Omega leaving to join the rebellion means everything to me. She grew into an amazing young woman. She was raised by soldiers. Soldiers that didn’t choose to be part of a war. But she got to choose. She chose to become a soldier on her own to free the galaxy of its tyrannical government. There is nothing more Star Wars than that to me.

[cc-cobalt-1043]

Barbecue:

One summer evening on Pabu The bad batch were heading to Shep's house, he was hosting a barbecue and had invited everyone.

The kids were practically pulling the adults along in their excitement.

"Cmon dad, we've been walking forever." Joey whined giving Cobalt an almighty tug forward.

"We've been walking for two minutes bud." Cobalt said as he was almost pulled off his feet.

"Yeah, forever, we're gonna be late at this rate." Joey said.

"Relax Joey, we won't." Cobalt said.

Just minutes later they arrived at Shep's where the man greeted them with one of his signature smiles.

"Hello friends, glad you could make it." He said.

Shep looked to the kids.

"Lyana is in the backyard if you want to see here." He added.

Shep quickly stood aside as the kids and Batcher charged through the door.

Laughing heartily the adults followed through the door and went into the garden where the kids and Lyana were already engrossed in conversation.

Soon Wrecker and Shep had gotten the barbecue started and a smoky smell had now enveloped the garden.

Daniel and James were chasing batcher around the garden, Boba, Zander and Rowan were talking with Mox, Stak and Deke about different ships they had seen and flown and Omega, Kordi, Cynthia and Lyana were sitting together having a whispered the silence interrupted by their frequent giggles.

Other guests soon arrived including Rex and several clones from the rebellion, Riyo Chuchi, Emerie, Phee and to everyone's surprise Rampart along with Jax, Sami and Eva.

"Hello Edmon, glad to see you." Shep said.

"It's a pleasure Shep." Rampart nodded before going and sitting next to Emerie while Jax, Sami and Eva went to the other kids.

Soon Shep, Wrecker and Gregor announced that dinner was ready and the kids eagerly ran over, even batcher and Lucky got a plate of food each. After the kids had been served the adults got their share of food and everyone dug in.

"Good as ever Gregor, you continue to impress." Rex said after a mouthful of fried porg.

"Oh Rex you honey dripper Gregor giggled pretending to blush.

Rampart took a bite of a pirg wing and he suddenly started gasping for breath.

"...To hot.." He gasped out.

Crosshair handed him a bottle from the cooler which Rampart took a large drink from.

"Can't handle your spices Edmon." Crosshair teased.

"Usually I can, but that was spicy even by my standards." Rampart said.

"Sorry about that, that must have been one of my fireball wings." Fireball piped up.

"What's the difference?" Rampart asked.

"They're much spicier than normal porg wings, that's how I got my name, cause I love spicy food." Fireball said.

"I see." Rampart nodded taking another drink of water.

Daniel was typing away on his tablet while chewing away at a pork chop with a healthy amount of apple suacce on it.

Nemec sat down next to him.

"Whatcha working on Danny?" He asked.

Daniel swallowed his food and wiped some sauce off his chin before awnsering.

"My own starfighter, I'm hoping to build it one day, once I'm old enough to do so anyways." Daniel said.

"Can I see?" Nemec asked curiously.

Dan nodded and passed Nemec the tablet.

Nemec whistled impressed.

"That's a nice looking fighter, I'd hate to be on the wrong end of that." Nemec said.

Daniel nodded his thanks blushing slightly with pride.

Sunset was approaching and by now the younger kids were getting tuckered out.

Sami, James, Lyana and Omega were passed out against Batcher who was curled up on the grass.

Eva had crawled onto Rampart's lap half an hour ago and was out cold, head resting against her adoptive father's chest.

Rampart was chatting with Martha along with Daniel who was fast asleep on his mother's lap similar to Eva.

Cynthia and Katie were chatting, about something funny, the two giggling on occasion.

Boba, Jax, Zander and the triplets were huddled together talking in low voices while nearby Kordi read a book with Rowan lying across her lap fast asleep.

Meanwhile Tech and Phee reatreted too the roof where the two watched the setting sun.

"It really is beautiful isn't it?" Phee asked.

"It most certainly is." Tech nodded in agreement.

The two shared a kiss together as the sun set and the others had fun.

[twinsunstars]

Thoughts on The Bad Batch Episode 12 - Juggernaut - A Discussion Post

This episode had a lot of action, feelings, and a very unexpected return. Let's return to this week's episode filled with exciting moments and moments filled with worry!

(SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVE NOT SEE THE EPISODE YET! all screencaps from www.cap-that.com! https://www.cap-that.com/starwars/the-bad-batch/312/)

CX-2 returns to Mount Tantiss with Omega, Hemlock coming by to pick her up. He tells Omega to follow him, and CX-2 lets her go of her handcuffs, returning to his ship.

I'm being so serious, we have three episodes left. If CX-2 doesn't get unmasked by the next episode I'm going to lose it. If it ends up happening near finale or even in the finale, it's gotta be a character that's so important to the plot (*cough* Tech) that we had to wait so long for this. But I also feel like if this is Tech, shouldn't it have happened by now at least? I'm so confused.

I saw someone post about this and I didn't notice it at first, but if you zoom in on this shot above, you can see that Hemlock's glove is missing, showing both of his hands clearly. I rewatched the episode and noticed the error, but the second they go back into Tantiss he has it back on.

Hemlock immediately takes Omega to Emerie, wanting her to keep testing Omega to make sure she has the whole M-count thing. Emerie seems reluctant for a bit, but keeps doing her job. Omega tells her that she doesn't have to do this, but Emerie says she has to. But she is happy her sister is safe at least. Omega questions if she is truly safe, and she really isn't. Emerie likely knows this too, but she's still trying to open her eyes more to all the wrongs around her.

Hunter (with Batcher) gets back to Crosshair and a now awake Wrecker, feeling better after getting knocked out in the explosion from last week. Wrecker is upset Crosshair let Omega go, but Crosshair understood her choice and the fact that she let the Empire stop hurting the locals of Pabu.

I got so sad when Crosshair's hand started shaking again, he's so terrified of Mount Tantiss and what he went through. He tells his brothers that there is a way of trying to find Tantiss, and that is through the former Vice Admiral Rampart.

Phee shows up with AZI, having gotten here secretly away from the Empire's eyes. She finally meets Crosshair, and tells him that Tech has told her about him. My heart-

I would have loved to see all of the off-screen interactions Tech and Phee had, he really liked to talk with her, and she loved listening. Lula and Tech's goggles being visible behind Phee and AZI made me even more sad.

Phee goes with the boys to the Imperial labor camp on Erebus, making her ship fall to sneak into the planet undetected. Girl was over here driving in heels; she's such an icon. Wrecker and Crosshair were struggling in the back, and Hunter was worried. His helmet just flying freely when the ship is falling was so funny. Tech would adore Phee's flying since she drives like him. Phee manages to get them in and drops them off to access the prison and find Rampart.

The boys manage to obtain control of a tank transporting prisoners, which Rampart is in. I was not expecting to see him again after what happened in Season 2, as I kinda just left the character behind ever since he got arrested and Hemlock replaced him as the new reappearing villain a few episodes later last season. Someone joked that they Agent Kallus'd him because they added more hair to Rampart, which is just funny. Rampart manages to recognize Crosshair under his armor, and Crosshair was so sassy with him too, I loved it.

The Imperials on the prison base notice something wrong with the tank the Batch stole and go after it, leading to an action-packed chase. (And Hunter drives insanely.) Phee manages to rescue them just in time, shooting down one of the Imperial ships chasing them. Rampart had gotten stunned after trying to shoot the boys, and it was hilarious how they were just throwing him around like a potato sack.

The Batch ask Rampart where Tantiss is, but not even he knows. He says it was designed like that so it wouldn't be found. I was spending some of my free time on Wookiepedia and I wish we could send the Batch the information that Mount Tantiss is on the planet Wayland. It's not coordinates, but it's something.

Meanwhile, Emerie continues to test Omega's blood, and it comes out positive again. She looks at Omega, seeming deeply worried. She doesn't say anything, but Emerie has something on her mind. Hemlock comes back and Emerie tells him about the results, and he wants Omega to come with him. Omega goes to the same place he took Nala Se and Emerie previously, taking her down to The Vault. Omega asks questions about the M-count situation, to which Hemlock gives her vague answers and direct answers about what the Empire has been doing with M-count subjects.

Omega sees the kids in The Vault, frowning. Eva sees Omega and lifts her head from her game, and I just know that she and Omega will be besties. Omega asks who the kids are, and Hemlock replies that they are the pieces of the puzzle that they are trying to solve.

He says, "...this is your new home", and the doors immediately shut behind Omega. The chills I got; and Omega looked scared. The episode ends there, and Omega is locked up again with no direct escape yet.

There wasn't much that I wanted to discuss from this episode, but there are only 3 episodes left, so we are now truly in a big anxious countdown. How will Omega escape this time? Will the Batch manage to obtain coordinates to locate Tantiss? Where's Echo when you need him? Will Emerie wake up soon? Will CX-2 unmask himself soon? There's still so much to unpack, and so little time.

[jedi-hawkins]

The Bad Batch Episode 12 Watch Thoughts

spoilers (duh)

Oh Hemlock isn’t pulling his punches (also who was going to tell me his first name was Royce??)

BROTHERS!! No fight, they just got down to business

Crosshair's hand shaking again 😭

Admiral Rampart!?!?!?

“Why didn’t you say anything before” (why did I flinch at the slightest hint of hostility? *sobs*)

“Not a place I wanted to go back to” the season 1 parallel to Omega not wanting to go back to Kamino, I cry

“You must be Crosshair” GD I love Phee so much

✨Sparkling personality✨

Oh damn Rampart got fluffy, I kinda forgot what he looked like tbh

Damn Phee deadass pulled some piloting shit like Tech would (but reckless)

Just seeing them work together 🥹 how Cross and Hunter were bouncing ideas off each other, true leader and his second-in-command

“55? Oh yeah. Waiting on you.” Wrecker I LOVE YOU

“How touching.” HE SAID IT!!!!

Crosshair didn’t miss 🥹

Did Hunter just Tokyo drift the tank?

Wrecker did the gamer fist slam when the canons went down

Wrecker just shoved Rampart head first through the porthole (faceplant) and tossed him onto the ramp 😂😭

Omega in the vault 😭 (where’s Bayrn?)

I apologize for these being so short and discombobulated, written in a 3am haze while my body is hopelessly trying to fall back asleep. This week also just felt like a super short episode? Anyway, until next week, troopers.