#post tbb s2

[gun-roswell]

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Tech (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Nala Se, Hunter (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Crosshair (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), Clone Commander Mayday (Star Wars), CT-7567 | Rex, CC-5576-39 | Gregor, Clone Trooper Howzer (Star Wars), CC-3636 | Wolffe, Clone Trooper Hexx (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Veetch (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Medic Characters (Star Wars), Clone Troopers (Star Wars), Other Star Wars Character(s), Emerie Karr, Royce Hemlock Additional Tags: Fix-It, Retcon, Alternate Ending to TBB S2, Continued Story, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Techsalive, Tech Lives, Clone Commander Mayday Lives (Star Wars), Everyone lives, Read the previous parts for clarity, Canon-Typical Violence, Evil Empire, Clone Trooper Rebellion Against the Galactic Empire (Star Wars), Clone Trooper-centric (Star Wars), mentions of clone torture and medical experimentation, AngstHurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Found Family, Clones Save Themselves, Clone X project, Age Regression/De-Aging, Non-Linear Narrative, Inner Dialogue, Flashbacks, Self-Reflection, Several POVs, Clone Rebellion/Uprising Era, Kind of an Anthology series, discussions, They're trying to sort things out, Take their relationships in whatever way you want to, Slow Build, Mind Slicing, Clone Haven Server's Ship of the Month Event, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Other Tags to Be Added... Series: Part 10 of The Bad Batch Season Two Finale FixIt Series, Part 1 of The Bad Batch Anthology Series Summary:

Set after season two of Star Wars the Bad Batch (A Multiverse of Star Wars Fan Fiction by Yours Truly)

An alternate ending to the Bad Batch season two finale series continued!

A few open questions remaining after the last part ended: Whatever happened to the clones after the Mount Tantiss rescue? What of Emerie Karr? Will she ever be able to rule the galaxy? Is Hemlock really dead? If so, will he stay dead? What of the Clone X’s? Will they become “real people”? How about the exhilarated aging of the clones? Will Nala Se be able to reverse it? Will there be more familiar clones from the past making an appearance? Finally - will there ever be a happily ever after for the clones?

This story is continued from the AU saga of yours truly. That of the clones and their rebellion or at least their cause to save their kin. Alongside with backstories of the clones with a few flashbacks, their personal conflicts both past and present… all that jazz. 
A sort of an anthology of a tale of a thing if you will.

This story is part of The Bad Batch Season Two Finale FixIt Series and The Bad Batch Anthology Series // CHSOTM Work on your WIPs prompt

[comatomato]

sun-rise / kote

Marigolds were often linked to the powerful strength of the sun and represent the power and light that lives inside of a person.

Figured this was rather apt for where Cody is at right now in his story on the Bad Batch. Some gold peeking through the grey.

The sun will rise again. 🌤️

Check out more of my art over on Instagram! ✨

[ilovemedia]

Ok so this right?

But hang on what about this

There the same picture.

[legobenkenobi]

thinking about how orange is the armor color that means freedom for Mandalorians. and how the Bad Batch have added orange to their armor for season 2. they have gained their freedom by running from the Empire, and it shows!

but. Cody’s orange was stripped from his armor. just as his freedom was stripped from him. and the orange was replaced with grey. which is the color for mourning a lost loved one. (like Obi-Wan, who he was forced to fire on as he lost his free will)

so. while the Bad Batch have Gained freedom from the Empire, Cody has lost his to the Empire. and it is literally reflected on the most personal things Clones are allowed- their armor.

[februarys-wednesday]

hilarious to me that every single member of the disaster lineage got a taste of their own massive angsty lone wolf rebel medicine the second they got padawans like it's so funny. imagine ur dooku you've grown up matured some realized that yeah ok i didn't need to storm off THAT dramatically after my third argument of the day with my master. and then you get fucking qui-gon as a padawan and suddenly you understand why yoda said you were giving him wrinkles at his young age (412). and it keeps going like that. dooku gets qui gon. qui gon gets obi wan. obi wan gets ANAKIN. anakin gets ahsoka. a couple weeks hours into their new protege's padawanship they must have all been like fuck. i need to go apologize to my former master right now. that's hilarious to me

[nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius]

[sleepingsun501]

TBB SPOILERS 02:13 / Tech appreciation post

Seriously why is he so cute?? 🥰🥰 I love all of his little smiles so much!! He deserves to smile more. I love how he’s opened up emotionally through this season. So much growth and I’m so proud of him.

(The middle ones damn near killed me)

[mooshrems]

the brothers ever

[p4nishers]

i have read every post order 66 fic under the sun and i can confirm they all vaguely start like ep3. they all DEFINITELY have cody deflecting at one point or another. very suspicious. u wanna tell us sumn dave? wanna share something with the class??

[kybercrystals94]

I Won’t Hate You

By KyberCrystals94

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2023|Day 8|Prompt 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Rating: G

Words: 667

Summary: Crosshair finds out his siblings did not heed his warning.

Crosshair wakes in a cell. Not in a lab. Not strapped to a medical cot. The relief he feels is stunted and aching. He wishes they would just kill him, but he can’t quite stamp down the primal need to survive. So, he releases a shaky breath and tries to sit up.

“Here,” a child’s voice says, and small hands latch around his arm, futilely attempting to help him upright.

Crosshair reacts violently, scrambling from the sudden presence, tearing his arm away from their grip. His spine presses into the wall, and he stares into the startled expression of the clone girl.

“What are you doing here?” he rasps, trying to recover what little dignity he can gather. It isn’t much, and he can see by the pity in her empathetic eyes that she realizes she terrified him.

“Sorry,” Omega says, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Crosshair almost denies it, but there’s no point. Not while his body is trembling with adrenaline, not while his lungs are ejecting shallow, shaky gasps.

Omega picks up a canteen, holding it out to him. “Here,” she says gently.

Crosshair takes it but does not drink. He grips the container in his hands, focusing on the cool metal against his clammy palms. He can’t look Omega in the eye. “You didn’t answer my question,” he growls.

“Hmm?” Omega tips her head.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. What. Are. You. Doing. Here.”

Omega glares at him. “I was captured.”

“Did they not get my message?” Crosshair asks, venom still dripping from his tone.

“We did,” Omega replies, pointedly changing the pronoun to include herself. “But we decided to try and save you.”

Crosshair ignores the sharp, unnamed emotion that twists in his gut. “And how did that work out?”

“How do you think?” Omega bites back.

Crosshair sneers, “They must’ve lost their touch…to let you get captured so easily.”

Omega does not rise to the bait, regarding him shrewdly. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work. I won’t hate you, Crosshair.”

Crosshair is stunned for a moment, staring down at the blond girl who stares back steadily with familiar, copper brown eyes. Eyes he has seen a million times, but only a few times that mattered. Hers matches those of the few, able to meet his hard gaze without flickering away. Hers are curious like Tech’s, kind like Wrecker’s, wise like Echo’s, and soft like Hunter’s. Perhaps sharp, like his. And then there’s something of her own, a gentle hope that hasn’t been stained by the cruelty of the galaxy.

Crosshair sees all of this, but turns away, moving to focus on the cold floor of the cell. “You should,” he says, but the venom has leaked out.

“Why?” Omega asks.

“You know why,” Crosshair mutters, gripping the canteen. He wants to throw it, just to expel some of the tension building in his aching muscles. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to scare her. Doesn’t want her to think he’s mad at her.

Out the corner of his eye, he sees Omega moving to climb up on the cot next to him, sitting against the same cold wall, her shoulder brushing his arm. Crosshair stiffens but doesn’t move away. “I know,” Omega says, her voice soft with the lilting of her accent, “that it wasn’t your fault. I know you are still our brother. I know that you tried to warn us. I know you tried.” Omega slowly lets her head rest against his shoulder, giving him a moment to react. He doesn’t, so she leans her weight against him. “I know our brothers love you and miss you.”

The nameless emotion snakes around his heart. “Are they coming for us?” Crosshair whispers.

“Of course, they are,” Omega says with guileless confidence.

“And then what?”

Omega is quiet for a moment, and Crosshair wonders if she’ll answer him. Then her voice comes, hushed words. “We’ll go home,” she says.

END

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil

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[imarvelatthestars]

Ner Kar'ta

Pairings: established Echo x Reader

Warnings: Echo has phantom limb pain. I made the executive decision to have his legs amputated to the knee. Some miscommunication, but it ends well.

Notes: Is Wrecker my Bad Batcher? Yes. Is Echo quickly taking over my heart? ...Also yes. I am Soft for him.

You don't remember why you're awake, you only know that you're vaguely conscious and swimming in the dark of your room. Something shifts on the bed, heavy and foreign, and for a moment your sleep-hazed mind thinks there's an intruder, but then you hear the soft exhales of your lover, the shaky, unsteady trembling of his body radiating into the bed, and your anxiety stills for a moment before reigniting again.

"Echo?" Your voice is coarse from sleep and you still can't make out the shape of him until one of the lights on his headgear blinks. A yawn washes over you. "Mm. You okay?"

There's a moment where you think his breath catches, then, "I'm fine, cyare. Go back to sleep."

Sleep is calling out to you. Your eyelids are heavy and you can feel crusties in the corners of your eyes still. The blankets are perfectly warm enough, everything is just right for you to simply slip into a dream and Maker do you want to, but... it's just not the same if Echo's not lying next to you. And truth be told, you miss him even when you're sleeping.

So you worm your way across the bed to curl up around his body like a lothcat, your head near his hip and your torso curved around his backside so the rest of your body balls up and nestles into his other thigh. You could fall asleep like this. For a moment, you almost do. His body heat is radiating through his sleepwear and yours, and there's a gentle movement to the bed that's enough to lull you into unconsciousness like you're a youngling all over again.

But something bristles uncomfortably in the back of your mind. Because Echo's not talking to you, not touching you like he usually does when you snuggle. He's rigid and unmoving, except for the jostling of his leg.

Suddenly the world is in perfect focus, screaming into clarity as you rocket from your daze to full, attentive consciousness. You're scrambling into a sitting position and it's tossing Echo around a bit as your knees dip into the mattress, but he doesn't say anything, doesn't make to stop you. This is wrong.

"Echo?" You grasp at his shoulder, gentle but worried. "Love? What's wrong?"

He shakes his head, but he doesn't look at you. Something is very wrong.

"It's nothing, I... can't sleep."

You lean into him, take his chin in your hand to turn him toward you, even though you can't really see him, and you feel how tense his jaw is. He'll break a tooth if he clenches much harder. Your hand wanders down to his thigh, soothing over the muscle until you realize he's got a hand there too. It's pressed into the space just above his knee, kneading the muscles with enough force that you know it hurts. But you also know it can't hurt much more than whatever pain he's already in.

"Cyare," you chide, but there's not much bite to it. You're more worried than upset with him for trying to hide this. "How can I help?"

You both know there's nothing you can really do. This phantom limb syndrome, as the medics have termed it, is as perplexing to them as it is to Echo. They still can't figure it out, how to stop it, how to ease his suffering, and you know that's not their fault. The medics have done their best to help him, but it doesn't quiet the rage that simmers low in your gut every time the man you love is doubled over with pain.

"Stay," he grits.

"Always," you promise as you settle yourself behind him, one arm draped loosely up and over the shoulder to settle on his collarbone. Your other hand stays on his thigh and rubs gentle strokes over the trembling expanse of his muscle.

You stay like that until the pain subsides, until the frantic thumping of his heartbeat stops pounding into your skin, until your knees are stiff from kneeling and your lower back twinges a bit at the awkward position, until your love finally sighs and slumps back into you. He's exhausted now and some of your own fatigue has started to creep back in and whisper in the back of your mind.

"Come back to bed."

That's all it takes for your trooper to settle in beside you. You let him maneuver himself however is comfortable for him, although if he let you you'd absolutely wrap your every limb around him and never let go, bury yourself in his scent and warmth and the wiry strength of his arms until the world went away, until it was just the two of you. But his nose resting in the curve of your shoulder, his breath stirring your hair, a scomp on your waist, and a leg between yours will do nicely.

You're already drifting off when you reach blindly for his scomp arm, nearly knocking him off in your confusion. The metal is cool against your lips when you kiss it.

"Mm, love you," you manage between sleepy mewls.

The breath in your hair and on your neck stutters. Then comes the sound of your name, deep and rough in Echo's throat. You sigh happily and give his scomp another kiss.

"Love all of- oh," you yawn, "all of you." And then you're cuddling it like it's some plush tooka doll and you're five years old, pulling his arm over your shoulder so you can tuck the tip between the pillow and your cheek and nuzzle your nose against the base. "Doesn't feel right t' sleep without you."

His voice rumbles to life at your back. "You're too good t' me."

A snore jolts out of you, snapping your head up to attention for a moment as you try to stay awake just a bit longer, just for him. "Uh uh. Not good 'nough. F'r you."

A final thought passes through your brain then. My Echo.

His voice draws you out of the darkness. You're not sure if it's been two seconds or two hours, but you mumble into some sort of awakened state at his beckoning.

"Cyar'ika?"

Your brain wavers between awake and asleep for a few long moments. Echo or sleep? Echo? ....Or sleep? Both sound good. Sleep sounds better right now.

"Mm." It's little more than a graceless grunt, a little grumpy on the fringes.

The lukewarm metal pressed into your face shifts and you grumble in frustration as it starts to disappear. "Stop... Lemme slee-...." Your mouth is too tired to work properly. And then you fall back asleep for a breath, only to be jostled back awake by the sound of your snoring. "Shuddup."

"Cyar'ika?" he says again, and you turn over a little to look at him better. You can only see the lights on his headpiece.

"What?"

Echo chuckles softly. His nose rubs up against your cheek. "You really mean it?"

The fuck is he talking about? Sleep is tugging at you and you're fighting it with everything you have just for him to start talking nonsense?

"Mean what?"

His kiss on your cheekbone soothes your irritation a hair. "I'm yours?"

You deadpan. "Oh. Mm, yeah, honey," and you turn back onto your side so you can finally get back to sleeping.

Someone snores again. Annoying. The shape of a scomp arm is carving itself into the side of your face. The warmth at your back shifts, it breathes and trembles a little, and then a hand slides over the crown of your head.

"Marry me."

You're nodding as if the words buzzing in your ears make any sense. "Mhm."

"You okay?"

Wrecker's voice is gruff, but soft, curious. It snaps you out of your head and you look around for a second, blinking in confusion until you finally realize where you are and who you're with. Your gaze shifts to the floor.

"Oh. Yeah, I'm fine."

Except you're not, and neither is Echo. He's been acting strange for almost the entire day. He woke up like normal, stiff and grumpy and tenderly affectionate like he always is, but then something had changed between you stumbling out of bed for a shower and him getting his morning kaf. He wasn't looking you in the eyes, he was avoiding your touch, and you still can't figure out why.

Wrecker scratches at the back of his neck and exhales a shaky kind of laugh. "You sure? 'cause usually Hunter has ta peel the two of you off each other. And you look sad. And so does Echo."

It surprises you sometimes just how observant the rest of the Batch can be and especially Wreck. But he's right.

You glance at the extended gangplank and what little snippets of the outside world you can see - a landing platform, some droids, sunlight curving around the shape of a clone's shoulders and casting his shadow on the ground. It looks like Hunter. Great, because what you really want right now is for someone else to be privy to whatever stupid thing you've done to upset your lover.

"I think he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

But as you shoulder your way around the big guy and start down the ramp, your mind flashes back to the previous night. The way Echo had been shaking, your hand on his thigh, his scomp under your cheek when you fell asleep, the sweet nothings whispered in your ear. Except you don't remember any sweet nothings. You remember cyar'ika and I'm yours and... marry me. Electricity goes sparking up your spine, your eyes goes wide, you swear your heart stops beating and your lungs forget how to function.

He asked you to marry him. Echo asked you to marry him. All those years spent missing him when he was on Skako Minor, the overwhelming joy when Rex told you he was still alive, the moment you first reunited with him, crying and shaking and refusing to let go, all of it had led you to this moment. A promise, a vow to be shared with the only person who really mattered in the whole wide universe and you were half asleep when he finally popped the question. Something stings along your waterline as your eyes go misty because you don't even remember your answer. You would be a fool to say no, you would never say no in your right kriffing mind. But maybe you did? Maybe that's why Echo's been off the whole day?

You go stumbling out of the ship like a drunk, twisting and turning around in a wild attempt to find Echo's face among the chaos littering the landing platform. You see Tech performing a diagnostic on one of the wings, Hunter chatting with a reg, Crosshair lurking in the shadows of a stack of crates and chewing on a toothpick, but no Echo. Your stomach suddenly cramps up; you're going to be sick if you can't find him.

"Echo?" you yelp. It's a little embarrassing how panicked you sound, all sick with worry like a little youngling. You scurry over to Hunter. "Where's Echo?"

He frowns. "What's wrong?"

Maker, will people just stop asking you questions? "Where is he?"

You can only imagine what Hunter sees when he looks into your eyes, but whatever it is seems to be enough to grant your request. He tilts his head so his chin is pointing to the opposite side of the ship. "He's helping Tech with repairs-"

You almost lose your balance tripping over your own feet, then the gangplank, then a spare droid frantically trying to wheel out of your way. It's all a blur for a few seconds until you scramble underneath the Marauder's wing and there he is - one knee bent, his good arm braced against the hull of the ship and his scomp attached to a port. His brow is furrowed and damp with sweat. He looks tired. But he's there.

"Echo."

When he looks at you, it's like the rest of the galaxy melts away. His expression is strained, but it still lights up when he sees you, even if only slightly.

"Cyare," he sighs. "What-"

Your feet have carried you to his side before you can even register it. "I love you," you say as your palm lifts to cup his cheek. And as Echo tilts his head back to look at you properly, his eyes go big and soft and it grips you by the heart like he always has, ever since the first day you met him. "Of course I'll marry you. If you still want me?"

The scomp clicks when it unlocks from the port. He's fast on his feet, one arm still braced against the hull of the ship to keep him balanced as he stands, but then he's on you, pressing a kiss to your lips and your cheeks and your eyes, humming and rumbling into your skin while you sigh and giggle against him.

"Ner kar'ta."

"Uh-uh," you say as you shake your head. "You're my heart. Always."

Your hand presses flat against his chest, tucked into the spot just beside his heart where a blue handprint once marked his armor. That was a long time ago. Much has changed since then, but you know this one thing has never changed and it never will. You will always love him and he will always love you.

[sailforvalinor]

I love love love how The Bad Batch continually takes the time, even in the smallest of ways, to remind us that Omega is just a kid. “It ate the crew?” she breathes, horrified. She shrinks against Wrecker. “It ate the crew…” Yeah, she’s a genetically modified clone, a mean shot with a Zygerrian energy bow, and just as much a part of the Bad Batch as any of the others, but she doesn’t have the advantage of the years of battle experience that the rest of the batch has—she’s good and she’s brave but she’s just a little girl.

[immagods]

We make our own decisions, our own choices. We have to live with them to.

You can not tell me that Cody wasn't thinking about order 66. About ordering that shot. About shooting Obi-wan down. Watching him fall. Thinking about how he just killed the man he loves. The man he could truly be himself with. And living with the guilt ever since that day. The day the he lost absolutely everything. His brothers. His lover. His freedom. And he thinks about it every day. And it breaks his heart.

[ilovemedia]

Clone memes i made (also i spelt Wolffes name wrong sorry)

[ilcuoreardendo-fic]

"It's unanimous. Even killjoy over here agreed."

The Bad Batch, Season 2, Episode 1 "Spoils of War"

Echo has some of the best expressions.

[kurara123]

The Bad Batch Season 2 Ep. 1 Spoilers Without Context