#501st deserved better | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stellarbit · 1 year ago

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Shadows of the Order

the sad batch x reader

5.5k words themes hurt and comfort

You were separated from the Batch when Order 66 was executed on Kaller. Even as a Jedi dropout you weren't safe. Left behind, you have to recover and restart in the world after the Republic. You'd hoped to never run into Clone Force 99 again, but that hope ran out one day. featuring: a b1 battle droid

You know who deserved better? The clones. You know who else? The B1 battle droids. So I stuck a clanker in here for funsies. Had a ton of fun writing this. Hope y'all enjoy a little anguish. I'll be doin a spicy one next.

You fought alongside Clone Force 99 for a long time before the Battle of Kaller. Before Order 66. After meeting the padawan, Caleb, at the rendezvous point, you’d split off from the group to assist a team of troopers on the mountain while the boys joined General Bilaba.

The troopers you encountered recognized you from your days with the 501st. Despite your repeated efforts to clarify that you were no longer a Jedi, they seemed unconvinced. Fortunately, after dispatching a group of droids, the remaining Separatist forces were routed towards the main front, allowing your group to do the same.

As you neared the midway point down you noticed the troopers falling back. Sliding to a stop in the snow, you turned back. There were about 10 of them, all standing around one holding a holocomm of a hooded figure. Half of them looked at you in sync, fixing the grip on their guns, the rest followed a heartbeat later.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Somewhere far down the mountain you heard screaming and blaster fire at the same moment the troopers turned their guns on you. You took off away from the troopers before the first shot rang out.

“Get the Jedi!” A lone trooper pierced through the chaos.

Quick thinking led you to drop a stun grenade, followed by another, as you sprinted onward. The explosions managed to incapacitate some of the troopers, but not enough. Switching your blaster to stun mode, you sought cover behind a nearby tree, emerging only to neutralize the nearest clones before a shot hit your right shoulder, propelling you into a desperate sprint away from them.

With escape and evasion as your only viable options, the Marauder seemed too distant to reach in time. Instead you aimed for a waterfall you spotted while landing. It was a slim chance, but your best hope for losing the troopers.

As you fled, you deliberately dug your fingers into the wound on your shoulder, leaving a trail of blood in your wake. It was a risky move, but if you had any hope of evading capture, they needed to track you. When you saw the water through the trees you wasted no time in ripping away your chest plate. As soon as you got to the crest of the waterfall you launched your chest plate over the edge.

With one glance over the cliff, you gritted your teeth, pressing into your injured shoulder, crouched, and lowered yourself over the ledge. You grabbed high over the ledge and drug your bloody hand back down over. One more look below to ensure a safe landing spot and let go. Relying on the Force to guide your descent into an alcove leading behind the cascading water.

Once there, you swiftly shed the remaining pieces of armor, discarding them into the rushing stream as you shifted farther into the veil of the waterfall.

When you finally heard the troopers at the cliff edge, all you could do was listen, wait, and hope they fell for it.

“Looks like she tried to scale down,” one of them remarked, his voice carrying over the sound of rushing water.

“There! In the water, I see her armor!” Another trooper's voice rang out, sending a jolt of panic through you as you desperately sought cover. Their voices dropped too low to hear before you caught the tail end of the conversation.

“Confirmed, Commander Grey. The Jedi has been neutralized. Visual confirmation obtained,” a trooper reported, the cold finality of his words chilling you.

The clone trooper paused, most likely receiving transmission. “Yes sir. Alright boys, we are to rejoin Commander Grey and head out. His forces eliminated Bilaba and Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan. Gather the stunned troops and let’s move out.” That was the last thing you heard before the troopers left.

Your heart stopped. The blood in your veins froze. You lurched for something - anything - to steady yourself on. One moment everything was normal and the next you were being gunned down by clones you risked everything for. Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan.

There wasn’t enough air in the tiny alcove to think, the waterfall was too loud, the water hitting your face too cold. Desperately, you gripped the slippery rocks as your legs gave out.

Nothing made sense. Questions raced through you, each more unsettling than the last. Had all of the clones turned on the Republic? Why were they targeting Jedi specifically? Clones that served with General Bilaba for years suddenly gunned her down.

Nothing added up. If the orders affected all clones, there was a good possibility that the Bad Batch was also following them. Despite their independent streak, they were still clones, some orders had to be followed. It was a sobering realization - one that left you feeling vulnerable and nauseous. You weren’t going to be safe until they left. If they left.

The thought of aiming a weapon on the members of Clone Force 99 cracked something inside you. Besides, it was foolish to think you had a chance against all of them. With an entire army of reinforcements, attempting to take them on would be nothing short of suicidal.

Survival became your sole focus. There was no time to dwell on what went wrong or how to escape the planet's unforgiving terrain. For now, all you could do was stay hidden, biding your time until the coast was clear.

One by one, you discarded your armor and any identifiable markers into the water. It wasn’t about shedding your identity; it was a practical decision, one you could handle. Not long after, the sound of footsteps echoed from above. You pressed yourself against the rock again, your senses on high alert.

An eternity seemed to passed before the person moved. “The Jedi target was neutralized. If she’s not already dead, she’s as good as it.” It was Crosshair’s voice, cold and detached.

There was another moment of silence before you heard Tech’s voice, “Affirmative. Blood stains indicate she attempted to scale down the cliff and subsequently fell.” His tone was as clinical as ever but you almost fooled yourself into thinking there was something else to it. “Pieces of her armor are wedged in the rocks below. Crosshair is correct, if she did not perish on impact the likelihood of her survival is negligible. We need to leave.”

They weren't out there to rescue you; they were there to confirm you were dead.

It was all too much to process. Every muscle, every bone, every nerve in your body seemed to fail, leaving you a trembling mess. When the two men finally left, you didn’t know.

“We don’t leave our own behind.” You heard Hunter’s voice and heard his lie.

They left you. You fought for them, yet they hunted you down and abandoned you.

Long after night had fallen, you mustered the strength to climb out of the alcove, your injured shoulder protesting every movement. Descending into the battlefield, you searched for a salvageable ship and supplies. Amidst the wreckage, you stumbled upon the one thing you weren’t looking for.

General Bilaba’s lightsaber. She must’ve lost it in the struggle. Such a valuable thing lost to the snow and wreckage, not even retrieved. Disposable. You held the cold metal in your hand before tucking it away.

You found one ship that might manage to get off the ground. Nearby, you spotted a partially disabled battle droid, still in remarkably good condition despite its current state. It appeared to have been incapacitated by a stun grenade. As you examined it, Tech's lessons on droid maintenance flooded your mind, particularly the techniques for reprogramming them for combat purposes.

Kneeling beside the droid you flipped it onto its back to access programming. You’d pulled it off before, reprogramming battle droids to counter attack. You just never thought you’d need the skills like this.

The process was far from seamless. You electrocuted yourself on the power supply, nearly damaged a circuit board while removing the restraining bolt, and the rewiring process dragged on longer than expected, especially under the cover of darkness.

Eventually, the battle droid sprung to life, clutching its head as it sat up. You lowered yourself onto one knee as the droid adjusted itself. "Where am I?" its questioning began, its metallic voice filled with confusion. "Is the battle over? Did we win?"

Hearing the droid address you instead of immediately engaging in combat felt oddly surreal, but given the day's events, it was perhaps the least strange thing. "What is your primary directive?" you asked, trying to gauge its functionality.

It clunked a hand against its head. "Huh, that's odd. I don't seem to have one."

That was a start.

You rose to your feet and offered your hand. "In that case, how about we team up and find a way off this rock?"

Its head swiveled from side to side as it processed the proposal. "You mean, I get to choose?"

You let out a small scoff and maintained your outstretched hand. "Your options are coming with me or staying here to rust."

"Fair point," the droid responded, almost cheerfully, as it reached for your hand. "So, what's the plan for getting off this dump?"

You gestured toward the ship you hoped to salvage. "Can you handle starship repairs?"

“Sure thing, boss. Want me to clean it up?”

You threw it a puzzled look, “Why would I-” You shook your head, “No, we need to repair it enough to get it off this planet.

“Well, that doesn’t make sense.” The B1 unit pointed at the ship. “That ship doesn’t need repairs, we just crashed it.”

Maybe picking a battle droid for an assistant wasn’t the best choice. “Was it your group that crashed it?”

“Yep!” It said too proudly. “Happens all the time. But I told you, this one doesn’t need repairs to fly.” The droid paused for a second, tapping a metal digit to the tip of its face, then added. “Yet.”

That didn’t bode well for survival. You waved for it to follow you, “Let’s see if you’re right.” Over your shoulder you asked. “What can I call you?”

“My identifier is OOM-672.”

Walking amongst dozens of disabled B1 units you mused, “Looks like you’re about to be one of the last OOM models in the galaxy. So why don’t we cut that down to O2?”

“Wow!” The way it vocalized almost added syllables to the word. “Yeah, O2 sounds much better! What do I call you? Master?”

You cringed at the sound of that. “I’m not your master, O2. We’re going to have to settle with being friends or buddies.”

“You got it, Buddy!”

Thankfully, O2 was right. The ship could fly and it had enough fuel to get you far from Kaller. Enough to get you all the way to the Outer Rim if you wanted. It was risky, but following the pattern of the day, it was your only chance at survival. You just didn’t let O2 pilot.

After the rise of the Galactic Empire, you and O2 settled on a planet in the Mid Rim. You scavenged and sold enough equipment from Kaller for a comfortable amount of credits to start off with. You pieced together a new identity, often concealing your face beneath a helmet and relying on a voice modulator. Being dead in the eyes of the Empire had its advantages.

The best way to stay hidden, you figured, was to stay in plain sight.

You wormed your way into ownership of a small inn. Although, your background as a Jedi and a soldier left you ill-prepared for running a business, and you struggled to turn a profit.

“O2!” You shouted from the lobby.

The battle droid sauntered in from the dining area. “Yes, Buddy?” The droid’s nickname for you always worked a smile out of you.

You tossed them a rusted-out metal part, which they scrambled to catch, their movements clumsy and uncoordinated. After a few failed attempts, they finally managed to grasp it securely. “The circulator for our boiler is busted. Can you head to the market and fetch a replacement? The parts dealer should have one available.”

“Roger, roger!” O2 chimed enthusiastically, ready to depart.

You yanked them by the shoulder. “O2,” You warned. “Do you remember how to pay?”

They rolled their head in an exaggerated display of weariness. “I know, I know - ‘charge it to the tab.’”

Raising an eyebrow, you waited for more. “And?”

O2 tapped a compartment on their chest, revealing a few credits inside. A result of some previous tinkering done by you. “And I have the extra credits.”

“And what’re they for?” You pressed.

“For ‘just in case.’” They replied

Stepping forward, you pushed the compartment closed. “In case of trouble, O2,” you reminded them firmly. Giving them a light knock with the back of your knuckles, you added, “Give me a call if you find yourself staring down the barrel of a blaster.”

As far as O2 was concerned, they had it easy. You rescued them from decommissioning and in return, all you asked for were simple tasks and the opportunity to tinker with their hardware. The tinkering, more often than not, turned out for the better - at least most of the time.

When you and O2 first arrived, the presence of a battle droid initially unnerved the townsfolk. However, they grew accustomed to O2's quirky demeanor. O2 was more goofy than intimidating almost by design. Plus, after a few instances of O2 causing trouble with the neighbors, they quickly learned to keep their hands off the droid. Often with a not so subtle reminder of a vibroblade at their throats.

O2 ambled through the town, exchanging waves with the occasional vendor. Stalls and shops lined the narrow, winding streets, colorful canopies providing shelter from the sun for the patrons below. Amidst the hustle and bustle, droids weaved through the crowds, delivering goods and providing services to customers.

As O2 approached the parts dealer, raised voices caught their attention. Nearby, at a fruit stand, a vendor held a pear just out of reach of a young girl. "That's not fair!" the girl protested, reaching for the fruit. "I already paid you!"

Deviating from their path, O2 made their way toward the girl. She appeared to be a young human with light hair, a visitor to the town.

"Hey, stop that!" O2 called out in their attempt at an authoritative tone. They reached the girl and bent slightly to address her. "Are you in trouble, young human?"

The girl turned to O2, visibly puzzled. After a moment of assessing the situation, she nodded slowly. "Uh, yeah," she replied, more confidently this time. "Yes. He's taking my money but insisting I still owe him more." She pointed a finger accusingly at the vendor.

O2 looked between the vendor and the little girl several times. When they finally grasped the situation, they exclaimed, “Ohh! You’re in trouble and need more credits. That’s perfect!” They poked open the compartment on their chest, revealing the credits.

The girl shook her head in disbelief. "N-no, I've already paid," she insisted, casting a disdainful glance at the vendor. "He's just trying to cheat me."

Raising a finger in a gesture of understanding, O2 interjected, "You're in trouble and these credits are for 'in case of trouble.'" They plucked out a few credits and pivoted at the hip to offer them to the vendor.

From behind the booth, the vendor's expression shifted to one of quiet annoyance, yet he begrudgingly began packing a bag with pears. "There's no trouble, O2," he retorted curtly, dropping the bag into the girl's arms. "Now, move along, kid."

The girl frowned at the man but did turn away. She looked up at O2 with a smile. “Thanks,” She pulled a curious face and stepped back from the droid for a better look. “You’re a B1 battle droid. What are you doing here?”

“I’m purchasing a new part.” O2 held up the broken circulator as proof.

She held back a smile. “No, no. I meant, weren’t all battle droids supposed to be decommissioned.” She gestured around her, “So what are you doing out here alone?”

O2 didn’t have time to respond when a man yelled, “Omega! Get away from that thing!” A male with a face tattoo shoved through the crowd and slammed the battle droid in the chest with the hilt of a blade.

“Whoa!” O2 yelled, stumbling backward into the fruit stand.

The little girl squeezed between O2 and the man. “Don’t hurt them, Hunter!” She threw her arms out to shield O2. “They were just helping !” Three other men arrived behind Hunter while O2 righted themself.

One of the men, with a socket for a hand, pushed to the front of the group and pointed his prosthetic at the droid. “Omega, you don’t know what that clanker is capable of.”

“Hey!” O2 whined in protest and shook a fist at him. “You can’t call me that!”

“Says who?” Growled the largest man of the group.

“Says my buddy!” O2 started reaching for its head to send out a comm when the fruit vendor grabbed his hand.

“O2!” He laughed nervously and patted the droid harshly, “There’s no trouble.” The vendor pointed a finger at the men. “I’m not dealing with their friend today, so move out.”

“Friend?” The big guy repeated incredulously.

The cyborg hovered his hand over the blaster at his hip. “Where’s your master, droid?”

O2 thrusted their head in a sassy manner, “I don’t have a master.”

Hunter moved Omega to the side and put his knife just below O2’s head. “Why don’t you take us to this friend of yours?”

“That depends.” O2 said skeptically. “Are you looking for an inn?”

Hunter passed a look to the men behind him. “An inn?”

“Only customers can come to the inn. So - are you looking for an inn?”

Hunter lowered the knife and jerked his head to say ‘get going’, “Sure thing. Now, let’s go.”

“Roger, roger.” The droid said with a little salute and then tapped his fingers to the tip of his face. “Say, do I know you guys?

“Move it, clanker.” The cyborg ordered again.

Back at the inn, you waited in the lobby reading through bank statements. The front door was open to the street, allowing you to hear O2’s distinctive footsteps approaching. You pushed away from and around the desk to greet them. “That may have been your fastest run yet. How much - oh!” You stopped mid sentence when a young girl trailed in behind the droid. Behind your headgear you smiled, “Did you make a friend?”

The little blonde waved up at you, “Hello.”

A dent in O2’s chest plate caught your eye. You motioned for the droid. “O2, what did you do to your chest plate?”

“Well, I didn’t do it.” The droid sassed, but moved forward and leaned down for you to inspect. You reached up, held their head, and moved it side to side for inspection. Other than the dent they were fine. You patted their face in relief when, from the corner of your eye four figures filed in.

You went stock-still at the sound of a familiar voice, Hunter’s voice. “You own this clanker?”

This was it. This was the day you died.

Giving O2 one last pat, you turned to face the Bad Batch standing in your doorway, as formidable as ever. Hunter led the group, with Echo on his left, Tech on his right, and Wrecker flanking Echo. Crosshair was conspicuously absent. Their mismatched armor was newly painted in vibrant colors.

Silently assessing them, you took a moment to compose yourself, shoving your fear and anger as deep as you could. Their demeanor said they didn't recognize you and you needed them gone before they did.

"Sure," you replied vaguely, your voice muffled by the voice modulator. Keeping your gaze fixed on the clones, you instructed O2, "O2, grab my satchels from the back." Without hesitation, the droid complied.

"What are you doing with a separatist battle droid?" Echo's voice bristled as he stepped forward. "Do you realize how dangerous that thing is?"

Images of Echo tending to your wounds flooded in, abruptly interrupted by the recollection of red blaster shots narrowly missing your head.

"OOM-672 has been reprogrammed," you replied, waving your hand dismissively. "They no longer pose a threat and wartime objectives have been nullified."

"Incorrect," Tech said as he tapped the side of his helmet to move his visor. "If the droid's reprogramming is faulty, it could revert to its original directives at any moment. Depending on the data stored in its memory, that could prove dangerous should it fall into the wrong hands." He advanced toward O2, pointing a finger. "Allow me to examine it—"

“Their programming is fine.” You instinctively took a step back, bumping into O2 with the bags you requested. One had spare credits for bribing them out of your parlor and, in case that didn’t work, the other contained a blaster and Bilaba’s lightsaber.

As you sorted through the first bag for credits, you spat, “No one lays a hand on the droid except me. Especially not a bunch of clones." With a flick of your wrist, you tossed a handful of credits at Hunter. "Now get out of my lobby.” You made the mistake of addressing them as clones and hoped the odd comment passed over them. They obviously didn’t look like other clones to the untrained eye.

"Oh!" O2's voice chimed in recognition, but you swiftly raised a hand to silence the droid.

“Do we look like we work for the Empire?” Wrecker asked, almost growled, with hands on Omega’s shoulders.

Hunter glanced at the credits before tossing them back. “Just let us look at the droid,” he urged.

Without missing a beat you caught the credits, brandished the blaster, and aimed it at the leader. Immediately, the other brothers aimed their blasters at you. "Got a malfunction in those helmets?" You gestured toward the exit with your weapon. "I said leave. No stranger gets their hands on my droid."

“Strangers?” O2 stepped to your side and pointed at the group of clones. “They’re not strangers. We know them.”

Your blaster dipped for a moment, frustration nipping at you before you firmed up your grip. “O2, knowing someone for five minutes doesn’t mean you know them.”

“Just calm down.” Hunter said slowly.

“Five minutes?” The battle droid shook their head in confusion. “We go waaay back.” They hummed a thoughtful sound. “Although they did stun me on Kaller.” A chill gripped your spine at the mention of Kaller.

"Kaller?" Omega's gaze flitted between the men around her. "Where's that?" The rustle of shifting armor filled the lobby as the four men exchanged glances, their blasters trained still on you.

“Who are you and how did you get that droid?” Echo's voice carried a forceful edge as he pushed you.

“Get out.” You repeated with more venom. “Clones follow orders. That’s an order.”

Hunter slowly raised his hands, removing his helmet and revealing his tattooed face. The sight of him made it hard to breathe through.

"We're not with the Empire," Hunter declared. "And we're not big on following orders, either."

"Liar!" Your scream reverberated through the room, the voice modulator straining against your volume. Something flickered in Hunter's expression.

For someone with no skin in the war, you were proving to be awfully reactive.

"Hunter," Tech intervened firmly, prompting you to swing your blaster in his direction. "Look at that blaster." You glanced down at your weapon, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

“What about it, Tech?” Hunter asked.

“That blaster has nonstandard modifications. Only five like it exist.” Tech explained, his tone serious.

“Not the time to be admiring blasters.” Echo snapped.

“The issue is,” Tech shot an annoyed look at his brother. “They are my modifications.” His grip relaxed slightly. “We have four of them and the other was - ”

You fired a shot at Tech before he could finish and attempted to fire another when Hunter lunged at you. He knocked the blaster from your hand and swung for your head. Wrecker shoved the kid behind him while you and Hunter exchanged blows, his hitting much harder than you remembered.

You saw Tech activating a stun grenade as O2 reached for your blaster. Yanking a vibroblade from your hip, you rammed the hilt of it into the side of Hunter’s head, causing him to stumble back. Swiftly, you lurched in the way of the stun grenade, intercepted it, and threw as far as you could behind you.

Echo took no time in disarming and disabling O2 while Hunter regained his senses and grabbed for you. His touch was a breath away when you thrust out your hands and blew him back with the Force. Before Hunter could register what happened, Wrecker grabbed you by the neck, and yanked you from the ground.

You clawed at his hand but couldn’t stop the giant crushing your windpipe and ripping off your headgear.

Seeing your bare face, livid and unable to breathe, shook Wrecker and gave you the chance to slam your feet into his stomach. He dropped you to the ground where you writhed and gasped for air. Your dropped blaster was nowhere in sight, but the other satchel was.

Still retching for air, you threw a hand out and the lightsaber flew to you. Green light blasted out of the hilt, parallel to the ground and putting a thrumming barrier between you and the clones.

“A Jedi?” Omega said in wonder, poking her head around Wrecker. Wrecker, notably, didn’t push her back behind him.

They all lowered their weapons and Tech, Echo, and Wrecker removed their helmets. Different shades of shock on all of them. “Sarad?” Tech spoke softly.

“Stay away from me.” You growled from the ground. Slowly, you repositioned yourself, strengthening your stance to pounce or run.

“We thought you were-”

“Dead?” You cut Wrecker off and cut a look at Tech. “Guess you aren’t as thorough as you think.” At that, Tech’s eyebrows hit his hairline.

“We didn’t follow that order.” Hunter interjected.

“Liar!” You lashed out. “I heard the troopers. ‘Clone Force 99 took care of the padawan.’”

Hunter started lowering himself to your eye level. “We let him escape.”

Echo stepped forward, his eyes avoiding yours. “We thought you were dead,” he admitted. He closed his eyes for a moment before finally meeting your gaze. “We thought the other troopers got to you, but we came looking for you as soon as we could.”

You didn’t dignify him with a response, in your eyes the only thing they deserved were holes through their chests.

Out of all of them, Tech stood the straightest, his demeanor showing no sign of shame in their handling of the situation. Still, he thought carefully on how to say what he needed, his hands clenching and unclenching as he processed it.

When he locked eyes with you, it was clear he’d considered his words meticulously, repeating the process in his mind multiple times before coming to the same conclusion

“With your blood and broken armor, there were two plausible outcomes,” he began, counting them out with his fingers. “First, that you perished either by the troopers or the falls. The second, that you…” His gaze momentarily shifted away, seeing your armor in the rocks. “... that you escaped.” Returning his gaze to yours, he continued, “In both scenarios, our intervention would have only made things worse. And Crosshair-”

You jumped to your feet in a challenge, Hunter quickly positioning himself between you and the others. “I don’t believe you,” you hissed, swinging the saber to the side before snapping it back in front of you. “So finish what you started.”

Hunter maintained his steady gaze as his brothers holstered their blasters. “We won’t fight you,” he assured, his tone resolute. Your eyes darted between them, searching for any sign of aggression. Seconds stretched on but the men held their ground.

“He’s telling the truth,” Omega whispered, joining Hunter at his side. "All clones were programmed to follow that order." She cast a meaningful glance at the men surrounding her. "But their altered states made them immune to the order."

For months, anger had been your constant companion, fueling you through each passing rotation. Anger at the Jedi Purge, at the failures of the Republic, and most of all, the seething rage at the Bad Batch for leaving you behind to bear the weight of it all alone. Months of grief and pain don’t just disappear.

The room seemed to warp and blur around you, your grip on the saber beginning to falter. Clinging to it tightly, you gritted your teeth, fighting to maintain your composure. The world snapped back into focus when tears finally breached your resolve, slipping down your cheeks unchecked.

“Then….” your arm dipped before falling limply at your side. “You left me for dead.” Your voice cracked and the words came out in a sob. “You left me behind.”

You thought the pain of them hunting you was the worst thing you could experience. The realization of abandonment was worse. A tight knot formed in your stomach, threatening to make you sick.

Driven by months of simmering anger, you shook your head through your tears. , “I survived without you, and I’ll keep surviving without you.” You let the green light of the saber fade. “So just leave.” The last words came out less like the command you wanted it to be and more like plea.

Wrecker ‘s eyes went wide, “You think after all this time,” he gestured toward you, “when we just got you back, we’d just leave?” A defiant look passed over him. “Sorry, not happening.”

“Sarad,” Tech spoke like it was just the two of you. YoYou closed your eyes briefly, savoring the familiarity of his tone. For a moment, you thought they might all disappear, as if they were never there. “Leaving you was a choice we never wanted to make. But it was the choice that led us here and ensured your survival. Keeping you alive was more important than keeping you by our sides.” He nodded, standing firm in his choices. “Your survival was the only acceptable outcome.”

The lightsaber grew heavy in your hand.

Wrecker reached out with a pleading gesture. "The regs would've— we couldn't..." He faltered, searching for the right words, but Omega touched his forearm and urged him forward.

Wrecker stepped through his brothers and although you flinched like you might run he reached out and touched your face. First with one hand and then a second when you tried to turn away. Holding you like that, seeing you safe in his hands, made it hard for Wrecker to ever imagine letting go.

Tears continued to flow down your cheeks, falling over his hands. Wrecker swept them away with his thumbs before pulling you into his arms. "Sorry, Sarad. We're sorry."

Your hands hovered on either side of you, it was the first time you’d truly touched another organic lifeform since Kaller. The lightsaber hit the ground and you fell into Wrecker.

You’d let yourself feel angry at them all those months alone, but, in an instant, it was overshadowed by the grief of having been without them.

Pulling just out of Wrecker’s embrace you rubbed away the remaining tears. “I’ve missed you.”

“We missed you too.” Echo answered for the group.

Looking between them all, you felt like the world was a little safer. There were a few things standing out to you though. First being the little girl with them and Crosshair’s absence.

Immediately reading you, Hunter touched Omega’s shoulder. “A lot has changed.”

"I can see that," the girl smiled warmly at you, her expression oddly familiar despite never having met before.

Tech breezed past you, heading straight for O2. He knelt beside the droid, adjusting his goggles before turning to you. "So, you really salvaged this droid from Kaller?" You affirmed with a nod, prompting a look of mild disturbance from Tech. "And it's proven to be useful?" Another nod from you. "Well, that's just as surprising as your survival," he remarked, his tone tinged with genuine curiosity.

"Be kind to O2," you interjected, joining Tech by O2's side to rouse the droid. "They're my friend."

Echo scratched the back of his head, a sheepish expression crossing his features. "That's... going to take some getting used to."

Omega joined you and Tech, her eyes wide with fascination as Tech began to point out various features of the battle droid. A smile tugged at your lips as you watched the interaction unfold. The inn you had purchased never truly felt like home, much like Coruscant and the Jedi Order before it.

But here, amidst the Bad Batch, you finally felt a sense of belonging. You were home.

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archivewriter1ont · 3 months ago

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Thoughts on The Bad Batch's "Superiority Complex"

(Bear with me -- I wrote this on my phone)

Someone brought up that the Bad Batch were the aggressors in their first fight with Kix and Jesse, and I've seen that take elsewhere too. These are just my thoughts on that...

I think that an important piece of this "the Batchers and the regs" puzzle (other than Crosshair, the snark, just naturally being more caustic than the others) is how being defective is addressed earlier in the Clone Wars and in the series as a whole.

Krell basically uses "Are you defective?" as a threat at Umbara. Bric (trainer for Domino Squad) is openly ridiculing and abusive, going so far as to punch a cadet he thought wasn't good enough and saying things like "Even this bad batcher would be better than you" as a very demeaning thing. Even 99 realized how demeaning it was because he protested that the Dominoes were better than that. We also see with the Fives-chip arc, etc, that the Kaminoans are not the nicest beings to their “creations.” The trainers weren't either (see Dred Priest and again, Bric and Company).

Their "special project" status makes it very likely that the Kaminoans did experiment on or test the batchers in different ways than they would have done with the regs. The Batch very probably was confronted with their differences, what were seen as faults and flaws even as they were made into a commando squad, every moment of their lives. That not only has the potential to hurt the four of them and make them more likely to have a chip on their shoulders, but it also may have gotten around as rumors on Kamino. Also, Rex and the other 501st members we see with the Batchers haven't been on Kamino for a while, so the treatment from regs might have gotten worse as the Batchers had to interact with other units in training.

All that to say, the Bad Batch very likely experienced far worse than what we hear or see on screen, from trainers and their creators as well as other clones. They have (in all likelihood) existed on the edge of decommissioning for their entire lives, always having to prove that they were good enough to excuse their genetic faults. All four of them display a sort of hard confidence that indicates they know they’re the best because they had to be. While others passed the tests, they had to break records. They were pushed to excel the average just to prove their worth, to confirm that they deserved to live.

This is another reason I prefer reading the Star Wars books and comics to watching the animated shows, in all honesty. The two versions of Quinlan Vos – animated and written – is a great example of the disconnect between (obviously, the best that could be expected from) an animated “kids” show and what I think is a better representation of what the war was actually like.

P.S. This is also why I HC that 99 was deeply involved with the Batch, because I honestly feel they would have a worse complex if they hadn’t had him to guide them how he could.

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb hunter #sw tbb #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #captain rex #commander cody #clone medic kix #clone trooper jesse #bad batch thoughts #fanfic author thoughts #no hate just my thoughts on this

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eclec-tech · 1 year ago

Text

This was sad, sweet, and funny all at the same time. These boys deserve ALL the motherly kisses and cuddles!

A Mother's Lullaby

Jedi!Fem!Reader & 501st

Summary: After returning home from a long campaign, you and your soldiers find it difficult to fall asleep. Echo has a bad dream which starts a chain reaction of clones entering your room looking for a different place to sleep for the night.

Pairing: 501st & Jedi!Fem!Reader

Characters: Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, Hardcase, Tup, Kix, Dogma

Tags & Warnings: platonic clone cuddles, snuggles, and kisses, smidge of angst, comfort, fluff

Word Count: 3k

Author’s Note: I came up with this one from a dream I had. All gestures are 100% platonic. The lullaby the reader sings can be found here. Honestly, these boys need all the cuddles, snuggles, and love they can get. As always, please enjoy! 💚

After being away for several rotations on a long campaign with the 501st, you have finally made it back home to Coruscant. You leave your weary troops in the barracks and head towards your chambers to clean up and get some rest. You enjoy your first warm meal in what feels like forever and hop in the shower to wash the grime off your skin. You let the hot water caress your body as you stand underneath its invigorating spray, never wanting to leave the warmth.

You finish your shower, slip on your night clothes, and crawl into your bed. You nestle under the covers and take a deep breath, letting the familiar scents of your room fill your senses. There’s nothing quite like sleeping in one’s own bed. At last, you can get some good sleep. Sleep during campaigns is always a hit or miss and never the top priority, but when you’re here, when you’re home, you can sleep comfortably knowing no one is trying to end your life or the life of your men.

However, tonight you endlessly toss and turn in your bed. You're exhausted, you know it, you can feel it. You want to sleep desperately, but something is keeping you awake. You continue to toss and turn, but slumber seems to escape you. You sigh and stare up at the ceiling in defeat. So much for a good night's rest. After all those long nights on the hard ground with blaster and cannon fire, you wish for nothing more than to sleep.

Unexpectedly, you’re pulled out of your thoughts by a presence entering your room. It’s too dark to see anything, but through the force, you can see exactly who it is. “Echo?” You ask while sitting up against your pillow.

“Ah, sorry to wake you General,” Echo answers while putting an awkward hand on his neck.

“I wasn’t asleep,” You admit with a sigh as you rub your forehead. “Are you having trouble sleeping too?”

“I…” Echo begins to answer, but hesitates, unsure of how to say what he wants to say. “I had a bad dream.”

You cock your head to the side and give him a sympathetic smile, “Dreams are only dreams, Echo. They can’t hurt you.”

“Yeah,” Echo agrees half-heartedly. “I know.”

You sense he has something else to say, but he is too nervous to ask you. “Is there something else you want, Echo?” You ask to try and get him to tell you. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”

Echo opens his mouth to speak, but then closes it. He doesn’t want to step out of bounds with you as his General, but he also doesn’t want to go back to the barracks. Finally, he musters the courage and asks, “Can I sleep here tonight?”

You’re initially taken aback by the request, but your heart softens towards the tired clone. The nightmares that plague him must be horrific if he wants to sleep with his General. You think about it for a moment, but decide that it won’t hurt to let him stay the night with you. You pat the empty portion of the bed to the right of you to show him your approval, “Come here.”

Still a little wary of the idea, Echo meanders his way over to the bed and crawls from the base up to where you are. You stretch out your arm and invite him to rest his head on your chest. He obliges with a little hesitancy and you gently drape your arm over his side and back. You can feel every ounce of tension in his body escape at your touch. He breathes deeply and lets out a relaxed sigh, knowing nothing can hurt him now.

You smile at the clone clinging to you and run your fingers through his hair. As a Jedi, you’re not allowed to have attachments, but there’s nothing in the code that says you can’t show compassion. These clones. They’re children, stuck in adult bodies, fighting a war that they never asked for. They never asked to be created. They never asked to be expendable. They never asked to be slaughtered. The least you can do is to offer them some sort of comfort.

As you settle in with Echo and to try to get some rest, you sense another presence come into your room. Perhaps you should keep your room locked from now on. As the figure enters your dark room, you can see through the force that its Fives. “Looking for Echo?” You ask knowingly.

“Uh, yeah,” Fives answers with a jolt of surprise. “How’d you know?”

“The domino twins will always be inseparable,” You chuckle softly. “Where one goes, the other usually follows.”

“I didn’t think we were that predictable,” Fives rolls his eyes.

“Let’s just say that it doesn’t take a force wielder to know your thoughts,” You explain with a smile. “Would you like to join your brother?”

“I can’t sleep well without him nearby,” Fives admits as he crawls over the base of the bed and scooches next to Echo.

“Better?” You ask while looking over at him.

“Much better,” Fives answers as he nuzzles into the blankets.

You look down at both the clones now sleeping in your bed and you smile. You never thought something like this would occur, but here you are. It’s not that you don’t want them here, but you do feel a weird sense of maternal instinct as they lay there in your presence. Clearly they feel safe with you, but you’re not sure why. Other than being their General, leading them into battle, force healing their wounds, and giving them pep-talks, you’re not sure why they are attached to you.

Your thoughts are once again interrupted by a figure entering your room. You let out a slightly exasperated sigh when you realize it is yet another clone tip-toeing his way into your bedroom. “Looking for something, Jesse?” You ask the sneaking clone.

Caught by surprise, Jesse stumbles back into the wall. “Uh, well, you see,” He begins to explain in earnest. “Echo and Fives aren’t in their bunks, and they’re usually up to no good when they’re together, so I went looking for them.”

“Well, you found them,” You point out in a hushed tone. “They’re right here, sleeping with me.”

Jesse pauses as he thinks about the situation before him. “Can…” He begins to ask. “Can I sleep here too?”

“I don’t see why not,” You answer. Your bed is definitely big enough, but you’re still not sure why all these clones want to sleep in your room. They have the barracks and bunks of their own, and they sleep with all their brothers. It is odd to you, but nevertheless, you let him climb into bed with you, Echo, and Fives. He crawls over the end of the bed and situates himself on the left side of the bed, across from the others. Close, but not close enough to touch you. You smile at his reservation.

As you begin to nod off, you’re pulled awake by yet another disturbance in your room. You wonder if you’re ever going to get any sleep at this rate. You look up at the figure standing across from the bed and with a sigh you ask them what they want, “What do you need Hardcase?”

“Oh, you knew it was me, huh?” Hardcase asks with a little embarrassment.

“You have a very distinct pattern in the force,” You answer with a small yawn.

“Really?” He questions with great interest. “I do?”

“Technically, you all do,” You explain further. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Jesse, Echo, and Fives aren’t in their bunks,” Hardcase begins to explain. “I thought they went to the refresher, but when they didn’t come back, I got worried.”

You smile at him and his concern for his brothers. “Don’t worry,” You soothe. “They’re right here with me.”

“What?” He questions with reproach. “They get to sleep with you? No fair!”

“Would you like to sleep here too?” You propose, thinking one more clone wouldn’t hurt.

“Really?” He asks with excitement. “Can I?”

“Only if you keep your voice down,” You hush as you feel Echo stir under your arm.

“Oh,” He quickly whispers. “Right. Gotcha. I’ll be quiet.”

Hardcase crawls into bed next to Jesse and Jesse wraps an arm around his brother to make sure he feels included. You look \around at the group of clones covering your bed and let out a small chuckle. You’re not sure how one turned into four, but there’s no going back now. You can only hope that no more wayward clones will show up in your bedroom looking for a different place to sleep or their missing brothers.

However, your thoughts betray you as you sense Kix’s force presence entering your room. Should have seen that one coming. “If you’re looking for Echo, Fives, Jesse, or Hardcase, they’re here with me,” You announce, deciding to jump to the chase.

“You sound exhausted,” Kix jests as he folds his arms. “I can make them leave, you know.”

“It’s fine,” You answer while running your fingers through Echo’s hair. You remind yourself why you began this little clone sleepover in the first place and smile softly. “Sometimes, we just need each other.”

“Amen to that,” Kix agrees. “You got room for one more?”

“Of course,” You smile at the medic. “Grab a spot wherever you can find one.”

Kix crawls over Jesse and Hardcase, kicking them playfully in the process, and flops himself across from you near the edge of the bed. He grabs a fistful of covers and nuzzles them softly. You smile wide at his childish movements. They really are just children. Children who had their childhoods stolen from them. You can’t quite reach Kix, but if you could, you would rub his back to lull him to sleep. Maker knows medics need their sleep.

No sooner does Kix settle in, do you feel another force presence enter the room. This one is a little more cautious, as if he’s contemplating that he doesn’t belong. You feel his hesitation and call out to him, “Dogma. You can come in.”

“General,” He acknowledges as he steps closer. “I don’t mean to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding, Dogma,” You reassure the hesitant clone.

“Can…” Dogma begins, still feeling like he’s not allowed to ask for this. “Can I sleep here too?”

Your heart softens at his innocent and heartfelt plea, and you smile at him, “Yes, Dogma. You’re welcome here too.”

He smiles back and crawls across the edge of the bed and nestles neatly just below Echo and Fives. You wonder about Dogma sometimes, because he keeps to himself a lot and has trouble opening up to others. You feel great reservation from him, even on the battlefield. But you’ve heard from the others that his previous General was abusive and uncaring. It breaks your heart that anyone could be so malicious towards such beautiful souls. They didn’t deserve that.

Suddenly, you feel an intense presence of sadness and fear enter your room. Your heart begins to race as the force scrunches around you. You want to jolt up out of bed, but you don’t want to disturb your sleeping clones. As the force becomes less distorted, you can finally see who it is. “Tup?” You ask with concern. “Are you okay? You scared me.”

“They left me alone,” Tup says through a shaky breath while clenching his fists. “I don’t want to be alone.”

The pain in his voice breaks your heart. Every ounce of maternal instinct in you tells you to get up and hug this sad clone until all his pain is gone, but you can’t get up at the moment, not with all these sleeping clones surrounding your every side. Instead you invite him to come join you by patting the open real estate next to your left side. “Come here, Tup.”

He rushes over to the bedside and crawls over Kix to get to your side. You open your free arm and let him rest his head on your chest. You can feel a little shake in his body so you rub his back and place your head atop his. “Shhh. It’s alright,” You soothe. “I’ve got you. Your brothers are right here with you.” You feel the force settle around him and his breathing becomes soft.

“I wish I had a mother,” Tup admits into your chest.

You're surprised by the statement, but it’s not a completely unfounded thought. The clones are test-tube babies. Copies from an original source, with no mothers to speak of. Perhaps that is why they feel safe with you. Perhaps, because you are a woman, they feel a certain level of maternal attachment to you. That’s why they feel safe. That’s why they want to sleep here with you. That’s why they relax in your presence and melt under your touch. They just want a mother.

“What’s it like having a mother?” Tup asks out of curiosity.

“I don’t really remember mine to be honest,” You answer. “I was taken from her at a young age to be trained as a Jedi.”

“Oh,” Tup answers sadly.

“But,” You continue. “I do remember that she was warm and kind. She had a good heart and would sing me lullabies to go to sleep.”

“Lullabies?” Tup wonders at the strange word.

“Yes,” You explain in a hushed tone. “Mothers sing them to their children to help them go to sleep.”

“Would you sing us a lullaby?” Tup asks as he nuzzles further into you.

You’re shocked at the question. No one has ever asked you to sing, let alone sing a lullaby. “Well, I don’t know...” You hesitate.

You feel Echo tug gently at your hem and whispers, “Please?”

There were several more ‘pleases’ and ‘mhms’ coming from the lumps on your bed. You look around at the seven sleepy clones and wonder how you got yourself into this predicament. But, their innocence captures your heart and you feel a tender fondness for their simple request. How hard could it be to sing them a lullaby? You close your eyes and think back to when you were still with your mother and try to remember the words and the tune she sang to you.

Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby

Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay

And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow

Bless you with love for the road that you go

May you sail far to the far fields of fortune

With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet

And may you need never to banish misfortune

May you find kindness in all that you meet

May there always be angels to watch over you

To guide you each step of the way

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

May you bring love and may you bring happiness

Be loved in return to the end of your days

Now fall off to sleep, I'm not meaning to keep you

I'll just sit for a while and sing loo-li, lai-lay

May there always be angels to watch over you

To guide you each step of the way

To guard you and keep you safe from all harm

Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay

You finish the lullaby as tears form in the corner of your eyes. The words of the song unlocked the sweet memories of your mother from so long ago. She was a strong and loving woman, and even though you don’t remember her face, you could feel her embrace you through the force as the lyrics of her soothing lullaby escaped your lips. Such a soft and simple song, but so full of love, care, and comfort.

You look around lovingly at the clones sleeping softly in your bed and smile. Your heart is full. They’re all sleeping peacefully, probably for the first time in a long while. But your happy thoughts are pierced with poison as you remember why they exist. The bloody war. The war that no one asked for. The war they lay their lives down for. Not all of them may come back, but for now, yes, for now they are safe here with you.

You look up as you sense the final presence you knew would show up eventually. “Captain,” You whisper, trying not to wake the clones. Rex came into the bedroom while you were singing the lullaby and leaned against the wall while he waited for you to finish.

“I was wondering where my men went,” Rex chuckles while looking at his sleeping soldiers spread out across your bed.

“They needed a little mothering tonight,” You say as you leave a gentle kiss on Echo’s head.

Rex smiles, “I can see that.”

“Will you join them?” You ask. “There’s room for one more.”

Without much convincing, Rex pushes himself off the wall and crawls onto the foot of the bed. He lays sideways at the edge, positioning himself to guard over his men. Rex is a great leader and a great Captain. He cares deeply for each of his men and puts their safety above his own. It’s just like him to take the most vulnerable and uncomfortable position so his men can relax and feel covered under his dutiful watch. You smile fondly at their brotherly bond.

You let out a small sigh and lean over to the left to leave a small kiss on Tup’s head. You would kiss them all goodnight, but the rest are too far out of your reach. “Codladh sámh, my little ones,” You whisper while leaning your head back against the pillow to finally let yourself fall asleep. “Dream of a life far away from this one.”

Tag List: @nahoney22

Masterlist

A03

#so sweet #the clones deserved better #seriously though how big is that bed #that's like a 1500+ pound sleepover #reader & 501st #the 501st #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #clone trooper jesse #clone trooper hardcase #clone medic kix #clone trooper dogma #clone trooper tup #captain rex #pineapples’s 212 follower event

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oceansssblue · 4 months ago

Note

Hi I’ve never done a request before, but your writing is really good.

Can you do prompt 7 Snow fight, that becomes ABO smut. Both super chaste, but finally become carnally desperate for each other now that they’re alone. They mark each other.

Alpha Rex, Omega YN.

Sure thing love! I'm honoured to write your first request 🥰 I don't use YN though, so i'll just go for neutral reader instead. Hope that's ok!

Here's a fluffy and spicy ABO Xmas oneshot for you! It took me ages to write so I hope you like it haha.

Xx, Blue.

"HOT AND COLD" – REX / GN READER 🔥💖

WARNINGS: ABO AU, alpha/omega dynamics, sex scene, breeding kink, knotting and marking and other general omegaverse things.

Life Day couldn't have caught the 501st in a better place. They had just finished a relief mision on Xerak; and stopped to refuel in Asaca IV in their way back to Coruscant. Seeing as they weren't going to be in time to spend Life Day in the Capital –much to Anakin's chagrin–, the General had decided to make a night-stop at Asaca. And he might have been dissapointed for not being able to share the festivities with a certain senator; but the 501st were ecstatic to enjoy some free time in the icy planet –a very appropiate scenery for the circumstances–.

The young Jedi had retired for the afternoon –perhaps in an attempt to catch Padme on a quick holo-call at least–; and Rex had given his men leeway as well. After an exhausting one-week long mision –with surprisingly minimal casualties–, everyone deserved to rest.

Torrent hadn't wanted to miss the oportunity, though; and after a quick nap in the cruiser, they had all but ran down the ramp to have their share of fun in the snow. With the purpose of playing a little snowfight, Rex had been recluted as well; assigned to be one of the team's captain –it couldn't have been any other way– while the Domino's took charge of the other. Some of the natborns –medics, intelligence officers, maintenance staff, etc.– had asked to join them; and that had been the tragic end for Rex's focus, for you had decided to participate as well.

Out in the battlefield, the captain had no problem on shutting his desires down and pushing his –possesive– dangerous thoughts away. You were tucked away in the safety of the cruiser, after all, carefully analysing the 501st's advances and quickly finding out alternatives to their course of action and any other problem that may had arrised with the rest of Intelligence; but here, here... Rex couldn't help but be atuned to every single thing about you. Each innocent movement, each twitch of your facial expresion. How excruciatingly sweet you smelled even with a dose of scent blockers carefully coating a protective layer over your neck glands. He wanted you so – bad.

It was unfair, really, how unbeliavably pretty you looked in your winter uniform; a basic military set shouldn't have looked that good on anyone. He was used to seing you in dark green –not that you weren't hot in that either–; but the nats snow uniform was a combination of white's and blue's, and it was such a similar palette to the 501st's colours that something inside of him rumbled in passionate aproval. You weren't just cute, though; for all you looked innocent and naive with your cheeks and nose flushed pink from the cold, Rex knew the truth was very different. He had been able to watch how your mind worked in more than one tactical meeting; and kark, wasn't intelligence sexy. There was no doubt why you were Admiral Yularen's second hand –even if you were younger than most–.

Some part of Rex wished you had joined his team; but the other one rejoiced at the oportunity to see you fight. To feel that quiet fire directed at him. You were an omega, yes; but you weren't fearful nor meek, and he loved that about you. It couldn't be easy to be constantly surrounded by a majority of alphas and their often contradicting and agressive feromones; and yet you handled it stoically and beautifully.

Perhaps Rex was too excited for a simple friendly snowfight –he chuckled at the thought, dodging Jesse's snowball and laughing his ass off when Hardcase answered with one that hit him straight in the nose–; but he couldn't help it. He had felt attracted to you –liked you, and dare he even say that other big, scary words too – for far too long now; since that time when you had politely brushed his strategical idea aside and offered a better option for an incursion. Rex had observed you in surprise –you were new in the cruiser back then, and he had never heard you intervene before–; and when Admiral Yularen had agreed with you and you had shot him a sheepish, warm smile, Rex knew he was done for.

In the present time, you take revenge for Jesse; throwing a quick succesion of snowballs at Hardcase until you eventually manage to get him. Instead of showing any anger or irritation, though, his vod laughs and pushes a thumb up in the air for you. You shoot the trooper a proud smile, and Rex shakes his head in fond amusement observing the two of you.

Fifteen minutes later, the captain is proud to say he is soldiering through the little snowfight untouched. It's not that his reflexes are nothing special –though they're obviously as good as any other soldier's–; it's just that his men fortunately don't have the same aim with snowballs than with their blasters. Torrent doesn't quite like that, though; so the game shifts and somehow ends up focused around him. The Domino's team new objective is to take a hit at Rex; while the captain's own team double their efforts to protect him. It's kind of ridiculous, and Rex doesn't really want to be the center of attention in this game –as well–; but everyone seems to be laughing and having fun, so he chuckles and let them be.

His team is doing a good job protecting him –hell, Hardcase had even tackled him to save him from a snowball– until you take all of Rex's attention again. Perhaps frustrated at your team's failure, you abandon the improvised barricade the troopers had managed to put together; crawling out of safety and sprinting towards the captain, snowball clutched in hand. Rex eyebrows shoot upwards, instantly worried. This is just a game, yeah, but what the hell are you doing, exposing yourself like that?

This time, his brothers hold no sympathy. Someone points out at you with a warning shout, and the inmediate succesion of snowballs thrown at your way almost makes Rex flinch.

It's impossible for you to dodge all of them. One impacts right against your knee –perhaps with too much strength, he might need to have a chat with his vods about that later–; and it buckles, making you fall and crash against the snow unceremoniously with a pained groan. Rex is helpless to watch as you hit the back of your head in the fall; and he's already half-way towards you before he has even realised it himself.

The game stops, and silence lays heavyly between the two teams; everyone hesitantly worried about you still sprawled in the snow, not attempting to move even if to ask for the fight to stop. Rex can feel his heart trying to beat it's way out of his chest. He drops to his knees besides you, gold brown eyes flickering over every inch of your face; scent unconsciously proyecting fear and worry.

"Mesh'la, are you okay?" He tries not to pannick in front of everyone, but your eyes are closed, and...

You suddenly lurch forward, tackling his towering form to the side and quickly smearing snow on his shocked face with one hand while the other pushes his chest against the ground. You grin widely, proudly sitting on too of him; and Rex is so fucking relieved to see that you're okay that he can't help but join the laughter around him.

You laugh as well, both hands now clutching his chest plate; and Rex takes his revenge rolling the two of you around and trapping you against the snow. You squeal while trying to dodge his hand, the corner of your eyes wrinkling with happiness; but your strength is nothing compared to his, and he manages to smear a big chunk of snow over your face and neck too.

"That was a dirty move" he points out, lips turned up into a little smile.

You grin up at him, relaxing under his body and accepting your fate. You kind of deserve it.

"War is not won without some of those, dear Captain" you sing-song. "You should know".

Rex rolls his eyes –face still amused– and finally pushes his body away from yours, standing up and offering a hand to you. Panting slightly from the snowfight effort, you gladly accept it and pull yourself up to your feet; shooting a smile at him.

You try not to dwell on how good he had felt on top of you. How his body was the perfect size to make you feel small and vulnerable underneath him; how warm he felt even with his armour on, how deliciously heavy. How pleasure had zig-zaged through your legs and spine towards your crotch under the attention of his golden gaze and his overpowering relieved, happy warm scent. Masculine. Strong. Gentle. Safe. Alpha.

Yes, you try not to think about it. And fail.

Rex calls the game off –ignoring Fives' proud "that's our win for sure!"– and everyone makes their way back to the cruiser, chatting happily in little groups and joking around, spirits lifted and in a good mood. He walks by your side, a bit distracted thinking on how fucking sweet you smelled, how right it had felt to have you underneath him and looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. He tries to push that aside and act normal. This is not the time to get hard and indulge in his fantasies. He can do that later; when he's good to grasp his cock in his hand and stroke himself over the edge.

They've barely made it into the main hall when another trooper comments distractedly "mm, smells good in here"; and Rex answers with an involuntary warning growl. The brothers in their inmediate vecinity stop in their tracks, turning towards him in surprise. There has never been a doubt of Rex being an alpha; but he had always managed to control his instincts better than most. For him to react like that... Well, it's certainly unusual.

You push the palm of your hand against the side of your neck, alarmed for both the trooper's comment and Rex's growl –and fuck, didn't that make you wet–; cursing at not feeling the semi-sticky texture of your scent-blocker on top of it. No wonder the clones were able to smell you...

"Officer..." Kix carefully takes a step closer to you, eyeing Rex's dangerous eyes cautiously. "Forgive me for being blunt and intrusive, but if you are in pre-heat I'd sugest for you to go back to your quarters and take a rest".

Get the fuck out of here where there are all but alphas around you, is what you hear, and you nod while blushing in embarassment.

"Y-yeah, I'll do that" you don't bother to correct his statement, not wanting to publicly humiliate yourself any further. "Thank you for your concern, Kix".

The medic nods politely, and Rex inmediately squares up his shoulders next to you.

"I'll walk you to your room" he offers, though his voice holds more finality than anything.

Kix frowns –perhaps worried about your safety– but you give the Captain a short nod and the two of you quietly make your way to your private room.

Stopping outside of your door, Rex clenches his fists and and tries not to let his thoughts linger on the knowledge of you being in pre-heat and all the wonderfull ways he could help you through it. The picture of you suffering in silence, fighting the pain and ache writhing in your bunk, your nest empty and never feeling more vulnerable and lonely that then and there, makes the clone's heart break. He wants to be with you. He wants to tell you how good you had built their nest; make you cum in his tongue until the pain melts away and fuck you in a place where, even if just momentarily, you could both call home.

But he's nothing but a diligent soldier; too polite and respectfull to ask that from you. Too afraid of offending you. Of not being able to see your warm smile directed at him any longer; even if he's only able to enjoy it from a certain distance now. He'd still chose that over nothing at all.

And so Rex swallows every desire –every wish– down and gives you a short nod.

"Take it easy, ma'am" he manages to sound firm and formal. "I'll inform Admiral Yularen that you'll be out of service for a few days for you".

Rex turns around to let you be, struggling to push his instincts aside for much longer; and pannick swells inside of you.

"No!" You impulsively snatch his wrist to stop him, eyes nervously flickering around while you confess in an embarassed whisper. "I'm not... I'm not in pre-heat".

Rex faces you in utter confusion; silently analysing your worried expresion. He breathes your scent in; closing his eyes momentarily and battleling himself. You certainly smell like it. What are you on about?

"But you..." he clears his throat, a small tick in his jaw miraculously being the only external sign of how hard it is to resist to you. "Forgive me, but you certainly smell like it?"

Your cheeks feel on fire. Oh, it is so incredibly embarassing for the reason of your burning desire to point this out out loud to you. You kind of want the floor to swallow you.

You slowly release your hold on him and try to give him a vague explanation.

"It's the snow. You smeared it on my skin and it has washed away the scent blockers, I believe".

Rex frowns.

"That explains why we're able to smell you, but it still..." he hesitates, knowing this is a far from innapropiate conversation to have with anyone, really, and certainly not with you. "That trooper could notice it from meters away with his bucket on. Are you sure your heat isn't around the corner?"

"It's you" you blurt, throwing all caution away.

He's too intelligent to know there's something else going on. And you're out of excuses. Tired of hiding the permanent attraction you have for this handsome, brave man in front of you. The only alpha you've come across that has really made you feel week in the knees. That you'd want to bond with.

"Me?" Rex asks, stunned, unconciously taking a step forward and crowding you against the metal door.

You feel a rush of warmth flowing through you.

"Yes" you swallow your nervousness down, tilting your chin up slightly to look up at him. "You turn me on as quick as a lightsaber ignition whenever you get close to me. And when you holded me under your body out there..."

You pause and confess.

"Captain, this is my body's usual reaction to you, really. You all just haven't noticed because I'm usually quick to hide it under another layer of blockers".

Rex shudders. This is all he has ever asked for. This is the only thing he had ever wanted for himself, the only selfish thing the clone wanted to keep and have in a life of servitude protecting others. Hearing those words coming out of your mouth... Fuck, Rex has never listened to something more beautiful.

"So you want me?" He passionately asks, carefully observing your reaction while he gives in and gently presses you against the door, his body covering yours. "You're telling me that if I wanted to carve myself a place deep inside of you, you'll let me?"

Rex holds your face in his palms, caressing both cheeks with his thumbs reverently, his eyes filled with raw desire and need. His closeness –his words– makes you dizzy with your own. Your breathing grows heavier and your heart speeds up inside your chest.

You can feel the captain's warm breath over your parted lips; almost whispering to you.

"That I could knot you, if I wanted to, right now?"

The image sends a gush of wetness between your legs; and your whole resolve breaks down with the question –the petition, the offer–, an involuntary whimper escaping your throat while you all but impatiently scratch your nails in his shoulder plates.

With just a few words, he has turned you from a controlled, picture-perfect officer to a mess of desire and want.

"Yes" you almost pant. "Yes, fuck, Captain, please".

Rec groans; closing his eyes shut for a few seconds, controlling himself for not to rip your clothes off and fuck you right here and there, out in the corridor where everyone can see you, and tenderly presses his forehead against yours.

One hand goes down to clutch at your squirmy waist. With his other, he thumbs your lower lip.

"If we're going to do this, I don't want titles in here" he finally breathes out, pulling back just enough to lock his eyes on yours. Then, he sort of promises "If you're going to moan something, it's going to be my name".

He searches for an answer in your face; and you inmediately nod wide-eyed, impossibly turned on and excited. You want him to rail you. You want to ravage him.

"Yes, Capt... Yes, Rex".

The way you say his name, so lovingly, so reverent...

Rex slams his hand on the door lock, and gestures you inside with a small, almost defiant tilt of his head.

"Come here, then".

You're not exactly shy –you are confident and sharp most of the time–, but finding yourself completely naked in front of the most handsome man you've ever layed eyes upon, no matter how turned on you are, is not an easy task. You're okay with how you look, with your body; but he's... Outerwordly. His bronze skin, golden brown eyes, trained muscles and strong jaw, war and tenderness mixed in every inch of his body... You bite down onto your bottom lip nervously.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable?" He asks, noticing your hesitance, knees spread from where he's sitting in the edge of your bed –from where he had watched you undress–, naked as well.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other; goosebumps over your skin.

"Not exactly" you answer quietly, shooting him a tiny smile, not really able to explain to him what you're feeling. "Just... Vulnerable".

Rex smiles too; and it's the softest, warmest thing you've had the chance to see on him.

"Fantasy and reality can be quite different. No matter if you've desired this as much as I've done, it's nothing but normal to be a little nervous. Perhaps even scared" he makes a small pause, and after his eyes flicker over every inch of your face, adds just as firmly as he commands in battle. "But I can promiss you are safe with me. I will never disrespect you or treat you unconsiderably. I will listen to you and cherish you just like you deserve".

Warmth blossoms inside your heart. Your eyes blurr. You had thought that Rex only wanted to have fun with you, to enjoy casual, meaningless sex –no matter how good it felt–; but now, after those lovely words and the way he is looking at you, you think that perhaps he wants something else. Something more.

"Come here" he asks again, this time offering his hand to you. "I think you'll feel better skin to skin instead of standing this far away and feeling scrutinized".

You pad forward, and accept his hand with a gentle squeeze. Rex tugs you towards him; and you slowly move to sit down on his lap, his arms inmediately wrapping around your waist.

"You are so beautiful" he murmurs, looking up at you as if he's nothing but enthraced and enamoured with you. "Mesh'la".

You can't help yourself; and you dip down to catch his lips with yours in a quick, heartfelt kiss. I love you, your soul whispers.

Rex hums in delight and answers back with the same passion, deepening the kiss into something sweeter and slower. I love you, he thinks in the safe barriers of his mind.

His warm hands softly travel through your body in a gentle caress; up and down your back, playing with your sides, then slowly dipping forward to brush against a nipple.

You moan quietly in response, growing restless, unconciously starting to move on top of him. Your hands are clasped behind his neck, lips parted in a pleased expresion. You feel sort of powerful, with this strong man patiently sitting under you.

"That's right, beautiful" he hums as he watches you, cheeks starting to flush naturally. "Just enjoy yourself, have your fun on top of me".

His hands tighten on either side of your hips; encouraging you to find more desperate friction against him.

You whimper, feeling his hard cock twitch underneath you; growing more wet as seconds tics by. When you're almost shaking with need and look up at Rex with a clear request on your eyes, he nuzzles his nose against the side of your cheek and asks "Put me inside of you, baby".

You are quick to comply; holding his throbbing cock with one hand while taking a firm hold on his shoulder with the other. Rex stabilises you while you sit down on him; sinking down on his thick, hard cock with a long drawled moan. You close your eyes and concentrate on the feeling; on how good he stretches you and how wonderfull it feels to being filled by him. Full. Your alpha, deep inside of you.

You hum in pleasure,resting your forehead against him; and Rex caresses the sides of your hips tenderly.

"You feel so fucking good, mesh'la" he mumbles, voice hoarse, memorising this moment to come back to it whenever he wants. "So warm and tight".

You kiss him, unable to word your feelings out loud –all coherent thoughts have seemed to dissapeared from your mind, too struck at how good he feels– and slowly start to move your hips in little circles and forward and back on top of him.

Rex groans and holds you tigther against him; half-hugging you to his chest while you take your time riding him. It's... So much. The way his thick cock slides in and out of you is delicious; how you fit around him like a glove. His warm body pressed to yours, the way his hands cling to you, his breath stuttering against your skin... It's what you had wanted and more.

Rex progressively losses himself in you. You look gorgeous on top of him, moaning and whimpering softly and sinking your nails on his shoulders; divided by wanting to hug him closer or fuck yourself faster on his cock. He watches how your face shifts with pleasure and concentration, how your lips part open in a silent gasp. Your scent is floating around him –hot, satiesfied, needy, happy omega–; and he moans, breathing it all in.

The alpha in him growls, pleased with your beautiful compliance but aching to have you underneath him, to being able to properly give you his cock –pump you full, breed you, mark...–; and Rex pants and quickly moves the two of you around. You end up laying on the bed with a quiet gasp; the man inmediately adjusting on top of you and pushing his cock inside of you again.

Your face shifts from surprise to pleasure once more; and you accept him, spreading your legs wider, with a broken moan. Rex answers with a low rumble that pleases your omega in all the right ways and holds the back of your lower thighs with his hands, pushing up under your knees. It folds you further into yourself; allowing him to fuck you deeper, and you can't help but whimper at how good he's doing you. His thrusts are rough and deep, almost punishing you with his strength; but also slow and passionate, personal.

Your gazes lock and you feel so many different things you don't even have the time to sort it through right now. You clench on him, and Rex groans, eyes fluttering shut, fingers digging into your thighs.

He feels his mind growing dizzy; every rational thought blurring together and mixing with his deepest desires. He speeds up, sinking his cock in your wetness and panting from the pleasure and effort; proud at the little gasps, moans and whimpers you answer him with.

Omega. Happy. Omega. Safe. Omega. Needy. Omega. Hot. Omega. Breed. Omega. Love. Omega. Mine. Omega. Mine. Mine. Mine.

The words resonate in his head; and Rex is not completely aware of him echoing them out loud.

"Mine. Mine. Forever. Breed you with my pups. Ours" he's mumbling in a trance. "Omega. Sweet, fierce Omega. Mine, mine, mine".

You feel more wetness gathering inside of you for Rex to coat his cock in; impossibly turned on by the words escaping from his lips. You can tell his alpha's side is getting the best of him; and fuck, aren't you karking glad. You've dreamt about this. About him fucking you, breeding you, claiming you.

Your omega side cries in need and happiness. You're drunk in his pleased, proud, possesive masculine scent.

"Please, please, please..."

You push your head back, arching in the bed and offering him your neck; and Rex moans loudly and dips down to take a long lick on your offered scent glands, swollen and tingly.

You whine, clenching on him; and he mumbles more of his dirty thoughts, mind floating in your sweet scent. In the way you had offered it to him.

"Bite you... Wanna' bite you..." he whispers hoarsely, face hiding in your neck while he continues moving. "Sink my teeth in here and hold you in place while I push my warm cum inside of you..."

"Please, alpha" you finally resort to beg. "Mark me, bite me. Please, Rex".

The clones' hips stutter; the words coming from your lips surely nothing but a fantasy, a spur on the moment thing. But he searches for the truth in your eyes; and in those wide, loving, hopeful eyes, he understands it's nothing but your true wish. Your true desire.

"You want us to bond?" He still manages to ask, nuzzling his nose under your chin affectionately.

"Yes, Rex, please" you caress his sweaty cheek with one hand, eyes blurring with happy tears. "I want you to be my alpha. Just you. Please, Rex, please..."

Rex shuts his eyes, his thrusts growing uncoordinated as his end gets closer.

"My fucking little omega, all mine, mine, mine..." he chants, his hips snapping against yours, the beginning of a knot tugging at your hole. "Gonna' mark you, breed you, knot you..."

You moan and offer your neck to him again, clenching impossibly tighter around him. He whines, and you know he's just as close to cumming as you are.

You cup his face between your hands, and beg him once more, conffident and sure.

"Please, Rex".

And Rex moans, tugs your hair back with one hand and sinks his teeth into your neck, bitting deeply right on your scent glands.

A rush of warmth and pure electrical pleasure zaps through your veins; the bond taking place and tying your hearts together, a mated alpha/omega pair.

Your walls squeeze Rex's cock; and you cum with a cry, the feeling multiplied by his knot growing inside of you. He whines and releases your neck, panting harshly. His hips stutter, and after a few more unstable thrusts he's cuming deep inside of you, filling you with a big load of warm cum. You enjoy every single drop of it; sighing in happiness and relief and swimming in ecstasy at the fresh bite mark on your neck. You can't even focus on the blood or the pain; it's nothing compared to do knowledge of finally being his.

Rex drops his body weight on top of you; a happy, exhausted sigh escaping his lips while he rests his head on your chest. His scent is excited and cheerfull, pleased and overwhelmed; tender and relieved. A hint of guiltiness.

Ignoring how exhausted you are –you're going to need a pair of hours to recover from this–, you move your arms and hug him to your body; legs wrapping around his hips as well so it's easier to not hurt any of you with his knot is still inside of you. You caress his back affectionately, letting him know you're still sure of yourself know that the sex is over and that there's nothing to regret.

Rex pulls his head back slowly and carefully and nuzzles his nose against yours.

"I love you. You were perfect, thank you, I love you".

It's clear his head is still a little fuzzy –as is yours–; and you shoot him a pleased, tired smile, drawing little caresses on his naked back.

"Love you too" you mumble, pecking him softly. "Strong, perfect alpha".

Rex rumbles low in his throat, pleased; and he pushes your chin up with a hand, making space so that he can tend to your wound. He licks slowly and carefully. It sends after-sparks to your toes, and you squirm unconsciously.

Rex grins.

"Perfect little omega. Mine, mine, mine. Finally mine".

THE END.

This is not checked for errors –i'm posting this at 2am as soon as I've finished it– so forgive my mistakes!

On another note, I just wanted to let you readers know about my closest future proyects:

– I'm currently working in a Tech!mer request (the second part to the 100celeb oneshot I already wrote and published for him), and it will be posted next.

– After that, I'll continue writing the Demon!echo fanfic, which I'm very excited for.

– And after THAT, I'll be finally reopening any free ideas requests. Remember you can always check if I'm requesting or not in the announcement in my main masterlist.

happy new year and take care! Xx, Blue.

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