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moonstrider9904 · 1 month

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Don't Blame Me

This one shot is for the Bad Batch Prompt event using the prompt:

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”

Pairing: Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Tags: 18+ strictly. Minors should not interact with this or any of my writing pieces as they are content for adults only. Smut, sexual tension, foul language and swearing, oral (female receiving) sex, unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, flirting.

Playlist: Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

@arctrooper69 Tagging you right here :D

A night like that one was much too rare. The sun had just finished going down beneath the horizon, and the faintest hue of blue still lit the sky while the stars had already begun their nightly dance. The breeze was warm on your skin, even with the drops of water that lingered on you as you sat at the edge of the pool with your feet and calves still in the water, your hands running down your wet hair as you sighed and took in the life of the moment. The speakers played chill tunes, easy to listen to, perfect to vibe with the summery air and the laughs coming from all around the pool.

You looked around and smiled at the fact that all of your favorite troopers were there, and even some you hadn’t seen before—probably shinies who had just joined their platoons. Boys from the 501st, 212th, hell, even the 99s had bothered to come to a summer pool night on Naboo for their shore leave.

You couldn't help but laugh and think you’d seen it all when, across the pool, you saw that silver-haired sniper taking a sip from a bright cocktail. And his eyes were on you too, glaring, but you were used to that. You shot a cheeky grin at Crosshair only for him to roll his eyes and look away.

Your gaze remained on him for a little longer until you heard somebody diving into the pool, and when you looked at the crystalline water lit by the warm bulbs submerged in it, you quickly realized it was Fives as he emerged from under the water running his hands up his face and towards the back of his head, brushing the hair away. In that pose, Fives opened his arms and flexed, showing off his biceps as he shot you his signature charming grin, winking at you.

“These babies have gotten bigger since the last time I saw you, sweetheart,” Fives beamed.

Laughter escaped you—as much as you adored Fives, his attempts at flirting were always a sight to behold. Something about young, handsome soldiers tripping over their feet for your attention made you wish all summer nights were like that one, and to follow along with Fives’ game, you crossed one leg over the other, planted your hands firmly on the ground at your sides and shrugged, pursing your lips together.

“I don’t know, they kinda look the same to me,” you teased him.

“Don’t listen to him,” you heard the voice next to you as Jesse took a seat beside you only to fully get into the pool and swim over next to Fives, adopting his same pose. “I actually think I pull it off better, and I only lift half as often as he does. It’s like I don’t even have to try.”

“Oh, shut up!” Fives yelled, grinning mischievously as he brushed his hand and forearm over the water’s surface in Jesse’s direction, splashing him.

“That’s how you wanna do it, you runt?” Jesse played along and began splashing back.

As if that gesture were a galactic beckoning for the clones, the pool almost instantly became filled with troopers wanting to partake in the splash battle. You giggled as you watched them splash and wrestle playfully—the scene in front of you was probably the best definition of “boys being boys.” You loved it, and laughter wouldn’t stop leaving you. For the duration of that night, you hadn’t enjoyed anything more than what was currently playing out in front of you.

However, across the pool, the same pair of piercing amber eyes glared past the scene and into you, but you weren’t taking notice of that anymore.

It only took a few seconds for the clones’ splash war to no longer be about you, and the water flying in from multiple directions was beginning to get out of hand. Wiping a couple of drops that had fallen near your eyes, you got up and made your way towards the chair where you’d left your things. You slipped your feet into your sandals, smiling at the sound of the racket behind you blending with the music, and then you took the cream-colored shawl you’d taken to the party and wrapped it around your hips in a makeshift skirt. You were in the mood for a drink now, but while the water wars ended, you figured you’d hit the powder room to adjust your suit.

Crosshair watched you from where he stood, his eyes following your silhouette as you walked from the pool to the lounge. Every time your right leg came forward, your skin was exposed by the edges of the fabric wrapped around your hips, offering him a teasing glimpse of your thigh. He picked up on the sway of your hips, the delicate left and right of every step that you took, partnered perfectly with your hands coming back and forth in tandem with your stride. As you walked past the chairs and the tables, Crosshair took in how gracefully your hair framed your face, as well as how perfectly the top of your bathing suit framed your breasts and the top half of your belly, letting him see the skin just above your belly button only for the smoothness to stop just above your womb, where the shawl began.

Fuck. He suppressed a groan. Did you even have any idea how sensual you looked? Clearly you didn’t, why else would you waste yourself on all those amateurs trying to impress you with a basic flex and a splish-splash of water?

You’d made it to the common mirror just outside the restrooms and looked at your reflection in the flattering warm lighting. You combed through your hair using your fingers, trying to achieve a carefree look, a blend between messy and done that seemed right for the night. When you were done with that, you eased a few creases on the fabric of your shawl and tightened the knot—you didn’t want that getting loose on accident—and you smoothed out the top of your bathing suit as well. Once you were ready to head back out into the party, you turned around and began making your way where you came from. Your thoughts on what cocktail you were gonna get were interrupted by a tall, lean silhouette dressed in black coming into view. The sight of those amber eyes made you stop in your tracks, and you couldn’t help the little grin that appeared on your lips.

“Look who finally decided to socialize,” you teased him.

Crosshair scoffed, his eyes looking aside as he did. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wouldn’t waste my time or energy with you.”

You placed your hands over your heart, faking a heartache. “Must you hurt me so?”

“I’m not particularly happy with you,” Crosshair crooned.

You giggled. “You’re never happy with anyone. And you of all people have no reason to hold anything against me, you never even let yourself open up to me.” Your gaze softened and you took a step towards him, holding your fists behind your back and pouting up at him. “Why won’t you let me in, Crosshair?”

Again, he rolled his eyes. “I didn’t come here for this.”

“Something tells me you did,” you answered. “Here I am, what do you want with me?”

“Nothing,” Crosshair nearly spat the word out.

You raised a brow. No one in that party could deny how insightful you were, not even him.

Crosshair scoffed again. “Fine, I’ll bite.”

“Please do,” you couldn’t resist the urge to say.

“Maybe I didn’t like the way the others were making fools out of themselves for your attention,” Crosshair glared. “It was pathetic to watch.”

“Ah,” you crossed your arms, nodding slowly. “So you’re jealous.”

“Fuck, no,” Crosshair smirked. “I just wouldn’t be caught dead being a complete idiot like that.”

“So you aren’t jealous?” You smirked back.

“No.”

“Then why do you look like you’re about to stab someone?” Your smirk widened.

You’d cornered him, and Crosshair hated that. He was used to always having the upper hand, the higher ground, to being on top of everything. Nothing could ever surprise him, and when it did, it only meant he’d screwed up. The fact that you had just done that in the most leisurely of settings made him want to puke.

“Forget this,” he said, his silhouette beginning to turn around.

“I didn’t take you for the type to run away, Crosshair,” you said as your hands went over to your hips and you shifted your weight onto your left side, emphasizing the curves of your silhouette.

Crosshair faced you again, his gaze darkening at the little pose you’d adopted. You noticed his eyes running down your body, but when they met yours again, his gaze hardened.

“Fuck you,” he said, without hesitating.

You scoffed, looking at him from head to toe as well. “Fuck me yourself, you coward. I’d like to see if you can.”

He scoffed, his thin lips curving into a smile as he made his way towards you painfully slowly. Hovering in front of you, he took his fingers up to your chin, tilting your face up, making your breath hitch despite your witty exterior.

“You better be damn serious about that, doll,” Crosshair purred with hungry eyes.

“What, did I stutter?” Your breath shook as you whispered, and your hand snaked up his abdomen and felt his chest over the black shirt he wore. “What other way do I have to tell you I want this?”

The hand that was on your chin traveled back and down to cup the side of your neck, firm, but never hard enough to hurt you. Crosshair’s fingertips rested gently on your nape, and his other hand went up and joined the first in perfect symmetry. He pressed his body closer to yours, never breaking eye contact with you, and your heart beat so fast you were afraid he’d be able to hear it through your chest. He was devastatingly handsome, looming over you, watching you with lustful eyes foreboding passion. It didn’t matter where you were. It didn’t matter if there were people outside—they were enjoying their own night, they didn’t have to be involved in what only concerned you and Crosshair. All that mattered was the sensation of his hands on your skin, your hands over his chest, and the heat beginning to boil low in your stomach.

You half-expected another snarky remark, another sneer coming from Crosshair just to test the waters, but you basked in the mercy of the satisfaction that came when Crosshair finally crashed his lips down on yours. He stepped towards you and you stepped backwards, stumbling into the bathroom for him to lock the door behind him when you were both already inside. The music continued to boom from the party outside, as did the cheers and the laughter from everyone blissfully ignorant of the fire catching between you and the marksman. You didn’t have to worry about being heard.

You blindly walked backwards with your fists tugging at Crosshair’s shirt, your mind swarming with the concept of him as he devoured your lips with luscious kisses and mischievous nibbles. You felt your back bump into the wall next to the sink, and he pressed you onto it, letting you feel the erection growing under his pitch-black boxer bathing suit. You whimpered at the hardness and let your hands travel up his chest and around his shoulders until the tips of your fingers found his silver hair, which you twirled and tugged hoping to get a sound from him. Crosshair pleased you by letting out a low grunt and grew more passionate with every tug you gave to his hair.

One of the hands that was on your neck traveled down to your waist and kneaded your flesh with his fingertips, freeing your neck for him to take his kisses down to that sensitive skin he so badly wanted to mark. You shuddered when you first felt Crosshair suck on your neck, and you were astounded at his ease to find your sweetest spot. He nibbled and sucked such that you were certain there would be a maroon mark on your skin, and you enjoyed every second of it. You were enjoying the idea of coming out of that bathroom with that mark on your neck for everyone to see, and something told you Crosshair would get a kick of it as well, parading you in front of everyone else to show them how it’s really done.

When he was finished with your neck, Crosshair moved down your body leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles whilst feeling every inch of your body he could, including your hardened nipples over the fabric of your swimsuit, until he was on his knees in front of you. His hands greedily squeezed the flesh of your buttcheeks as he focused his kisses on your lower abdomen, just above the line where your shawl and the bottom of your bathing suit began. Unwilling to wait much longer to finally taste you, Crosshair curled his fingers around your bathing panties and pulled them down your legs with ease. You stepped out of them for him to hand them to you for you to hold in one hand, and when your other hand went to undo your top, he was quick to stop you.

“No, doll,” Crosshair purred. “You’re keepin’ that on.”

You giggled at him in response, and by his actions, he didn’t intend for you to remove that shawl either. Part of you would have preferred for Crosshair to have already been shirtless at this point, but any sort of thought faded when Crosshair took one of your legs and wrapped it around his back—it was only until then you became aware that your aching cunt was finally exposed to him.

Crosshair split the fabric of your shawl and placed it over your hips to keep it out of the way; he held your butt with one hand to keep you steady while he used his index and thumb fingers on his other hand to lift the hood of your clit. Your mind barely had a second to ponder on the fact that he knew what he was doing, and when you felt his tongue begin to brush over the pearl of your clit, your whole world faded. A deep moan escaped you, and your head fell back to the wall as your chest heaved at every sensation Crosshair gifted you with. You slipped farther from sanity and nearer into bliss, feeling he’d tip you over the edge in an obscenely small amount of time.

Switching between luscious kissing and precise sucking, Crosshair turned you from confident temptress to whimpering mess, pleased at the idea of having you at his mercy. Your moans grew louder and more desperate, and your hand reached down to find his hair again, twirling and tugging at his beautiful silver locks. You drew a moan from Crosshair, and its vibrations resonated deep within your flesh, finally finishing you off. Your already helpless moaning turned into pleading mewls as the pleasure that focused on your clit exploded into beautiful flames invading every corner of your body. Your muscles tensed as you squirmed, knowing it was only Crosshair’s grip keeping you upright. You were oblivious to the amount of times you whimpered his name, you only had the headspace to rut your hips against him, as if you weren’t feeling enough mind-erasing pleasure already.

You wanted more. You wanted his fullness, his touch. You wanted him.

Crosshair emerged from between your legs as if he were coming up for air after a long swim. You were dazzled, panting in the aftermath of every wave of pleasure you’d just felt, but you managed to look down and see him smirking proudly. Crosshair grunted as he stood up, towering over you again, and just when you were beginning to make sense of the world around you again, you saw him pulling down his bathing shorts to reveal a long, hard erection waiting just for you.

You couldn’t help but moan at the sight, making him chuckle with pride.

“Got room for some more?” Crosshair asked.

You nodded frantically, and without hesitation, Crosshair firmly grasped your ass and lifted you, resting part of your weight on the sink beside you. You clung to him, needily wrapping your legs around his waist, and he could only hum at the sight, pleased. After the painful wait, you finally felt Crosshair sliding himself into you, hissing at the initial stretch of your flesh only for you to moan when it became the most incredible sensation you’d ever experienced.

And Crosshair took it from there. Holding you firmly, he took care of every movement. Your arousal made it easier for him to slip in and out of you at whatever speed he desired, and you could tell he wasn’t planning on putting anything off. He was quick, accurate, decisive, grunting low and seductive into your ear with every few thrusts into your hips. Your nails clawed into his upper back, moaning deeply as you tightened your legs around him as much as you could, and it heightened the sensations you felt.

As he continued to fuck deep into you, Crosshair made eye contact with you for a moment, his cocky exterior suddenly becoming caring, even soft. The thought of your prior conversation entered your mind—how long had he felt that way for you? How long had you been suppressing your own desires for him?

Now that you were in his arms, feeling all the pleasure he could give you, you were certain you were where you needed to be.

A tender moan of his name escaped you just before you felt the pleasure expand through your body again. The moans induced by this second orgasm were far louder and embarrassingly more lustful than those of the first, and Crosshair thrust his hips faster into you as he fisted your hair and gave it a light tug. Your vision went white as you succumbed to the pleasure, to him, until you felt the heat of his release inside you followed by soft, low-pitched moans that sealed every one of your feelings for him.

Carefully, he set you down, and once he was sure that your feet were firm on the ground, Crosshair went limp in front of you. His arms were the only thing that remained strong as he caged you to the wall, panting to recover his breath in tandem with you. His lips were close to yours, and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to cup his face and kiss him gently. Crosshair kissed you back without a hesitation, retrieving his hands from the wall to place them over your wrists, pressing you deeper to him.

“You never had to be jealous, Crosshair,” you whispered.

“Don’t blame me,” he panted, “for getting a little unhinged at the thought of someone else trying to satisfy you.”

“Hey, if this is the result, I’ll take it any day,” you winked. “I should have known a tease and a challenge was all it took.”

Crosshair smirked at you and let his hands travel down to your waist, straightening his back and lifting your feet up with him. “Wanna show off your hickey?”

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

Crosshair chuckled and pecked your lips, setting you down on the floor again and pulling up his bathing suit again. “Come.”

You put the bottom of your bathing suit on and followed him out of the refresher with your arm linked in his, ready for all the stares you were about to receive. Crosshair would definitely show them all, and you never would have fathomed the idea of parading a fresh hickey in front of a group of men who were flirting with you minutes earlier, but if that love hadn’t made you a bit crazy, you wouldn’t have been doing it right.

#tbbpromptevent #moonstrider writes #tbb x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair smut #tbb smut #tbb fanfic #the bad batch fanfic

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tesalicious2 · 2 months

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Coruscant Guard headcanons-ish (mostly focusing on Hound):

There aren’t just massiffs

Coruscant has a lot of smuggling, including animals. Not only that but the Senators give them their pets to take care of (that is not a pet but a wild animal wtf)

But they end up with an assortment of baby animals that CAN be domesticated and do something with them

Quinlan started it when he handed a baby Nexu to Fox and said they were trainable and loyal. Fox passed this on to Hohnd and nugget was a part of the family since

Ever since then they got two more Nexu, both sticking with new shinies under Hounds command

Surprisingly they have one Narglatch, though Blizzard (dubbed by Stone) is rarely used. Often used for chases in the lower levels, able to chase and weave easier through crowds than a speeder (think Horses in police forces)

At one point, some 501st and 212th troopers found what they thought to be a massiff and happily dropped it with the Guard,

It was not a massiff and Hound broke many laws to get it to the Jedi temple and out of his hands fast

See they had found an Albek, a force sensitive creature that looks like a massif but is VERY aggressive and BERY untrainable, last Hound heard was that it was set free and is very happy

Another of the larger creatures that is used far more often than the narglatch is the Varactyl

Somehow a shipment of young had been smuggled onto Coruscant and were taken in by the Guard

Their ability to climb vertical surfaces and calm nature and silliness to listen to their rider made them perfect in the club districts; the tall buildings were close enough to jump between and had many platforms for people to walk and dance

They could weave above crowds and act almost like helicopters when chasing criminals, but we’re able to go into the crowds; only problem is that people had to get out of the way or be trampled

Hound and his infinite luck ran across a hurt Rancor with a shiny one night. Though they could not take the Rancor in, they sent it to the Jedi temple where it receives lots of love and treats from the younglings and troopers who visit

The Rancor serves as a guardian of the wing dedicated to dangerous artifacts and texts, and is watched over by the Temple Guard

AND AND AND

Spark dragons

ARF troopers ride them but due to fear, they are used to guard the prisons. Occasionally, they are lent out to other battalions with their riders

They are dragons native to Kiffu and can easily get their charge from the static electricity created by genorators

They were found as young babies and trained by the ARF

Quinlan was absolutely ecstatic and adores them, they’ve made a special attachment with him but prefer their troopers

On one occasion two were sent out with the Marine Corps, who were afraid as hell. Those troopers had a lovely time and many stores of scaring the ‘hardcore’ troopers

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teecupangel · 5 months

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Okay, listen to me. What if, WHAT IF, in a galaxy far far away, during the Clone Wars, our boy Desmond respawns as a clone? Mmmm 212th Attack Battalion, perhaps? In the Ghost Company, more precisely, right next to Obi-Wan, who ends up loving this shinie because he's very adoptable and kind of has a strange signature in the Force? I mean, one person can't have the Force signature of three different people at the same time as their own, that's impossible.

...Isn't it?

Oh, what if Desmond was an anomaly?

Like, clones are meant to be from the same ‘stock’ and Desmond started out just as the same as all of them.

… until he became part of the war.

There was something about it…

The needless lost of lives…

The pain and suffering all around them…

The very concept ingrained into his very being to obey…

Desmond starts to crack.

And from those cracks…

They appear.

Whispers only he can hear.

Warmth he feels where there should not be any.

They comfort him.

They teach him.

They guide him.

They care for him.

And they warn him…

Of how General Kenobi shares the same skills as the ones who controlled their lives, who played god and wrote the stories of their lives.

Of how Desmond must be remain vigilant.

Less he suffered the same fate once more.

He probably won’t have Desmond as his name though. Maybe… Eagle? Is that too Earth-centric? Blade? I would have said Ghost but he’s part of Ghost Company already. XD

In a nutshell, Isus harness the Force and they come from one of the earliest races to ever do so. The Jedis learn to harness/live in harmony with the Force from a very similar principle as the Isus and that makes Desmond’s ‘ghosts’ weary of Obi-Wan and every person who can use the Force as it reminds them of the Isus.

Desmond himself is a ‘contaminated’ clone. Jango Fett is actually a ‘distant’ descendant of Desmond, born as part of an Assassin family who reached the stars and… well… things happened that led to Jango becoming a foundling. Desmond is a 1 in a hundred billion chance… or perhaps it was fate. Either way, Desmond is a product of the cloning process screwing up and making Desmond not a clone of Jango but a clone of Jango’s ancestor, Desmond Miles.

The cracks that started appearing on Desmond’s mind?

That’s not the Bleeding Effect.

That’s the cloning process’ failure. He’s starting to ‘remember’ the memories of his ancestors… including Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Ezio Auditore and Ratonhnhaké:ton.

(Would you want Desmond to remember the life of Desmond Miles up to his death which shouldn’t be possible because, according to the genetic memories rule of AC, they can only have the memories up to the conception of the next ancestor? Easy way? Use the Force as a plot device. Less easy way? Have Ghost Company find an Animus in one of their missions and Desmond touches it, starting the entire process because that Animus contained Sample 17’s data and it reacted to Desmond).

#desmond as a clone #assassin's creed #desmond miles #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #fic idea: star wars #fic idea: crossover

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bumbledees · 3 months

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YOU ARE ALWAYS WELCOME TO STEAL MY OPEN TAGS <333

hmmmm oh choices choices, but I must say the title that most grabbed my attention is "Please Hang Up! Don’t Try Your Call Again"- I'm VERY CURIOUS.

:D <333 I LOVE TO PLAY TAG GAMES. and to hear other people talk about their wips!!

I'm also SO glad that out of all the fics you picked that one. It's one of the first SW fic ideas I had before Rumor Has It jumped my brain in a dark alley, and I really want to write it eventually. It is actually codywan this time, eventually. POV Cody and occasionally Ahsoka.

In which Cody does some breaking and entering, endures a month of the galaxy's most aggravating phone calls, fistfights the dark side of the Force, and accidentally fulfills a prophecy. Or: Chancellor Palpatine: Such a shame to lose our dear Commander CC2224. Cody: Stop telling people I'm dead! Chancellor Palpatine: Sometimes I can still hear his voice.

[snippet under cut]

"My General will come," Cody says, because the idea that Obi-Wan wouldn't is the biggest insult he's heard to the man in at least a year standard.

"The Force, my dear Commander, can hide a great many things from view," the hologram snarls. "He and your men will leave you for dead, and you will starve long before you can even attempt escape." With a spasm of blue, the figure disappears.

Cody can't help a frustrated hiss through his teeth. Food is his most immediate problem, despite the ominous atmosphere of the complex and the nightmare its comm system has on speed dial. Would a dar'jetti even need to eat?

Ooh, look at me, I'm a Sith, he can almost hear Waxer saying. I'm having evil rations for my evil breakfast.

His next thought--that he might never hear Ghost Company's nonsense or watch the 212th shinies earn their paint ever again--hurts more than he expects.

The battalion will be fine; they've got the General and a fine roster of veteran troopers to guide and protect them. But he can't give them up without a fight, and right now the mystery darksider is his only source of intel on... anything about this place.

Kenobi tactics almost certainly won't work here, so it's time to go Skywalker. Cody punches the comm button again, summoning up the tiny cloaked figure. "Hey fucker, I wasn't done talking to you."

The hologram is managing to look surprised without having any visible facial features, so Cody takes that as a good sign. The creepy artifact seems like it could be good leverage for a dar'jetti; he'll go for that first. "Do you want me to break your haunted triangles? Because keeping me here is how you break your haunted triangles."

#yes it's another cody pov.... listen he's my favorite. he has so many responsibilities and siblings and he wants to do good by all of them #he also deserves to blow some things up. as a treat.#dee writes #star wars fic

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toska-writes · 1 year

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“Shiny”

Summary: After a few complains from worried troopers your master ordered armor for the 2 of you. And now some boy were excited to help you customize!

Paring: Cody+212th x Reader (guess what?!? Plaaaaaaaaatonic!!! WOO)

Warning: None! Just teeth rotting fluff!

Word Count: 1375

Read here on ao3! (✩)

You wouldn’t say your reckless on the battlefield, nor was your master Obi-Wan Kenobi. It just seemed when it came down to it all you were shot at a lot.

Like all the time.

So after a few bullets caught in the ribs or the arms here and there worried some troopers of the well being of their beloved Commander and General.

*Cough cough Cody cough*

Your comm buzzed as you made your way to the training rooms to meet your master, it was odd though because you were supposed to meet with Obi-wan later for your scheduled training.

“Hello master. Cody” You waved to them both already eyeing the boxes that layer by their feet. “What’s this? I though training wasn’t until 01600.” You stopped in front of the two.

Obi-wan let out a laugh and then explained. “We finally got our shipment in, apparently the GAR thought it be a good idea for some armor for the two of us Y/N” He with the help of Cody opened the two packages. “Even if it’s minimal it’s still better then none.”

“You can say that again.” Cody said under his breath.

“Aww Cod’ika gets nervous when we’re shot at.” You joked bumping arms with him.

Obi-wan passed you a breast plate with shoulder coverage as well, some arm and hand braces were included. He himself also had a set similar.

Your mouth hung open as you ran a hand over the white plaster. All the possibilities running through your head.

The awe clearly showed on your face and for the second time your master laughed. “Please go enjoy decorating it Y/N it’s lovely to see you this happy.” Obi-wan placed a hand on your shoulder

You bowed slightly trying not to drop everything you had in your hands and smiled at Cody hoping he would follow you.

“Everyone is quite excited to help with the painting.” Cody strolled next to you. “It’ll be good to touch up our own armor as well.”

You laughed as you started to run a little faster down the hall, making Cody try to keep up with you.

“Slow down there Shiny before you drop something.”

You turned to look at him. “Oh no don’t you start that-“

Cody’s cheerful laugh cut through your sentence. “Sorry sir buts it’s the perfect opportunity.”

You rolled your eyes as the pair of you turned down one more corridor and were finally met with the doors to the 212th barracks.

“Hey commander.” You herd Boil as he started to lay some tarps around the floor of the conman room.

You saw Trapper watching from a perch on one of the couches “We don’t want anything getting ruined now do we.”

Boil and Crys joined the commotion in the room arguing quite loudly as they fought over what seemed to be a can of paint.

“No no the shades all wrong! It’s brighter than that.”

“Are you color blind or something Vod? Maybe got hit one too many times?”

You laughed at the too rolling your eyes simultaneously with Cody.

You finally dropped all the fresh armor on the trap after Waxer finally got it nice and smooth.

Wooley, Longshot, and Gearshift all stumbled into the room, arms filled with piles of armor. Some were definitely in better shape than others.

You flashed them an excited smile with everyone joining you around the pot of orange paint that was so special to the entire battalion.

Peel finally joined the group with extra colors such as red, white, and black.

“Now let’s get started.” Cody clapped and everyone dug through the pile to find their own individual armor.

You grabbed the center piece and started at it for a moment. Carefully you reached for a paintbrush, chatter from your brothers around the room filled your ears.

“You know cyare if you wanted I could help you make your own sun design and then we could match.” Cody suggest grabbing a paint brush of his own.

“I love that idea Kotes!” You smiled back finally getting brave enough to dip your brush into the orange paint.

Waxed and Boil chimed in. “Could we do a form arm brace if the commanders getting the chest plate?”

“Of course, and if anyone else wants to do the other feel free.” You added. The brush touched down on the white, you mapped out half a circle at the cut off that would be right about your belly button.

One more stroke, then another. “Kriff.” You swore quickly, a rouge line got away from you.

“Woah there shiny need some help.” Waxer leaned over your shoulder.

“Really everyone’s doing that now?” You asked in question of the nickname.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Waxer questioned again now bending down, grabbing your paint brush to assist you.

You watched him for a moment before he went back to work on the other part of the set with Boil again.

About a quarter inch above the half circle you made another think line, making a ring.

Cody joined now in the painting of the rays that matched his own sunshine. At one point even Wooley joined trying to speed up the process.

You looked up to see that Waxer and Boil now finished their respective brace, it was in the geometric points that adorned the patterns of their own armor.

The other brace was being occupied by Gearshift who was painting a small ring of yellow that would circle the area where you could put your comm.

The armor was coming together now, every seemed to be just finished up their touch-ups when you announced ‘done’ very proudly.

“Wow it’s looking good commander.” Trapper smiled.

“Yea not bad for your first time Shiny.” Crys laughed with his brother.

“Now how longs that gonna last? Hmm?” You questioned leaning back into Cody as the armor had to dry.

“At least until the first campaign you wear it in.” Cody explain. “Until then your the teams new Shiny.”

The woosh of mechanical doors made everyone freeze. “Huh it seems the council meeting made me miss all the fun.” Obi-wan came to sit down beside you a Cody, resting a hand on the other man’s thigh.

Chatter filled the air once again as the group waited for the paint to finish drying on all of them.

After some time passed your master said. “Well now Y/N I hope you plan on trying it on for us.”

You couldn’t agree more, just up from your spot of the floor you rushed to the newly dried armor and slipped the first piece over your head. The clasp in the front was definitely easier than the ones in the back, thankfully Longshot was there to click them in for you.

The left shoulder covering was designed with the Jedi Order symbol in red matching the one your master also had. The other was the same stark white that you started with.

You slipped on the arm and fore arm piece each side coming together nicely.

Some cheers went up around the room as you spun round for them all to see.

“Now where’s the lightsaber holder on that one?” Cody quipped.

Obi-wan leaned into him to try and suppress his laughter.

The armor felt right, how you fought so many battles before without it was insane.

“Oh one more thing.” You added before you forgot, unhooking the front chest piece you laid it in the middle of the room. “Everyone needs to sign it.” You pointed to the empty backside still without marking.

Obi-wan and Cody were the first the sign. The Boil, followed by Waxer in what could be argued as an obnoxiously large font.

Soon everyone finished there signature, some neater than others but it was the different personality’s they all had that really blew you away. No it was just to get the other troopers that weren’t here to sign it as well.

“It looks pretty good for a shiny.” Cody came up to you as you clicked the armor back into place, he did the same with his own.

The two of you stood side by side, the painted suns never seemed brighter

#star wars clone wars #clone wars #the clone boys #my writing #star wars #the clone wars #codywan #commander cody #cody x reader #212th legion #212th battalion #toska-writes #reader insert

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mwolf0epsilon · 9 months

Text

Talking with @milfcutlawquane and @lost-on-kamino about AU stuff always yields amazing results. I love you guys <3

Previous Posts: [X] [X] [X] 501st Species Swap Examples: [X]

There are clones that take longer to change species. This is either due not having any impactful experience with another species of sentient and thus the infection process stalling, or due to not being in contact with other clones for very long periods of time.

Examples of clones who take a while to change are:

Ponds, who worked primarily with humans so it took a while for a species to actually stand out and stick with him (getting abducted by bounty hunters sure leaves an impact on a person).

Boba, who was majorly isolated from other clones so he became infected when he came into contact with Ponds and the clone officer (even so his changes only began when he entered puberty, so for a while he thought he was immune).

Gregor, who was MIA for a very long while so he wasn't exposed until he regained his memories and managed to get back to the GAR all on his own (some people started making bets on what he'd become due to him being virtually the last fully grown clone to be affected).

Another set of fun developments from my conversations with Rey and Rogue are:

Ponds gets to survive in this AU and he decides to take in Boba rather than just let the kid get tossed into prison. It takes some convincing (not because Mace doesn't think Boba learning from the clones wouldn't be good, but because he's concerned the war will not give anyone the time necessary to actually get the kid on the right track), but Ponds gets his way and he's officially named Boba's custodian. The kid also has mandatory supervised community service and classes he has to take, but honestly he's got it good compared to the alternative.

Ponds becomes a Palliduvan due to his encounter with Aurra Sing, and Boba becomes a Trandoshan a year after he's taken in by Ponds.

Cody becomes a Kaleesh, which honestly surprises no one considering the 212th's close shaves with General Grievous. He has joked about potentially altering his bucket to resemble a mixture of clone helmet and Kaleesh mask, since people keep remarking his face looks a little naked when bare.

Gree becomes a Mirialan, which he uses as an opportunity to learn more about their culture and customs. By showing a newfound eagerness to learn from them, Gree and the rest of his battalion become much closer to Luminara and Barriss. This has a majorly positive impact on Barriss especially.

Wolffe has to learn to come to terms with the trauma Ventress caused him since he's become a Dathomirian. He feels isolated from the rest of the 104th who've become Kel Dor, and it doesn't feel fair to him that she stole more than his eye from him, and that she had more of an effect on him than he's comfortable admitting to.

Bly finds that thanks to him and the majority of his men now sharing a species with their general, Aayla is no longer the center of unwanted attentions. He knows his general can handle herself (and would have no qualms beating up anyone who tried anything funny), but it always bothered him that some people had a tendency to openly drool while watching her. As it stands now, it's hard to find one attractive Twi'lek lady among many attractive Twi'lek men, although come to think of it, now they're all being gawked at which is not ideal either. That's the only aspect of being a Twi'lek he's not overly fond of. The blatant fetishization.

Fox has no option but to just accept he's an Amaran for reasons unknown to him and has to learn how to keep his emotions hidden all over again. His poker face is still flawless, but now he has a tail that reacts to his moods and it's a bit of a nightmare learning how to control it. It doesn't help that his Commanders and Shinies all seem enthralled by the dang thing.

There's a lot of positives to the change, but they do not outweigh the one negative that sets the Coruscant Guard on edge: Why is it that now that they don't look like clones, people suddenly accept that they're not soulless meatdroids? They have ALWAYS been individuals, so why should a change of species/appearance be the thing that convinces the people that used to not trust/hate them? The Guard doesn't like how shallow a change of perspective this is, and only trust the few people who've always been kind to them.

#star wars #the clone wars #species swap #commander ponds #boba fett #commander cody #commander gree #commander wolffe #commander bly #commander fox

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jedi-hawkins · 2 months

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Bryn (Jedi OC) x Sergeant Hunter

So Bryn, my Jedi oc, is in a poly relationship with both Hunter and Obi-wan (fully consensual, and codywan is also cannon in my oc au, no clonecest). This is an amazing character workup, in combination with TBB S3 premier, it really got my writing flow going!

I originally found this character question sheet by a reblog from @anxiouspineapple99 months ago - go check out their work, it’s incredible! See the og character question post by @shiny-self-shipping here.

See the post about Bryn and Obi-wan's dynamic here.

Who makes the other blush all the time and who finds it adorable?

Bryn makes Hunter blush all the time with things as simple as a glance. He hides it in his bucket a lot.

Who sings in the shower?

Hunter will sing in the shower when he's having a good sensory day, and he has a surprisingly good singing voice.

What would their song to each other be?

From Bryn to Hunter: Have You Ever Seen the Rain by Creedence Clearwater Revival

From Hunter to Bryn: Paper Rings by Taylor Swift

Hunter is a secret Swiftie, don't tell anyone, especially Crosshair

Who embarrasses the other in public with kisses and pet names?

For obvious reasons, they can't be openly affectionate. Bryn will rile Hunter up by muttering things under her breath that only he can hear. Sometimes, it'll just be little jokes, other times it'll be obscene things that make him blush redder than their armor paint. Hunter will of course use mando pet names (cyare, me'shla), but a specific pet name he uses for Bryn is "kar'ta", meaning "heart." This is a reference to when she performed CPR and saved Hunter's life shortly after she took on the batch.

Bryn will also use mando pet names since she descends from Mando lineage and is fluent in Mando'a, but her pet name for Hunter is "ner ruus," meaning "my rock." This has a double meaning, one time, Hunter was trying to get Crosshair's attention and threw a rock at him since Cross had his helmet on. Cross just happened to bend over at the right time and the rock nailed Bryn in the head behind Crosshair. It wasn't really any bigger than a pebble and Bryn didn't have a mark on her, but Hunter felt so bad. Bryn uses the name to tease him, but also remind him that he is her rock.

Who curses, and who reprimands the other for it?

Both. They both swear and the other will gently reprimand them when they’re around others in the command and after Omega joins the squad.

What small quirks do they love about each other?

When Bryn is anxious/deep in thought, she'll pace while twirling her lightsabers (unlit). Hunter will sit and twirl his knife between his fingers when he's stressed. Bryn doesn’t like pickles, and even though Hunter isn't too hot on them, he always eats hers for her. Hunter is fairly good with folding his laundry except his socks. For some reason he just throws single, unpaired socks into his trunk ("they're all the same regulation socks, why does it matter?"). Bryn will go through his trunk and pair/roll them for him.

Who makes the other laugh more?

Hunter naturally makes Bryn laugh more. Bryn will deliberately do things to make Hunter laugh when he's getting in his own head.

Who gets jealous easier?

Same as with Bryn's relationship with Obi-wan, neither of them really get jealous as they're all secure in their relationship. Hunter perhaps gets more jealous because Bryn will often split off from Squad 99 to assist the 212th or 501st, and Hunter doesn't like when she's away from the squad/with regs.

How did they know they were right for each other?

They saw a lot of themselves in the other. Both are leaders, created and thrust into a life that wasn’t exactly their choice. They’ve both faced fear, loss, anxiety, guilt. They know what it is like to have everyone looking to you for direction when you barely know what’s happening yourself. They know what it’s like to have to be the pillar of stability for everyone else and they found a grounding force in each other.

Who brings up the subject of kids first?

The topic was mutually brought up in passing conversation since neither really had a traditional 'childhood.' Bryn was curious about the comradery among the clones as they grew from tubies to cadets to soldiers and their mentorship by mandos, clone commandos, or bounty hunters. Hunter was equally curious about the experience of a Jedi youngling in the temples and the parent/child relationship that forms between master and padawan.

They broach the topic a little more seriously when Omega joins them, especially on Pabu when a life after war seems within reach.

Who's adorable when they're sleepy, and who gets grumpy and irritable?

Quite plainly, Hunter is the tooka ready to snuggle into any quiet, warm, soft spot he can find. Hunter will get grumpy when he gets overstimulated/can't get to or stay asleep. Bryn is the tooka that will take your skin if you try to wake her up. She used to be an easy sleeper and early riser but as the war progressed, her relationship with sleep got a little more complicated.

Though they can do either, by choice Hunter is the early bird, Bryn is the night owl.

Who's more protective?

Hunter is more protective, especially after Order 66 and they know Jedi are being hunted. Bryn tries to keep her mando helmet on in public after Order 66 to hide in plain sight with the squad and Hunter is hyper aware/cautious when she takes it off or they're in situations where it might get knocked off.

How do they express their feelings (Words, visual art, a song, etc.)?

When Hunter gets overstimulated, Bryn will immediately comfort him physically with soothing, grounding strokes on his back and press his ear to her chest so he can hear her heartbeat and breathing. When they're out and about, Bryn will whistle so softly only Hunter can hear, even if they're right next to each other. It's a symbol of "I'm here."

Hunter likes to sketch the world around him on scraps of flimsi in his off time. Usually he throws his drawings away, but he’ll save a select few and hide them for Bryn to find. He’ll do the same with flowers since he knows botany is Bryn’s secret ‘nerd’ obsession.

Where would they go on a 3am adventure?

A rooftop, a high cliff, the canopy of a tall tree - anywhere they can get above and away from the noise/chaos below.

Who has a hobby only the other knows about?

Hunter is an artist, in his down time he’ll sketch the world around him on pieces of flimsi. These drawings usually get burned in a campfire or tossed in the mess compactor, but a few are squirreled away by Bryn, and a few were gifted to her by Hunter.

Bryn has a gorgeous singing voice (and would even be brave enough to step up to open mic night at 79’s) but since the start of the war, her singing became much more private. Hunter would often catch her singing quietly on her own or under her breath as she completes chores around the ship/base, or while completing flimsi-work. Throughout the war, Hunter could always tell when she was mentally/emotionally struggling because she'd stop singing.

How do they hype each other up?

They'll bang their forearm bracers against each other in a sort of handshake/huddle-break style symbol that they're energized and ready for a mission.

Who picks flowers for the other?

Bryn will pick flowers and put them in Hunter’s hair. Hunter will pick flowers and leave them in places like the med bay or the cockpit for Bryn to find.

Which one wears the "I'm with stupid" t-shirt?

Bryn. Crosshair gave it to her; she thinks it's hilarious. Then, when Omega joins the batch, Bryn gives it to her for a sleep shirt. Omega was really fascinated by how soft the fabric was in comparison to Kamino fatigues and she was so excited to have her own piece of clothing.

Who's the better dancer?

Bryn is the better dancer, but Hunter is a quick learner and has never stepped on her toes. He is getting to be a surprisingly confident and graceful leader when dancing. Though he still has to get the hang of club-style dancing for 79's. He'll usually just sit and watch his squad/Bryn have fun from a booth or the bar.

Who infodumps and who listens with heart eyes?

Bryn infodumps, especially when she is preparing for mission briefs/debriefing reports. Hunter listens. Sometimes he'll gently grasp her wrist and get her to sit down from pacing or move to sit beside her and start giving her a massage as she goes over her notes.

#star wars #the bad batch #the clone wars #tbb #tbb hunter #bad batch #sergeant hunter #jedi oc #star wars oc #jedi oc x hunter #oc x hunter #tbb sergeant hunter #the bad batch hunter #sw oc #clone wars #sw clone wars #swtcw #swtcw oc

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rexxdjarin · 2 years

Note

This can be for any clone because most are like this: boobs turn their brain off. Just flash your man and whatever he was saying is completely lost.

Oh absolutely YES. you figure the clones were surrounded by their almost exclusively male identifying brothers on Kamino for their entire upbringing. Sure they learn about women. But they have never seen or met any until they move to wherever their unit is stationed.

SO when they actually see women, especially ones they’re attracted to, for the first time out and about they’re probably so fucking star struck. And that never gets tiring to them. Ever. The female form is a dream to them.

Personally I like the idea of Gregor, who has a reputation of being so goddamn smooth and suave and funny, being absolutely stopped dead in his tracks by you….

Gregor and a few of his men are hanging out at their usual table at 79s. You’ve been seeing each other for months now. There’s no part of you he hasn’t seen by now. But you still love surprising him and getting the one up on your self-proclaimed suavest clone in the GAR boyfriend.

You had a bet going to see how long you could go without sex before one of you breaks. Whoever breaks the other first has to buy the whole squad drinks for a night. Gregor was insistent that he could easily joke his way into your pants in a single night.

But you? Oh there was no way in hell you were going to lose. And you knew exactly how you were going to do it. Gregor couldn’t resist any part of you physically. He just couldn’t. It’s like your body could stun him worse than any blaster could. So you made your plan and waited for just the right moment to strike.

He was joking and laughing at the table, telling a long story and entertaining a batch of shiny’s. You exchanged glances at each other every so often; you unbuttoning your shirt a little more every time he looked over and him flexing his biceps unnecessarily or running his hand through his slicked back dark hair. Which you did love.

But finally he’d been getting to the height of the story, knocking back a fresh bottle of Kork and really riling up all the boys around him. From your place behind the bar you saw your opportunity. Most of the other tables had gotten up to rush to talk to the newly arriving 212th.

You scanned around you, ensuring that no one was looking and waited for Gregor’s eyes to flick back toward you. You ran your fingers up underneath the hem of your shirt and smirked as you thought about how much he’s going to choke up when he realizes you don’t even have a bra on under here. Finally, his eyes pan over to you and you react.

You lift your shirt up over your bare chest and flash him with the set of breasts you were truly blessed with. He freezes in the middle of the punchline, eyes widened enough to allow you to see his pupils darkening from here. The beer he was about to take a sip of spills onto the booth table below him and the boys shout their annoyance at him. He grins sheepishly and his tongue practically lolls out of his mouth at the sight of you.

You smile and cover yourself as quick as you’d flashed him, turning your back to his table and fixing the rest of the drinks he was definitely going to be the one paying for.

Suddenly, an arm is snaking around your waist and your spun around to stare directly at a mischievous and hungry looking Gregor. He pulls your body into his and his eyes do a once over of the shirt you were wearing. His hands run along the hem just as yours did and he chuckles darkly.

“You win.” He mutters, fingertips slowly walking up your torso underneath your top.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.” You tease, running your hand over his uncovered bicep. He shook his head, turning on his heels and pulling you forward to follow him. “Where we going baby?”

“I said you win. Now let’s go somewhere more private. You’re gonna have to give me a better view of those two in that little show you put on earlier.” He laughed at his own innuendo and waited for you to curl your arms around his side like usual. “I’ve been told I’m good at uhhh appreciating art like that…”

You roll your eyes and follow after him. You love this absolute clown. Might as well give him what you both want anyways. Screw the bet.

#captain gregor #clone commando gregor #gregor x you #gregor x reader #gregor thots #asks and thots

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arctrooper69 · 2 years

Text

Stayin' Alive

You may be tough, but sometimes you still need someone to save you.

A/N: I think I may have given up on the whole Whumptober thing. I'm still gonna use some of the prompts but yeah, there's no way I can catch up and do all of them when they're supposed to be done. This was prompt #6: "I've got a pulse!"

Warnings: Heavy mentions of death and blood. Medical talk.

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"I'm glad you're doing okay over there." Kix said softly. You smiled and even in the blue glow of the hologram, Kix could tell you were blushing. He loved that he could always make you blush with even the smallest sentiment. It was endearing.

"I miss you too."

"Any word on when you're coming back?" He asked, knowing that technically he wasn't supposed to know exactly where you were.

"I think we're about finished here," you replied quietly and glanced over your shoulder. "Someone's coming so I gotta go, but I think we should be back pretty soon - in the next couple of days I'd imagine."

Kix nodded, "Good. I can't wait to see you. I love you. Be safe!"

You chuckled, "I always am. Love you too."

The holocall cut off and Kix was left in the dimly lit medbay supply room. It wasn't actually a room - more like a small closet that was closed off by a curtain. As Chief Medical Officer of the 501st, he had to make due with whatever he could find and fashion into some semblance of a medbay. They'd already been on this force-forsaken planet for a month longer than anticipated and supplies were running low. The 501st and 212th battalions would need some kind of relief soon if this campaign went on any longer. Kix stepped outside to get some air before he began his shift. The grey, cloudy skies had given in to a night sky that was starless and dark. It was raining - as usual - turning the already muddy ground into a thick soupy sludge. Even when it wasn't raining, the air was hot and damp. No matter how many times he tried to air himself out, Kix felt like he'd never be fully dry again.

He walked into the medbay and grabbed a cup of caf.

"Sir!" He was greeted by one of his medics with a salute. The trooper's shiny white plastoid was already streaked and spotted with mud.

"At ease soldier, what's the situation here?"

"Not much going on right now, sir. It's pretty quiet."

Kix winced at that word.

"Well now you've done it." Jax, one of his more senior medics retorted with a roll of his eyes. "You've doomed us all."

Kix chuckled at their banter, but silently hoped to all hells that tonight wouldn't be too crazy. He was excited to see you and he knew that if it was too busy, he wouldn't get the chance.

As if the Force itself was mocking him, the coms suddenly blared to life.

"Rex to base we've got casualties incoming. Sending report now." The datapad chimed.

"Copy that, Captain. Report received."

Kix froze, he felt his chest tighten, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. You had been with the Captain. You had been at the center of whatever just happened.

Focus Kix. You can't afford to freeze up now - that's a shiny move.

But his hands still shook. Images flashed through his mind. You covered in blood, screaming in pain. You blown to pieces. You never coming back to him.

"Sir, I have the report, sir!" the shiny medic called out, pulling Kix out of his downward spiral.

"What do we have, trooper?"

"Mass casualty, sir. Multiple blasts from unknown ordinances. We've got multiple burn vics incoming, as well as a lot of blunt force trauma. 15 minute ETA."

Kix nodded. Osik. He swallowed, chest still feeling like he'd swallowed a rancor. Please be ok. Please be alive. Please - to whatever gods, Force, Maker, or anything...please let her be okay.

"I want cots ready, surgical droids on standby, crash cart prepped. Now! Go!"

His medical team hurried away to carry out the orders. Kix rushed to the supply room, gathering anything they'd need. He'd be prepared for anything. Another body pushed back the curtain enough to slide into the room behind him.

"You ok, vod?" Jax put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He was one of the few people who knew about your secret relationship with his CMO. "Hey, I'm sure she'll be ok. She's smart. One of our best."

Kix nodded but didn't say anything. They both knew that didn't mean anything. War could claim even the strongest and smartest of them all; no one was immune. He appreciated his vod's encouragement anyway, convincing himself that any moment you were going to run into the medbay beside the men you'd dragged from the firefight and get to work doing what you did best.

Time seemed to freeze in the few moments of heavy silence before he heard the first of the gunships approaching and the casualties began pouring in.

No time to think. Time to do.

Kix didn't know how much time had passed as he ran from trooper to trooper, his hands doing the job they were made to do.

Jax met his eyes from across the room. Still no word.

"Kix!"

The medbay doors abruptly swung open, blowing rain into the room. Tup burst into the room out of breath and covered head to toe in mud. One arm was slung around Jesse's waist, supporting most of his weight. The other was guiding a hover gurney. He hurriedly set Jesse in a chair. Jax and another medic rushed to the gurney. Tup sat down heavily next to Jesse after giving a report to Jax. He looked up at Kix.

"Kix I'm so sorry."

Kix's heart stopped. That wasn't you. That couldn't be you. You were supposed to be carrying a gurney, not lying on one. He felt numb.

"What...what happened?" he asked, approaching the two, kneeling down in front of Jesse to get a better look at him. Cuts. Bruises. Dislocated knee. Nothing a bacta tank couldn't heal.

Jesse shook his head. "I'm not sure. One minute we're heading back to camp and the next we're being fired at. I think I got knocked out or something cuz next thing I know, y/n was dragging me to cover."

Kix made a note to run a neurological scan on him due to the supposed head trauma.

"Blood pressure dropping fast!" someone shouted.

"Find that bleeder and tie it off!" Something in his brain snapped. Kix sprang up as if he'd been electrocuted, pulled fully from his head, acting purely on instinct fueled by terror.

"What've we got, sergeant?"

The young medic kneeling on the gurney looked up at him. "[ __ ] year old female. Unconscious. Crush injuries to right leg. Multiple abdominal lacerations. BP 80/50 and dropping."

"Keep putting pressure on those lacs. Give me the scanner. With a BP that low, there's internal bleeding somewhere that we need to find fast." Kix barked out orders quickly and efficiently like he'd done so many times before. You must have been caught in the blast and thrown, he thought. He kept his hands held fast on your wounds trying desperately to keep working so that his thoughts wouldn't have time to spiral. He'd be no use to you if he panicked.

"I'm losing her! Get that crash cart over here now!" Kix yelled. Right now he had to be Kix the Combat Medic, not Kix the worried boyfriend. But it was so hard. "Keep at it, solider. We can't lose her!" I can't lose her.

"I lost her pulse, starting compressions."

Kix knocked aside the shiny medic and jumped up onto the gurney, kneeling beside you.

"One. Two. Three. Four..." Kix pumped at your chest, allowing himself to fall into the all to familiar rhythm of his compressions. You were pale. Too pale. "Come on baby. Come on cyar'ika. Y/n come back to me!" His compressions became erratic, like his breathing. "Come on!" He yelled with anger and grief. You weren't even supposed to be out there tonight. I was.

If I'd never agreed to switch, she'd be alive, she'd be fine.

It's all my fault.

My fault.

Kix couldn't breathe. He couldn't see through the tears blurring his vision.

Jax placed a hand on Kix's shoulder. "Vod, take a break. Let me handle this. You go see to Jesse."

"No!" Kix violently shrugged him off. "No, I need to save her. I have to fix this! She needs me!"

"Kix, listen to me!" Tup grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling his hands from your chest as Jax took over. "Breathe, Kix. It's gonna be ok. It's gonna be okay, vod."

"It's not okay! She's dying!"

Kix's legs gave out, allowing Tup to guide him into the chair beside Jesse who put a comforting hand on his knee. "She's strong, vod. You saved her life."

Kix knew Jax was right to take over. He was too close. Seeing you like that - it was too much. He'd froze and if it wasn't for Jax's quick thinking he might have lost you. He almost lost you. He still might.

"I've got a pulse!" Jax yelled. Kix jumped to his feet, running over despite Tup and Jesse's attempts to keep him away. Relief flooded though him, watching your vitals slowly stabilize.

It wasn't until much later, sitting beside your bed, that Kix broke down and cried.

You were going to be okay.

You woke slowly, flitting in and out of consciousness before finally coming to. The first thing you discovered upon taking a deep breath was the pain. Your chest hurt. Badly. IV lines snaked up both of your arms. You felt stiff and sore. It was only then that you noticed a figure sitting beside you. Kix was slumped over, head resting on the side of your bed. His hand rested on yours. You squeezed it. Kix shot up immediately. He looked terrible, as if he'd spent the last week in the medbay picking up extra shifts just to be near you.

"Hey," you whispered. Your throat felt raw.

"Hey yourself." Kix smiled. A tear escaped the corner of his eye.

"You're crying!" You wondered how close to death you'd really come for Kix to look the way he did. Kix didn't cry. You'd never seen him cry. You reached up to brush his tears away.

"I almost lost you, y/n. You....you died!"

"I...died!?" You shivered, thanking the force or whatever else was out there that Kix wouldn't be alone.

Kix nodded, "Don't....don't ever do that again!"

You grinned weakly. "Wasn't planning on it, cyare."

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@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix

If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

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anxiouspineapple99 · 11 months

Text

Jango’s Sons

Summary: This is what I think of when I hear the song ‘I See Fire’ and I decided to write about it.

Pairing: None

Word Count: 875

Warnings: angst, whump, death, war, alcohol use

Song: I See Fire - Ed Sheeran

A/N: Kind of hurt my own feelings with this one. I apologize. Kind of. Once again not proofread. And yes I am still procrastinating on my other works. My creativity has ADHD too, apparently. Reblogs are super appreciated!

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Oh, misty eye of the mountain below; Keep careful watch of my brothers' souls

And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke; Keep watching over Durin's [Jango’s]sons

The night before deployment the barracks are buzzing with activity. Shinies group together jittery with anticipation, nerves, some even excitement. The seasoned vets are more stoic. They’re thoughtful, remembering the brothers that didn’t get to come home last time. Hoping more make it back this time. The officers are running diagnostics, completing inspections, revisiting and revising battle plans. It isn’t long before the legions, battalions, squads, and regiments have grouped together and rank, experience, and title don’t matter. Tonight, they are only brothers, Jango’s sons.

And if we should die tonight; Then we should all die together

Raise a glass of wine for the last time

Someone always sneaks in a few bottles of alcohol. It’s part of the unspoken tradition in which brothers of all ranks commune together before forging forth into battle. Sometimes it’s a few shinies who sneak in some cheap hooch, sometimes the vets, and sometimes the officers supply the nicer booze. Some Jedi Generals participate as well. Plo Koon never partakes but always provides. He meditates with the Wolf Pack as his men bond over Corellian wine or Port in the Storm. He makes sure his boys have the best because he loves them each as sons and has immense respect for their pre-battle traditions. Anakin joins the 501st every time. He brings a bottle of the finest liquor Padme has on hand. The 501st is always raucous filled with playful banter, teasing, and pranks. When Aayala Secura brings the libations, it’s always Bly’s favorite. And Bly always brings Aayala’s favorite when it’s his turn. No one complains though. They understand. Master Yoda and Master Windu send bottles to the barracks, but do not leave their personal quarters. There is always an encouraging or uplifting sentiment for their men written on some flimsi attached to the gift. Obi-Wan and Cody share a brandy toast while the 212th play a few rounds of sabbac.

Oh, should my people fall; Then surely I'll do the same

Confined in mountain halls; We got too close to the flame

Eventually the levity dies down. Captains, commanders, vets, and even generals address their men. They acknowledge the danger they are walking into. They remind them that they are brothers always. Remember and honor those who fall. Save those you can. Cover each other’s backs. Generals promise to protect as best they can, commanders and captains promise to lead with integrity. Vets give reassurance to shinies. They raise a final glass to their brothers past, their brothers present, and to the Republic of the future. Live to fight another day, boys.

And if the night is burning I will cover my eyes For if the dark returns

Then my brothers will die

The transport ships approach and the men are silent. Resolute jaws clenched, remembering the night before. Follow orders. Orders keep you alive. Making a silent pledge to have their brothers’ backs. To cover each other no matter what. They stand together or they fall together. That is clone brotherhood. The same hearts, the same blood.

And as the sky is falling down; It crashed into this lonely town

Boots hit the ground and they’re already engulfed in the cacophonous roar of blaster fire, the clanking of droids marching, the grinding of the joints of the AT-RT, the rotary cannons, rocket launchers, and orders being yelled by generals and commanders. Comm chatter drifts among helmets. HUD sensors alert in a frenzy. Destruction is everywhere already.

And with that shadow upon the ground I hear my people screaming out

One by one, shiny, vet, captains, commanders, they see their brothers falling around them. They hear the screams of the injured. Push forward. Cover your brothers’ backs. They’ll cover yours. Come back for the injured when you can.

Now I see fire Inside the mountains; I see fire Burning the trees

They close in on the those karkin clankers. Fire. Explosions. It would be deafening if their helmets couldn’t be soundproofed. Push on. Cover your brothers, they’ll cover you. Follow orders, stay alive.

I see fire Hollowing souls; I see fire— Blood in the breeze

It’s still now. The Seps pushed out. Another victory, another tally for the armor. Survivors now must collect themselves. Collect their brothers. Shinies, no longer shiny, stare vacantly as brothers offer a comforting hand on the shoulder or back. Medics search for survivors by the lifesigns transmissions coming from their brothers’ armor. Many are found and are placed on gurneys. Some lifesign transmissions stop short of being found, sometimes mere meters away from their rescuers. The dead are quietly mourned by brothers left standing. No one wins in war, least of all clones. Clankers may not be able to think or improvise, but they also don’t bleed.

Oh you know I saw a city burning out (fire)

And I see fire

Feel the heat upon my skin, yeah (fire)

And I see fire (fire)

Transports bring the survivors back to the attack cruisers awaiting in the planet’s orbit. Live to fight another day, that’s what they keep saying. But tonight, Jango’s sons see fire in their dreams.

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mothask · 2 years

Note

Ahhhh! Everyone is so cute going after all the arcs and high ranking bois, which, mood. But I feel like the battalion bebes need some love too! I want to take all the forever shinies like Tup and Comet and Dogma and Wooley and make them a miniature blanket fort and hang up those dollhouse fairy lights for ambiance and serve them herbal teas in thimbles and honey by the dollop tinkerbell style! Get some Polly pocket or Barbie combs and oh so gently brush their floofs and give them careful head scritches and tuck them in to silk socks for sleeping bags they can nom on if they want a midnight snack. 😊☺️🥰

Sorry but uhm...

I don’t think it worked.

also uhm wooly’s at chillies with the 212th tonight. Thats code for I forgot to draw him in there.

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cloneshipping7567 · 1 year

Text

Romantic Confessions Part 6

Part 6/30

5. "Are you really so oblivious?"

Pairing: Fox x Cody (as requested by anon)

Rating/WC: T/ 4006

Warnings: this one is a bit different to the other fics I’ve made so far, this one is more like a few drabbles put together. I hope you like it!

~~~

Cody doesn’t look up as Fox sits next to him, he simply scoots over so his friend has more room.

Cody understands where the rumors that Fox is cold and distant comes from, but it always amuses him how very wrong they are.

Sure, he isn’t throwing his arms over other troopers, isn’t the first to laugh or joke. But he’s never cold, never pushes people away.

Fox is quiet. He observes, takes in everything around him. He’d always rather listen to his brothers joke and talk than join in himself.

That isn’t because he doesn’t like his brothers, though. That’s just how he shows his affection.

Everyone in the commander class understands; Fox has always been like this. That’s even how Fox and Wolffe got their names in the first place; Fox is the type to curl up and sneakily observe, while Wolffe is always howling with laughter and barking out another story.

Cody knows this. He knows Fox. He knows Fox better than anyone else, if he does say so himself.

So Cody doesn’t look up when Fox sits next to him, nursing what is, more than likely, his third or fourth cup of caf of the morning. He doesn’t greet him or try to get him into a conversation. It isn’t necessary, Fox doesn’t need all of that to feel welcome.

Cody sighs and submits the report, checking the time on his datapad. 0800, Coruscant time. He still has half an hour before he really needs to get started with his day.

“Aren’t you on leave?” Fox asks softly, after taking a slow gulp of caf.

Cody smirks and turns to face Fox, letting his datapad rest in his lap. “The 212th is on leave, yes,” he says.

Fox gives him an unimpressed look, and anyone who isn’t Cody would probably take it as a sign Fox was disinterested or even upset. But Cody knows; Fox is amused by Cody’s work ethic. “Did you at least get to sleep more than usual?”

Cody doesn’t need to answer; he just smiles wider, his scar pulling at the eye.

Fox sighs, handing Cody his precious cup of caf.

Cody gasps, eyes going wide as he takes the mug. “Oh, Fox, I had no idea you felt this way about me,” he teases, scarfing down a few swallows before the addict can change his mind and grab it back.

Fox makes a noise halfway between a hiss and a scoff, but his lips twitch in an aborted smile. “Love of my life,” he snarks back.

Cody’s heart swells, but he looks down at the cup before he gives too much away. “I-“

A sleepy Rex drags himself into the room, grunting a quiet hello as he makes a beeline for the caf machine.

Fox pulls away-when had he gotten so close?- and scoots down the couch. He doesn’t say hello.

“Rough night?” Cody asks in his own greeting, drinking the last of the caf and setting the empty mug down.

“The twins won’t leave me alone,” Rex grumbles, punching the on button a little more forcibly than necessary. “We painted our armor sir, look sir, we can refresh your paint for your sir, we can can help with the flimsiwork, come watch us spar sir-when is it your weekend?”

Cody snickers, and Fox is even looking at Rex, indicating he finds the story just as funny. “Oh no, you got full custody, remember? I get visitation rights.”

Rex grunts again, shifting his weight impatiently as the coffee starts to brew. “Deadbeat dad,” he mumbles under his breath.

Cody chuckles, throwing an arm over the back of the couch and therefore over Fox’s shoulders. Fox indicates he enjoys the closeness by not moving. “Echo and Fives are not that bad. I think they’re great.”

“Yeah, because you only work with them on missions,” Rex snarks. He hits the side of the machine in annoyance. “They’re great on missions. Best couple of shinies I’ve ever- why the hell wasn’t the pot already started?” Rex turns his prideful smile back into a scowl when he notices Cody smirking at him.

Fox’s lips twitch, Cody notices. He might actually smile. “They’re still babies, they’ll grow out of it,” Cody soothes. He sneakily pushes Fox’s coffee mug further out of sight.

Rex shoots him a glare, and Cody’s smile only widens. “I’m never going to sleep again,” he grumbles dramatically.

“I heard it’s best to sleep when the baby sleeps,” Cody suggests, and laughs as a sugar packet hits him in the forehead.

“They never karking sleep,” Rex complains, finally able to pour himself a mug. “They’re too amped up to prove themselves.”

Cody’s smirk fades into a soft smile. “They want you to be proud of them,” Cody says softly. He sneakily shifts his arm so it’s fully over Fox’s shoulder and not the couch. “Take it as a compliment.”

Rex makes a disgusted sound, but his lips are finally twisted up into a smile. “I’m sending them to boarding school, first chance I get.”

Cody’s eyes widen. “ARC training? Really? You think they can handle that?”

Fox has wiggled his way out from under Cody’s arm, stealing his mug back and pouring himself a cup. Cody fights back a sad sigh.

Rex doesn’t respond, a proud grin tugging at his lips as he leaves.

Fox turns to Cody, mug in hand and hips leaning against the counter. “When did you and Rex get divorced?” He asks drily; but Cody hears the humor behind it.

Cody rolls his eyes. “Rishi. We adopted the twins, had a massive argument about how to raise them, and the rest was history.” He stands up himself, stretching his arms above his head and groaning as his aching muscles protest.

Fox stares at him over the lip of the mug for a moment, before clearing his throat to answer. “And by massive argument, you mean-“

“He called dibs,” Cody says, rolling his neck and grinning. “He’s always had more patience for shinies, you know that.”

Fox hums, hiding his face in his caf.

When they were cadets, Cody and Fox were the best fighters. Out of all the CC’s, no one could best either one of them in combat.

Wolffe got close a few times, but the only CC able to beat Cody or Fox, was Fox and Cody.

But they aren’t cadets anymore, and clankers don’t follow sparring rules.

To be fair to Cody, he’s kicked countless droids into broken messes. It’s almost his signature move. (It impresses the hell out of the shinies, okay? So he likes to show off, so what?).

He just wasn’t expecting the droid to move when it did, and he didn’t expect the extended arm to slam into his ribs that hard.

“Honestly, sir,” Stitches grumbles, tightening the bandage around Cody’s ribs far more than is strictly necessary. “How many times do I have to tell you not to kick the kriffing droids?”

Cody winces, shooting his medic a pained grin. “Technically, I didn’t actually kick the droid. It got me first.”

Stitches pats the bandages closed with just a tad too much force, making Cody wince again. “Idiot,” he hisses under his breath, before taking a step back. “Take it easy for the next week, use ice if the pain gets unbearable. Nothing more to do for broken ribs.”

Cody nods once, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “No pain stims?”

Stitches gives Cody an unimpressed look. “Do you promise not to kick any more droids?”

Cody sighs in defeat, and then winces as his ribs hurt. “Probably better to save them for my shinies anyway,” Cody grumbles as he makes his way out of the medbay.

“Sir,” he’s greeted as soon as he’s stepped out the doors. Cody fights back another sigh; duty never stops. “Glad to see you’re okay.”

Cody nods once; he hates being out of armor. He’s just in his lower blacks, having had to remove the top for Stitches to look at. His hands twitch for his bucket, which is with the rest of his kit in his room. “Of course, Waxer. It would take more than a rogue punch to take me out.”

Waxer grins, his own bucket under one arm. He holds out a datapad. “Not according to the casualty reports, sir. Some idiot marked you down before verifying if you were actually dead.”

Cody groans in annoyance, grabbing the datapad and looking it over. “Dammit,” he mumbles, one hand running through his hair. “Who has seen this?”

“It’s already been sent to the top, sir, Coruscant has seen it by now.” Waxer shoots a guilty look at Cody; he probably feels responsible, but the casualty report wouldn’t have fallen to a lieutenant. It would have probably fallen on Rex’s shoulders to double check, or some other captain working the mission.

Cody groans, punching the bridge of his nose. “That’s great,” he grumbles. “Do you have any clue how hard it is to come back from the dead?”

Waxer chokes on a laugh, clearing his throat as he tries to remain professional. “I imagine it would be quite difficult, sir.”

Cody rolls his eyes, rubbing a hand over his face. “You know what? I’ll be dead for a few hours. Maybe I’ll finally get a break.”

Waxer smirks, taking the datapad from Cody. “I’ll inform the general of your untimely demise,” Waxer says, saluting once.

“Great idea Lieutenant, I knew I promoted you for a reason.”

“While you’re dead,” Waxer says, still looking straight ahead. “Might I delegate some of your responsibilities for you? Maybe the general can handle botched reports, for example…”

Cody’s eyes light up, and he pats a hand on Waxer’s shoulder. “Brilliant idea Waxer. Feel free to inform General Kenobi of any flimsiwork I might not get to while I’m still dead. Maybe he’ll shed a tear over his lost commander.”

Waxer snorts once, before stopping in front of Cody’s quarters. “Of course, sir,” he says, giving a quick salute.

Cody opens his door and locks it behind him, sighing heavily. He makes his way to his desk, grabbing his comm before gently lowering himself on his bunk. The pain is intense, sure, but he’s had worse.

A few messages from the general asking about his location, with a follow up of ‘let me know when you’re out of the medbay.’ Well, considering Cody is dead for the next few hours, he chooses to ignore that.

A couple from Rex. One indicating that he’s back on his own ship. Then, ‘lol congrats on being dead enjoy your nap.’

He sends Rex an ‘I will’ and checks the rest of his comms. Mostly a bunch of updates and requests for his advice or presence. All of which will be ignored until after he’s been revived.

He’s about to put his comm down when a new message pings through. He debates ignoring it anyway, but sighs and checks.

It’s from Fox. Shit. He might have read the report. Cody opens it quickly. ‘You better not actually be dead ’ is all it reads.

Cody smiles fondly. It may have read as cold if anyone else had sent the message; but he knows Fox, and he knows how scared he must be to have sent the comm in the first place.

Cody wastes no time, starting a holocall immediately.

Fox picks up just as quick, his eyes frantically searching Cody’s face. He visibly lets out a sigh of relief, before morphing his face back into an impassive one. “You look like shit.”

Cody snorts, and then winces as his ribs protest. “Oh, darling, you have such a way with words,” he retorts.

Fox grunts, taking in Cody’s face. “What happened? You’re reported as killed in action.”

Cody hums softly. “Nah, just got backhanded by a droid in the ribs. See?” He reaches his arm out, allowing the comm to take in more of Cody’s body, including his bandaged chest. “Stitches said I broke half of ‘em on my left side. A new record.”

“You never have been good at accepting second place,” Fox snarks, and his breathing is starting to slow again. “Puncture any lungs?”

“No,” Cody says, chuckling despite himself. “Room for improvement, I suppose.”

“Don’t,” Fox says, looking away after his sudden outburst. He clears his throat, looking back to Cody. “Don’t ever do that again. Don’t get hurt bad enough to show up on the KIA reports.”

Cody quirks a brow. “You really thought I was dead,” Cody says more than asks.

Fox narrows his eyes, shifting in his seat. “The reports aren’t usually wrong.”

Cody hums in agreement, staring at Fox’s face. Knowing the other clone was this worried, was upset, even, makes Cody’s stomach flutter. He knows Fox cares about him—they all care about each other to some degree or another. But this just feels different for some reason.

“I won’t do it again,” he promises softly. Any other day he might have teased a bit longer; but he just wants to let Fox know he’s taking the vulnerability seriously right now.

Fox nods once, taking a deep, steadying breath. He doesn’t end the call, but he doesn’t say anything else either.

Cody smirks, melting back into his normal joking mood with Fox. “I will be dead for the next few hours at least, though. Waxer is bullying Kenobi into undoing the report, and I’m not sure he even knows how.”

Fox laughs at that, almost breathless. “Do the Jedi ever file their own flimsiwork? Or do they pawn it all off on the clones?”

Cody grins, shifting to be a bit more comfortable on his bed. “Kenobi usually does his own, but Rex almost always does Skywalker’s. Honestly, I think he just doesn’t trust Skywalker to do them right.”

Fox hums, leaning back in his desk chair. “I would believe that, Rex’s general is crazy. Did you know he willingly spends time with the Supreme Chancellor?”

Cody lifts a brow. “You don’t like him?”

“He gives me the creeps!” Fox complains, a sly grin in place. “Maybe it’s just because he’s a politician. All the senators suck.”

Cody laughs softly, hissing in a pained breath. “I’ve met a couple. I like Amidala.”

Fox hums, pretending to think about it. “Actually, yeah, I like her. I saved her once from a Hutt, she was very capable. Could have mistaken her for a Jedi, the way she fought.”

Cody grins, eyes dropping in exhaustion. “I believe that,” he mumbles.

There’s silence on the other end, as Fox just stares at him. Cody’s eyes fight valiantly to stay open, but the battle is lost before long.

He’s almost asleep when he hears Fox whisper, “Sleep well, Cody.” He might have even imagined it.

Cody smiles fondly as he watches his troopers march off the ship in proper formation for exactly long enough to get off the ramp before booking it as fast as they can into the city.

Coruscant is a giant city - a planet-wide city - full of fun to be had and trouble to get into.

The 212th almost never gets to come here, what with shore leave being so rare and Coruscant usually being so far away from where their last battle was.

But Obi Wan was needed in the council, and it just so happened to line up with the scheduled week’s worth of shore leave the 212th earned. So here they are, more than ready to spend a week’s worth of off-duty time in the city.

As it just so happens, Cody also enjoys spending time on this planet whenever they can. And yes, that may have something to do with a certain member of the Coruscant guard.

“That’s all of them,” his general declares, voice just as amused as Cody feels. “How many do you think we’ll have to bail out of the brig?”

Cody smirks under his bucket. “I’ll bet you a week’s worth of flimsiwork it’s at least 20.”

Kenobi scoffs. “Jedi do not gamble,” he says.

“Two weeks that Wooley is one of them.” Wooley is usually a calm, mild-tempered clone, but Cody knows Ghost Company likes to party on leave. He hopes Kenobi doesn’t know this.

“You’re on,” Kenobi says, walking off the ship without another word.

Cody shakes his head with a laugh, pulling up his comm. He pings Fox first, letting him know he’s planet side and free for a week. When he gets the coordinates to Fox’s apartment in the upper levels in response, he opens a comm to his entire battalion.

You have a week here to get arrested, don’t pull anything tonight or me and the general are leaving you there until the morning. Have fun, men.

With that done, he stretches himself out and starts the walk to Fox’s apartment. He could catch a speeder, but it’s been ages since he’s been allowed to walk at his own pace instead of march. And he’s been cooped up in that ship for the past two days as they made their way through hyperspace.

Cody loves Coruscant. Growing up on a planet where almost everyone looked exactly the same was tiresome, boring. It almost feels like no two people on Coruscant look the same, even the ones of the same species. They all look so unique.

Cody sighs as he checks his coordinates. He’s been walking for two hours, and he isn’t even halfway there. He grumbles to himself, pulling out his comm. Never mind, he just wants to be there, preferably before Fox gets off shift and worries.

Cody thanks the driver and gets out, making his way to the correct number. He punches in the codes for the door, and makes himself at home.

He sighs sadly at the state of the apartment. It’s dingy, and absolutely tiny, and the air tastes stale in here.

He puts his bucket on the tiny coffee table, and starts piling his armor on the floor in the corner. Down to just his blacks, Cody sits on the very uncomfortable couch and stretches out. He checks the time and sighs. He still has about an hour until Fox is supposed to get off shift.

Want me to get us some food? Your kitchen is depressingly under stocked. He sends comm quickly, looking around the apartment once more.

Aw, babe, were you gonna cook for me? How romantic. That’s not an answer, the asshole.

Cody rolls his eyes, but can’t help the smile from gracing his lips. His stomach warms at the thought of Fox calling him that seriously. He shoves that down, focusing on the pressing issue: what the hell they’re going to eat.

You don’t even have any ration bars, Fox. How are you still alive?

About ten cups of caf a day, and pure spite.

Cody rolls his eyes with a soft chuckle, standing from the couch. You’re worse than Rex, he sends.

I’ll pick something up.

Cody sighs when no other comms come through, and leaves it on the kitchen counter. He makes his way to the fresher, peeling his upper blacks off and leaving them on top of the closed toilet.

It’s been so long since he had time to just take care of himself more than just a quick rinse. He wants to take advantage.

Cody finds Fox’s clippers and gives himself a much overdue haircut. He cleans the hair away and rinses the sink out, before giving himself a proper shave as well. It feels nice going slow, taking his time.

Finally smooth, he shucks his lower blacks as well, and sets a clean towel out for himself. He sets the shower to an almost too hot temperature, and sighs at the water pressure. It’s not any better than on the ship, sadly.

Whatever, a hot shower is a hot shower. And there are no water rations on Coruscant; he can take his time.

And take his time Cody does. He lets the water wash over his sore muscles. He groans as he lets the hot water work him over. It feels so much nicer, just knowing that he doesn’t have to rush, and doesn't have any responsibilities for the next few days.

Eventually he sighs and washes himself, even allowing himself to enjoy the sensation of properly washing his hair.

He groans in self pity as he turns the water off, knowing Fox will probably be getting off shift soon. He gets out of the shower and dries his hair first, walking out of the fresher with the intention of stealing Fox’s blacks.

He's still rubbing the towel through his hair when he hears it.

“Oh, hello there,” Fox purrs, voice half amused and half…something Cody can’t tell.

Cody curses, using the towel to cover himself with warmed cheeks. “Force, Fox, I didn’t know you’d be back so soon!”

Fox is smirking, eyes roving over Cody’s body with dark eyes. He was halfway through getting his armor off, and he continues slowly. “I convinced Thorn to come in half an hour early so I could go,” he says.

Cody groans in humiliation, wrapping the towel fully around his hips. “I’m sorry,” he says, unable to look at Fox anymore.

Fox hums, taking the last of his armor off and stalking closer to Cody. “No need to apologize,” he murmurs, and it just sounds so sensual, so-

No, not while Cody only has a towel in between his groin and Fox. His cheeks warm even more, and he ducks his head. “Fox, I-“

Fox puts a finger under Cody’s chin, lifting gently. Cody is helpless but to allow himself to be moved. He meets Fox’s gaze, his own embarrassed eyes meeting dark, almost hungry ones.

Fox hums once, taking in Cody’s expression. “Why are you embarrassed?” Fox whispers. Cody can feel the other’s breath on his lips, and Cody is really having a hard time remembering how to breathe. “We grew up with communal showers.”

Cody swallows thickly, eyes shifting from Fox’s eyes to his lips and back again. “Because…” he feels his breath shudder as Fox’s thumb rubs against Cody’s jaw. “It’s different. You’re different.”

Fox practically purrs, stepping that much closer. “Why is it different?” He asks. “Why am I different?”

Cody’s eyes flutter, and he fights to keep his breathing under control. “Because you…you never really…I-“ Cody huffs in annoyance. He’s the fucking Marshal Commander of the entire 7th Corps of the GAR. He doesn’t stumble over his words.

And yet.

“You never really seemed as interested,” Cody finally gets out, leaving the as I was implied. It’s not really the answer to Fox’s direct question.

Cody feels more than hears Fox’s breathy laughter. “Are you really so oblivious?” He murmurs, pinching Cody’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve been in love with you since we were tubies, darling.”

Cody doesn’t swoon. If anyone asked him, he most definitely did not swoon. The Marshal Commander does not swoon.

But hearing it said out loud did, maybe, make his knees feel just a tad weaker. Only a little.

“You-you-why didn’t you say anything?” Cody asks, voice surprisingly husky. “I was flirting with you for so long!”

Fox lets out a long suffering sigh. “And here I thought you understood me,” he teases. “Why did you think I sought you out, and let you be in my space all the time?”

Cody hums in acknowledgment, eyes flitting back to Fox’s lips. “Yeah, okay,” he concedes, flashes of memories where Fox was being perhaps a bit too friendly with Cody flitting through his mind. Dammit.

Fox rolls his eyes, smirk set in place. “Idiot.” He doesn’t let Cody reply, before he connects their lips softly.

Cody may have been an idiot so far, but he isn’t anymore. He keeps one hand holding his towel up while the other wraps around Fox’s shoulder, cupping the back of his neck to keep him where he is. He has a lot of missed kissing opportunities to make up for.

#Cody x Fox #Fox x Cody #Cody/fox #fox/cody #my writing #cloneshipping

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mformarsala · 2 years

Text

I've just read Star Wars: Obi-Wan #3 and I have a lot of thoughts and feelings so here they are (spoilers!)

1) Obi-Wan in long robs!!

2) Holly shit Obi-Wan still has his old armor

3) Does that mean Obi-Wan never learned about the chips????

4) I just love to see Cody's role and competency acknowledged.

5) See, this takes place after Christophsis so it's not the first battle Obi-Wan has with 212th or with Cody as his 2nd-in-command. Meaning Obi-Wan is thinking about shinies. And about Cody. Perhaps because he is another authority figure that feels responsible for the lives they are going to lose tomorrow.

6) He-he, Glory (im sorry)

7) Obi-Wan canonically loses himself in the view and in his thoughts and Cody has to save him.

8) Cody is protecting Obi-Wan's head.

9) They are so foul for this one. I straight up had to stop reading after "last night" and compose myself. Airo, baby boy, I love you, you did not die, we have collectively adopted you. Now every fic about 212th has to have Airo (right? right???)

10) The banner and the jedi symbol being the same color is Poetic.

11) ..Obi-Wan feels clones die on the battlefield (i think im gonna be sick)

12) Obi-Wan calls clones people

13) Cody turning to check on his general

14) Pieta. I feel like besides immediate tragedy there is a far-reaching narrative parallel with the clones that are brought into the world to die for others and Obi-Wan that can do nothing but love them.

15) Clones and jedi are meant for each other.

16) I just know that this came up later as part of Cody's argument to keep wrestling Obi-Wan into the armor ("we could have lost you, general")

17) There is no strategic reason for Obi-Wan to carry the banner.

18) As far as I understand commander Mekedrix is career military. And this panel is a juxtaposition of his views and those of jedi. Where Mekedrix is trained to focus on strategy and the big picture as the means to work and cope under the implicit assumption that there will be casualties under his orders, Obi-Wan is unable to turn away from the loss of life.

19) (he reminds me of namor)

20) I.. Obi-Wan needed to watch the sunrise and then Cody with the sun on his armor came to check on him. Cody was really a stronghold that helped Obi-Wan get through the war.

21) Cody is reaching for Obi-Wan.

In conclusion:

#obi wan kenobi #star wars #sw #codywan #m says

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squirrelno2 · 1 year

Text

My Star Wars OCs: a comedic primer

if you’ve wandered here from ao3 you’ve probably encountered at least one of these people, but if you’ve found me through the vagaries of tumblr that is less likely so! Here is a list of my major ocs for your convenience for the next time I start going off about nothing whatsoever, organised by the story/universe they were introduced in:

Sometimes a Family Is verse

Ven/Shiny: she/her, Nautolan, Dogma’s adopted daughter. half-forgotten childhood trauma papered over with borrowed trauma from her family who spends most of her time clinging to anything clone-related that she can

Nalyan: he/him, human, totally not Dogma’s adopted son (he is they just don’t ever admit it). A poorly rested limp noodle of a person who is too busy doing bootleg medical research in the back of a beat up ship to go outside.

Clone Rebellion verse

Sneak: he/him, clone, formerly served under Krell [Sneak darling I’m so sorry]. puts up a very good front of being a cool collected criminal mastermind when on a con but also will jump off a bridge if you dare him to. as one does.

Nali: she/her, Twi’lek, smuggler/con artist. her soft spot for slaves and clones is a parsec wide, but also she’s usually the one daring Sneak to jump off a bridge

Nine: he/him, clone, still serving under Krell. baby Nine is a bundle of joy and every version of him after the first chapter is deeply deeply fucked, but that won’t stop him from also daring Sneak to jump off a bridge. while doing a flip.

Drum: he/him, clone, pilot in 327th. he likes music and singing and making way too astute observations about people, and is probably the only person on this list who doesn’t think people should be dared to jump off bridges. in general he's under the impression he's the smartest person in the room, and on rare occasions he's almost right.

Dead Brothers Rescue Coalition verse

Nel: she/he/they, clone, lieutenant in the Coruscant Guard. by circumstance they are a pencil-pusher and by passion they are a detective, but mostly they're just really bad at friendship. they make up for it with stubbornness.

Jesse Lives verse

Jale: he/him, theelin, scavenger freelance salvage worker. brightly coloured dipshit who loves his mother and has never effectively used a weapon in his life. preferred survival tactics are Talking Too Much and Being Useful, but also the first one tends to get him into trouble more than anything.

Time Slip verse

Arson: he/him, clone, maintenance on Kamino. absolutely full of little shit energy and voted most likely to commit the crime he’s named for. likes droids more than people, which considering the people he knows is absolutely fair.

Murder: he/they, clone, washed-up medic in training turned Kaminoan maintenance. would never ever hurt a fly but also spends most of their time making excuses for their more violent loved ones because ??? cognitive dissonance I guess.

Jaywalking: she/her, clone, maintenance on Kamino. knows all your secrets and is just trying to decide if she wants to blackmail you or kill you over them. the thing keeping her from doing the latter is usually the fact that Murder and Arson would be sad about it.

Other

Nobody: he/him, clone, ARC trooper who works almost exclusively with 212th. he is exactly as fucked up as his name implies, and also more so because his best friend used to be Slick. make of that what you will.

Pip: he/him, clone, 501st. a beautiful ray of sunshine who will see the worst person in the room, ask "is anyone gonna befriend them?" and not wait for an answer.

Roadkill: he/him, clone, 501st. the worst person in the room. really tired of Pip's shit.

Zeel: she/her, Rodian, doctor with a very very lapsed license. abrasive at the best of times, but also winner of the "Most Cameos in My Fics" award because she can't stop helping people. mostly clones. she's very annoyed about that fact, too.

More OCs can be found @shagpaboloutpost (clones) and @relevant-url-incoming (SWTOR)

#I could pin this but i think it's more fun if i periodically reblog this as I add characters and keep making this everyone else's problem #sometimes a family is #clone rebellion fic #clone ocs #star wars ocs #if anybody. wants to poke me with questions about any of them. please do i'm dying to infodump and trying not to torment my girlfriend #this isn't even all of them #just the ones with major roles in a published fic #hell i didn't even include Nel who is arguably a major role in reunions but they've only shown up the once so far #someday Nel. someday i will give you a plotline worthy of you and it will only be mildly traumatic i promise

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