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#Coruscant 99
allanalightwood · 1 month
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if temuera morrison has dimples. then boba fett has dimples.
If boba fett has dimples, then jango fett has dimples.
IF JANGO FETT HAS DIMPLES. THEN IT'S CANON THAT THE CLONES HAVE DIMPLES.
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trapezequeen · 24 days
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Hunter Being Omega’s Dad -> Truth and Consequences
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stars-n-spice · 9 months
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Hey guys I made things I think you would all appreciate...
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UPDATE:
I MADE THEM :)
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wantonlywindswept · 11 months
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so all of the fic where the GAR and Coruscant Guard don't get along because the GAR thinks Coruscant is a cushy gig and the Guard are in Literal Hell are 
so fucking chefkiss
like it is a trope i will DEVOUR, i will unhinge my jaw and swallow that shit whole
but 
what about an inverse?
what about a Guard that's the protecting soldier meme except real?
troopers on leave on Coruscant finally feel like they can relax from the war because they know the Guard has their back, and everyone knows that if you need a hand or an ear or a hug you can ask any Guard* and they are always the most patient helpful big brother types ever, they will listen and they will help and they will protecc
(*sole exception: fox**, who shoulders all of the pain and rage and condenses it into a tiny supernova of fury in his chest that he shoves down into a locked box of emotions, and one day he'll die
**except also very much including fox, who rages and rails and might throttle you for being an idiot but he'll also absolutely gut any aggressive natborn that even breathes in your direction)
so they still might think that Coruscant's a cakewalk compared to the frontlines but they're glad that they have brothers protecting the homefront too, they're glad that at least SOME of them can stay gentle and kind and at peace
of course then palpatine and the sith and all the corruption in the senate are exposed
(because TCW canon is for COWARDS and people who like being SAD)
and the GAR realizes all the shit that the Corries went through, all the ostracization and threats and abuse and pain
and it just
made them kind
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anxiouspineapple99 · 8 months
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Greetings! May I request Wrecker, Hound, and/or Hunter, whichever of my guys inspires for emoji things! ty <3
How about all three? 😊 🥰
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list babes 💕: @the-bad-batch-baroness @deejadabbles @dystopicjumpsuit @multi-fan-dom-madness @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @blueink-bluesoul @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @freesia-writes @mandos-mind-trick @808tsuika @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @moonlightwarriorqueen @523rdrebel @eyeluvmusic21 @isthereanechoinhere96 @ladyzirkonia @sinfulsalutations
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boggsart · 1 year
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“Look at all these fucking peasants”
This is a series, where i pair up the batchers with the most...compatible clone lmao
5/3- Crosshair and Fox
Please do not repost without permission.
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momojedi · 5 months
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momo: i’m totally fine.
also momo: *proceeds to sent an entire list of the clones of the GAR and their kinks to my best friend while he’s brushing his teeth*
@t3tch0
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amberskyyking · 23 days
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Dying Isn't Very Regulation: Chapter 14
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Ninety-Nine finally gets to go on a mission with his brothers, like he always wanted, and be a good soldier, just like them.
(Or, a self-indulgent 5 9 16?? chapter fic inspired by Snapback by @toomanyteefs with Fives and Ninety-Nine, because I have emotions about this, they deserves the world, and the narrative has officially run away with me!)
Ninety-Nine couldn’t help but let out a gleeful gasp as he stepped off the ship and his boots sank into cold, crunchy snow. He could hardly believe it, hardly believe he was here, with his brothers, on a mission! The dust that coated everything on Melida-Daan, filtering sunlight through its hazy glow in the air, had topped anything he experienced on pristine, chemically sterile Kamino, but snow? He reached down to cup a handful of it in his gloves and squeezed it, smiling with delight as it packed together in his fist. The frigid, sharp air bit at the exposed skin on his face, he felt a prickling sensation in his nose as he inhaled and exhaled, and a little puff of fog escaped his mouth.
“Use both hands and you can make it into a snowball!” Wrecker said eagerly, his voice muffled under a thick woolen scarf. “Like this!” 
Fives grinned as Wrecker pounded a mound of snow into a ball shape and reeled back, taking aim at the back of Hunter’s head, when something went Splat! On the back of his own and made him yelp.
“Hey!” 
Omega stood giggling but quickly shrieked and took cover behind Fives as Wrecker lobbed his giant snowball at her instead! Ninety-Nine laughed along with them, scooping up more snow to make a snowball of his own and join in the fun when Crosshair stepped down off the ship himself with a glare at them all.
“Don’t forget we have a mission,” He snarled, slamming on his helmet. “This isn’t a field trip.”
Full Chapter (And Story!): Good Soldiers & Good Brothers
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fanfoolishness · 9 days
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I like to imagine that in the future, people remember the clones. After Palpatine falls for good on Exegol, imagine an explosion of freedom and knowledge in those days after the final defeat: imagine archaeologists and scholars plumbing the depths of Imperial and First Order records, trying to figure out what had happened so it could never happen again. And through it all they find the clones’ story woven into everything, until a new field emerges of Clone Studies, a loose alliance of military history buffs and research biologists and anthropologists and ethicists.
They catalogue the Kaminoans’ research; they review the clone memorials on Coruscant, on Zeffo, monuments as large as a massive wall or as small as a quiet statue, from people throughout the galaxy who were grateful for what they did. They study the great tragedy and betrayal of the chip, finally understanding the scope of Palpatine’s plans and bringing them out into the open, sharing the truth that the clones never chose to betray the Jedi Order and Republic they had served faithfully. They study old war vids and oral histories from people of long-lived species or whose grandparents remembered the clones; they build, memory by memory, a sense of the culture, the camaraderie, the brotherhood, the loyalty. They collect vids of battle songs and in-jokes and an interior language shared among them, springing up over the years.
They find and list their names, self-chosen or given by their brothers: Rex, Fives, Howzer, Echo, Tup, Gregor, Wolffe, Cody, Boil, Waxer, Cut. They study the clones whose differences defined them and knit them into a family whose ties could not be broken, Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair, Omega. They study the discarded who nevertheless still had value - 99, Emerie, the clones who were culled in infancy for being wrong. There are specialists who devote their entire branch of study to the only male unaltered clone and his infamous exploits throughout the galaxy, so alike his father’s. They study the years of the clone rebellion, a fight that paved the way for the next wave of fighters and the next after them.
The clones are gone. That is undisputed. Their kind came for a little while, and then vanished, burning brightly; their tale was a tragedy, but one unique in all its seeming sameness. There are conferences and holovids and books. There are debates and research firing up young scholars about a time only their great-grandparents can remember.
In the future, after all the clones are gone, there are still stories.
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stellarbit · 1 month
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Shifting Loyalties
No warnings. 2.3k words
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You're a dropout Jedi who left with Echo to join the Bad Batch. You and The Batch are assigned to work with the 501st. The Batch get a bit spicy about how friendly you are with the regs.
Inspired by physical touch by @queenariesofnarnia :') it's perfect
First attempt at the boys but bro I had so much fun with this. I'm definitely going to be doin more cause it gave me ideas for days. Enjoyyyyy
The Marauder's landing ramp wasn't halfway extended, and your foot tapped with anticipation. Spotting the 501st squadron as you descended, they stood in a group, not in formation, eagerly awaiting your arrival. Working with the Bad Batch was a thrill, but you couldn't deny missing your first squad.
When Echo departed, Hunter extended you the same offer to join the Bad Batch. As a Jedi dropout, you no longer belonged on Coruscant or in the Order. Your path diverged, but that didn't mean you didn't occasionally yearn for your old teammates.
Before it was fully safe to exit, you hurled yourself out of the ship, dashing toward the awaiting clones. The Batch were momentarily stunned; even Tech tore his eyes away from his datapad at your sudden outburst.
"Shorty!" Fives exclaimed as you barrelled into his arms, spinning you around before settling you among your old squad.
"Shorty?" Crosshair sneered, visibly annoyed by what he was seeing. You darted between the regs, embracing each one, sometimes two at a time.
You meshed well with the Batch, but they weren't the touchy-feely type. Consequently, you lacked the courage to breach physical boundaries, especially considering how often you seemed to get under their skin. After your fallout with the Order, you couldn't risk facing any more rejection.
As the Batch followed after you, Wrecker swiveled his head toward his brothers, clearly confused. "Wha- what's going on?" He scratched his head, gesturing in your direction. "What's all that about?" He referred to your playful antics with the group of regs, laughing and roughhousing like a child.
You weren't cold toward them; in fact, you engaged in comfortable teasing. However, you maintained a professional distance, refraining from physical contact, let alone running into their arms.
Echo shrugged, a smile playing on his lips as he reminisced about his former life. "She's just saying hi," he explained. "She served with the 501st for a long time, even before I was taken to Skako Minor." Nostalgia washed over him at the sight of you standing with his 501st brothers - just like old times.
Hunter blinked in astonishment. "That's normal for her?" He had never witnessed you so carefree and jovial before.
Tech tucked his datapad away, adjusting his goggles as he observed the scene. "By their reactions, this doesn't seem abnormal for her. Why this is the first time we're witnessing it, I'm uncertain." He turned to Echo. "Have you seen this behavior before?"
"Sure, but you're all overthinking it," Echo replied, realizing the tension building among his brothers. "She's just comfortable with them." He regretted the last sentence immediately, sensing their egos regarding regular clones turning this joyful reunion into an unspoken competition.
"If she's so comfortable with them," Crosshair spat, "Maybe she should go back to her precious regs." It was exactly the response Echo feared.
The group watched as you responded to Jesse's teasing with a flirtatious elbow, then stumbled slightly into Rex, who steadied you with a hand on your shoulder.
"It's good to see you. Keeping Echo out of trouble?" Rex smiled down at you, then glanced at Echo standing among the Batch. His smile faded upon noticing Clone Force 99 in various stages of glowering. He patted your shoulder. "Uh… why don't you find General Skywalker while I brief the rest of your squad?"
Without a glance back at the Batch, you followed the order. Anakin briefed you on the mission before easing into conversation. "How are you holding up?" He leaned against a crate of supplies.
"It was hard at first, but I feel…" You paused, feeling a warmth spreading over your chest, grateful it rarely reached your cheeks. "At home with the Batch." You couldn't suppress the smile the thought of the Batch brought you. They made your life exciting, and you felt safe fighting alongside them.
Anakin hadn't missed the looks Clone Force 99 threw your way, especially the nastier ones aimed at the clones you hugged. "I'm glad to hear that, Short Stuff." When Hunter and Wrecker glanced over at the two of you with something like disdain, Anakin smirked. Oh, this is too easy. He leaned down just enough so that your face eclipsed his, just out of sight of the Batchers. "Though, it looks like your new crew isn't too happy with you."
You jerked back, incredulous. "Excuse me?" By the time you whipped around, the Batch were already to the Marauder. Everything seemed normal. You shoved Anakin back. "Kriff off, Skywalker."
Anakin raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Anyway, it looks like it's time for you to rejoin your squad. Good luck."
"Pfft, good luck?" You pulled a face and cracked your neck. "I don't need luck on missions." You may have missed the Jedi General, but you did not miss his arrogant humor.
Anakin smirked as you headed back out and out of earshot. "It wasn't for the mission."
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Inside the ship, the atmosphere shifted when you returned. Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, Tech, and Echo were scattered about on various tasks, their sudden silence and exchanged glances going unnoticed by you as you busied yourself with pulling out sleeping supplies. There was no way you were missing a chance to sleep off the ship.
Sat cleaning his gun, Crosshair’s eyes bore into your back. It didn’t take Hunter’s senses for you to feel his glare. Still packing, you said over your shoulder, “What is it, Crosshair?”
“Oh, nothing,” Crosshair sneered, leaning forward. “Just didn’t realize you missed your regs so much.”
“And why wouldn’t I miss them?” You snorted, not realizing that earned you an even nastier look from the white-haired clone. “Some people have friends, Crosshair. What’s wrong with that?”
Raising an eyebrow, you turned to face him, a smirk playing on your lips. "And what's wrong with that? Some of us actually have friends, you know."
Tech, engrossed in a control panel, interjected, "He's not questioning your friendships. He's just pointing out the obvious preference you seem to have for your old squadmates."
Your hands stilled, and you turned to face them, sensing an underlying tension in the air. "What's going on here?"
Wrecker shuffled awkwardly, his expression troubled. "We just thought you were happier with us."
"I am happy!" you exclaimed. "But it's natural to be excited to see old friends, isn't it?"
When Wrecker’s defeated look didn’t change you looked to Hunter, the sensible brother, for relief. Instead, he had his arms crossed and eyes fixed away from you.
They can’t be serious. You started to turn to Echo when Crosshair abruptly got up, setting his gun aside, and loomed over you within a second.
“Don’t look at Echo to save you,” Crosshair growled, his voice low and menacing. As Crosshair rose from his seat, his eyes narrowed at you. "You seem a little too cozy with them for just 'old friends.'" You tried to step away, but found yourself backed against the counter behind you.
“Cross,” Hunter warned, but his brother didn’t heed the caution, slamming a hand on the shelf a few inches from your face.
The close proximity allowed you to catch Crosshair's scent—gun oil and mint—a combination you'd never been so close to before. It left you breathless, barely able to formulate a response. Crosshair raked his eyes over you as he idly lolled a toothpick around his mouth. He leaned in close. “Why so shy now, Shorty?” he taunted, his voice dropping even lower.
Despite the shiver you felt at the nickname rolling off Crosshair’s tongue, ignored the jibe. “What’s your problem with ‘Shorty’?” you bit back, unwilling to back down.
Tech swiftly wedged himself between you and Crosshair, his tone firm but diplomatic. "Let's not act like children here." Placing a hand on your chest and the other on Crosshair's shoulder, he continued, "Although 'Shorty' might not be the most accurate nickname. If you prefer something else-"
His voice trailed off as he noticed the flush creeping up your chest and spreading to your cheeks and ears. Tech's wide eyes darted between your face and his hand, realizing the unintended intimacy of his touch. "Oh," he stammered, but didn’t pull back his hand. "I-I apologize."
Feeling the weight of their collective stares, you squirmed uncomfortably, yearning for some space to breathe. Tech's touch, coupled with Crosshair's taunting sent a flurry of conflicting emotions coursing through you, rendering you speechless. It seemed like every part of you was reacting, including that one lower part that seemed to have a mind of its own.
Before the tension could escalate further, Echo chimed in with an observation. "Well, I've never seen that before."
Returning to reality, you brushed Tech's hand away and swiftly grabbed your sleeping gear, attempting to regain your composure. "You're all acting like a bunch of-"
"It looks like our sarad is finally blossoming," Crosshair mocked, his voice laced with amusement.
Unable to take another word from him, you shoved past Tech to lunge on Crosshair, whose scowl was now a shit eating smirk. “I’ll wipe that smug-”
Hunter jumped in to hold you back. “Back off, Cross.” You were still grabbing for Crosshair when Hunter’s firm grip on your waist registered with you. You stiffened as Hunter detangled your arms from his shoulder and pulled you aside. He turned to you and surprised you by gently cupped your cheek. “Listen, we’re not trying to upset you.”
You were too aware of all the places your bodies had just touched - where his hands had been. It was all too much and with his hand on your face you simply couldn’t move.
The unexpected closeness and the warmth of his touch left you momentarily stunned, struggling to process the flood of sensations. With an effort to maintain your composure, you pulled away from Hunter's touch, grabbing your gear tightly. But before you could make your escape, Wrecker wrapped you in his arms and wrung you off your feet. “Aw, don’t be mad, we were just worried!” All you could focus on was the size of his hands and how nice his arms felt. When he dropped you, you just stood hunched over with a death grip on your sleeping pack.
The way you just stood at the mouth of the ship wide eyed and huffing, you probably looked like a deranged blurg. You felt deranged. In mere minutes you’d gone from composed to weak kneed simply from a few touches and teases. Being the center of their attention in those minutes had lit something in you that was quickly getting out of control. You still couldn’t manage words when you took off down the Marauder’s ramp.
At once Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech looked back at Echo. Echo echoed the collective astonishment, his tone tinged with bewilderment. "I've never seen her act like that before."
Tech, ever the analyzer, observed the physical signs of your distress with keen interest. He looked down at the hand he'd placed on your chest. "Her heart rate and temperature were elevated," he noted, his analytical nature kicking in. "Her coloring was..." He paused, searching for the right word, "...unexpectedly vibrant." Tech was quick to record his observations, whether mentally or digitally, finding your behavior to be a fascinating new discovery.
"Intriguing," Tech mused, adjusting his glasses with a confident shrug. "Her conduct with us doesn't align with her interactions with her former squadron. This divergence suggests a remarkably positive correlation." His conclusion was delivered with a note of excitement, indicative of his realization of the significance of your reaction. "And I am seldom wrong."
Each member of the Bad Batch absorbed Tech's assessment in their own way, contemplating the implications of your behavior.
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When it was time to part ways with the 501st, you made your good-byes. The Batch weren’t much for good-byes, aside from Echo giving an extra farewell to Rex, they watched on from the mouth of the Marauder. You didn’t know when, or if, you’d see them again so you were saying good-bye to each clone.
Jesse sauntered over to the Batch as you engaged in one last round of roughhousing with Fives. He glanced at you, then at the Batch. An obvious jab that didn't fail to elicit a snarl from Crosshair. “Looks like she's clinging to her ‘regs’ a bit too tightly,” he remarked, his tone laced with thinly veiled mockery. Crosshair's lip curled in response, a silent warning brewing beneath his steely exterior. “Maybe it's time she remembers where she belongs.”
“Ay! Sarad!” Wrecker’s voice boomed out suddenly, your head immediately snapping to attention. “You comin’ or what?”
Tech, with a slight adjustment to his goggles, couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of your embarrassment—the faint flush creeping up your cheeks, the nervous smile that flickered across your lips. It was a sight that stirred something in his usually analytical mind. “Looks like she's right where she belongs,” he remarked softly, a rare hint of sentimentality in his tone.
Jesse let out a huff of resignation. “I suppose so. Just make sure you take care of her,” he muttered before slipping away.
As Wrecker slung his arm around your shoulders, nearly toppling you over, you hesitated for a moment. But instead of pulling away, you returned the gesture with a small hip bump, a silent olive branch. This is really going to take some getting used to.
Hunter, helmet tucked under his arm, stepped forward. “If you ever decide you want to go back to the 501st... we'd understand,” he offered, his tone tinged with sincerity.
You shook your head with a laugh, stepping out of Wrecker’s embrace. Playfully knocking an elbow into Hunter’s side, you grinned. “You think I’d trade you guys for the 501st? Not a chance,” you replied, your words carrying a hint of affection.
“Oh, spare us the sentimentality,” Crosshair interjected dryly, though the faint twitch of his lip betrayed a hint of amusement.
As you stood among the Batch, you laughed to yourself. This is going to be fun.
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trapezequeen · 9 months
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Crosshair Smiling in Every Episode -> The Solitary Clone (2x3)
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stars-n-spice · 9 months
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Clone Shorts!!
Alright, since the survey showed that ya’ll are interested in purchasing a pair of the clone shorts, I went ahead and started to work on making the shop! I had family over and we were doing some traveling and shit, so I wasn’t able to work on it as much as I wanted to so I wasn’t able to put together a response to the poll until recently. 
And since I want to make sure that the shorts are as much to your liking as possible, I created a survey to collect data on what the majority would like because there’s things like the back font or pricing that I need to figure out. 
Also the printing company that I will be using has a specific way of creating shorts, so they won’t look exactly like the designs I originally made (as in they don’t have a way to make the shorts with the color on the lining). Just thought I’d give you a heads up!
They look like this, if you are curious! The website I'm using to design these doesn't have much choices for shorts and I'm only able to one kind of color, but at least they've got pockets!
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So if you’re interested in a pair, please fill out this form! (There are like 4 questions, I promise it’s super short).
Also please reblog so that it gets out to as many people as possible, thank you! :D
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cc1010fox · 5 months
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Rex: That number is your kill count? Fox: Roughly. Cody: I wasn't...expecting that to be honest... Wolffe: He's lying. Look, he wrote a number above it first, then crossed it out. That's the truth. Fox: No, that's the literal kill count. Cody: ... Rex: ... Wolffe: ... Fox: They were alive before we crossed paths. Rex: Oh...Most of our kills are-- Cody: Droids... Wolffe: I don't--How!? Fox: ...Why do you think I have so many awards? Wolffe: You...work hard? Fox: Doing what? Wolffe: Whatever the chancellor tells you to do. Fox: ... Cody: You protect the Senate. Fox: Coruscant. Rex: What? Fox: My duties extend beyond the Senate. I protect Coruscant. Wolffe: Ok, you protect Coruscant. Fox: ...From? Wolffe: Seppies? Fox: That's...part of it. Rex: ... Cody: ... Fox, popping his tongue against the roof of his mouth: Let me lay it out for you three. Fox: While you're out there sniping heads off of comedic relief training dummies, I have to deal with living, breathing, thinking beings. The living and breathing should make them easier to take down, but the thinking makes them unpredictable. I have to account for their individual beliefs, their morals...their sense of honor...all of which throw logic out of the window. It's not easy to land a droid army on Coruscant, so I don't get the pleasure of predictability too often. Rex: ... Fox: Instead, I have to deal with the citizens of this planet, too many of which don't want us here. They shout at us, abuse us, and have even started a market for us. You know...the skin and organ market. Yes and no. Yes, they have actually harvested our skin. No, I don't mean literal skin when I say skin market. Think collars and chains. How many times have you stood between a threat and the people you're duty bound to protect knowing at least one of those people have spat on your men, attacked them, used them like toys, or captured and sold them? My only comfort is knowing I can turn on them the second they're labeled a traitor to the Republic. And I can pick the worst of them off when there are no witnesses. Cody: ...That's-- Fox: On top of that, I have encountered creatures of nightmares because they just dwell in the bowels of this rotting planet or some pieces of garbage brought them here to sell. If you thought I was protected against watching my men get eaten by a wampa, you are sorely mistaken. Although it was the nexu that kept me up at night. For weeks. Who buys those things? Seriously...At least I put some of them down, but who knows how many they sold? Wolffe: ... Fox: The worst creatures are the ones I can't add to my kill count, though. The absolute worst is Chancellor Palpatine. He doesn't know what my job is and assigns me to literally every job in the Coruscant Guard. I have to do it personally. I'm the boss of the people who are supposed to do those jobs. He is the sole reason I will only sleep when I am dead. Fox: The second worst is 99% of the senators. Entitled, egotistical pricks. I would rather be distributed to desperate families looking for organs than catch the eye of any senator. Thire has to remember which ones show a little too much interest in the clones because we are at their mercy. He can't allow a shiny anywhere near them. If a Coruscanti attacks a clone, it's considered damaging government property, making them a criminal. If a senator attacks a clone, it's considered You better do what is best for the Republic and shut your kriffing mouth. Because treating a clone like a complimentary gift isn't betraying the Republic. Risking one of the Republic's delicate alliances is. Cody: Force, Fox... Fox: I deal with all of that while maintaining an impressive record of mission successes. That is why I have so many awards. Wolffe: ...You have awards, but do you want a hug? Fox: Desperately. All day. Every day.
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starjedi86 · 2 months
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Taking care of you
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Summary: Hunter blames himself for not being able to protect you.
Pairing: Hunter x female reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 965
Authors Note: In honor of season 3 airing today, here’s my first fic for the bad batch. I hope you enjoy it!
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The air in the small medical bay was heavy with tension as Hunter anxiously awaited news about you, his girlfriend and the mechanic of his squad. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, his mind consumed by guilt over the accident that had left you injured.
You and the rest of the members of Clone Force 99 were on a mission, as usual during the Clone Wars. However, this time, due to the lack of communication, the battle intensified, leading to your fall from a great height.
In the shock of the situation, you weren’t sure if your ankle was broken. During the rest of the battle, Hunter helped you and kept you safe. When it ended, you were in so much pain that Hunter thought it was best to return to Coruscant for a medical check with all the necessary equipment.
As the leader of his squad, he felt the weight of responsibility bearing down on him, blaming himself for not having protected you better.
He was lost in his thoughts when the medical staff informed him that you were awake and he could visit your room. Without hesitation he walked inside.
The door slid open, and there you were, lying in a bed with a reassuring smile. Despite the bandage wrapped around your ankle, your eyes sparkled with warmth as you met his gaze. “Hey,” you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of reassurance and warmth. You knew him so well that you already knew he was blaming himself, so you did your best to reassured him. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll be okay.”
Hunter’s shoulders dropped with relief at the sight of you, but the guilt still weighed on him. “I can’t help but feel responsible for this,” he confessed, his voice heavy with regret. “I should’ve been more careful, should have protected you better.”
But you shook your head, your expression softening with understanding. “Hey, accidents happen,” you reassured him, your tone gentle. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. What matters is that we’re a team, and we look out for each other.“
Hunter’s heart swelled with gratitude at your words, he couldn’t help but love you even more. Despite the chaos of war, he knew that you were one of the few people who could comfort him and make him better. Stepping closer to your bed, he reached out to gently hold your hand and intertwine your fingers with his, his touch was gentle as if you were a delicate flower.
“Thank you, cyare,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”
You smiled, squeezing his hand in return. “You don’t have to thank me love.“ you whispered back, your eyes filled with love towards him.
As you stayed there, Hunter couldn't resist any longer. He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a gentle kiss, pouring all of his love and affection into the gentle touch.
When you finally pulled away, your eyes met, filled with love for each other. "I won't let anything happen to you, cyare," Hunter promised, his voice filled with determination.
"I know," you replied, your voice filled with trust and love towards him.
You stayed there, chatting about various things as you waited to be discharged. When the doctors informed you that you were ready to leave, Hunter offered to take you to your apartment. The journey was quiet but relaxing after all the stress you both had.
Upon arriving at your apartment, Hunter gently guided you to your bed, propping your foot up on a pillow and ensuring your comfort before taking a seat beside you. You could see a mixture of concern and affection in his expression.
“Is there anything else you need? Pain medication, water, food, maybe a blanket?” he asked, his voice affectionate toward you.
You shook your head, managing a small smile on your lips. “I’m okay for now, love. I’m glad to be back home, at least for a couple of days.” you replied softly, grateful for his caring attitude.
Hunter nodded, but the worry still lingered in his eyes. “I’m just glad you’re safe, cyare” he admitted. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”
Reaching out, you gentle grabbed his hand and caressed the back of it with your thumb. “I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him, your touch offering a sense of calm. “We’ll get through this, honey, just like always.”
Hunter’s gaze softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
You returned his smile, grateful to have him by your side. “Always together, remember?”
Feeling a wave of gratitude, love and affection toward you, Hunter leaned in, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, being careful with your injured ankle. You didn’t hesitate to lean your head into his chest, feeling the soft sound of his heartbeat.
Pulling back slightly, Hunter looked at you, a soft smile curving around his lips. Without hesitation, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling you closer, relieved to have you by his side.
As you cuddled together, you intertwined your fingers with his, feeling his soft and gentle touch over your palm. “I’m lucky to have you.” you whispered, your voice filled with admiration toward him.
Hunter’s eyes softened at your words, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “And I’m lucky to have you,” he replied sincerely, his voice filled with warmth.
As you looked at each other, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Hunter gently placed his forehead against yours. You’ll definitely always be there for him and he for you.
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boggsart · 8 days
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Another down, two more to go 😮‍💨
Sorry if most of the people who asked to be tagged are only interested in the animations, yet still get tagged, but i just want yall to experience the whole package i guess haha. But i'm trying my hardest to deliver, but at the same time i also gotta get the posters over with as soon as possible lol. But they're coming!!!
You can check out the models from a closer look here
Clone Force 99
501st
Coruscant Guard
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taglist: @callsign-denmark@techwrecker@dahscribbler@lightspringrain@dreamsandrosies@brainless-tin-box@thecoffeelorian @luzfeather @burningfieldof-clover@99tech99 @theglitterdark @fangirl-goes-nova
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anxiouspineapple99 · 5 months
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Title Prompt: I'll drop a few below and you can choose which one inspired the most. I'll let you decide if it's SFW or NSFW and write whatever you'd like.
- Little Lies & Brown Eyes
- Under a Bright Coruscant Sky
- What Happens on Nar Shadda...
No Rules, No Requirements, and No Rush!
Little Lies & Brown Eyes
Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader
Summary: A game of “Two Truths, and a Lie” turns spicy!
Warnings: MINORS DNI. Recreational drinking, fingering, unprotected PiV, oral (f receiving), cxm eating, Dom!Tech, praise kink
Word Count: 1972
A/N: The semester is over! Which means I’m kicking off the break with smut. This is porn with a smattering of feelings. It’s filthy. I’m unsure what possessed me when I wrote this because I read it back and made myself blush. Thank you for the prompt @523rdrebel and thank you for being so patient while I took literal months to answer lol
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Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair had made their own plans for this bout of shore leave which left you and Tech alone to enjoy each other’s company, something that you were quite delighted about if you did say so yourself. You found the tall bespectacled clone of Clone Force 99 to be unbelievably handsome and his mannerisms positively endearing. You loved when he asked you to help him tinker on the Marauder or chose you to share all of his new findings. Most of all you loved being the focus of his attention when it was just the two of you.
The evening started like the handful of others had in the past, the two of you tinkering under the console of the Marauder. You handed him tools as he talked about anything and everything on his mind.
Now, Tech wasn’t one for lying. He never saw any point in it. According to him it was a ‘superfluous detour toward the inevitable truth that was bound to emerge anyway. The truth is simply faster.’ You always appreciated that about him. His bluntness was refreshing (albeit sometimes harsh) and you valued that you could always count on it. Which was why two truths and a lie seemed like the perfect game.
You sat across from him, rosy cheeked, giggling. Breathtaking as always, he’d thought to himself. You weren’t drunk yet, but you were certainly teetering on the edge. The truths and lies started off benignly, mostly about favorite foods or hobbies.
“Alright, it’s your turn. Two truths and a lie, please. I am quite good at this game so make this one a challenge!” Tech puffed his chest out proudly before adjusting his goggles. You couldn’t fight your silly smile before you continued.
“Okay! So… I find you attractive. I am allergic to blumfruit. And… my childhood tooka was named Cuddles!” You leaned back.
Tech rested an elbow on his knee, “Well that is easy. Clearly the lie is that you find me attractive.”
You leaned in, nearly nose to nose with him, a playful smile crossed your lips as you answered, “Nope,” with an emphasized pop of the ‘p’. “I am not allergic to blumfruit.”
“Fascinating…”
You leaned back in the copilot seat, “Your turn, Tech!”
His leg bounced as he rested his chin in his hand.
His fingers tapped on his knee as he began to answer, “Very well. Wrecker’s snoring is the reason I sleep in the cockpit most of the time.” He paused, his eyes darkening behind his goggles. “I prefer wine to spotchka.” With his final statement he leaned in, narrowing his eyes, “And I should very much like to kiss you.”
You suddenly felt as sober as a judge.
“Wh-what?”
“Shall I repeat my statements? Perhaps I should enunciate more,” he rasped a tinge of lust colored his voice.
Your stomach turned. He couldn’t possibly…could he?
“N-no, ahh, wanting to kiss me. That’s the lie.”
He leaned into the backrest of the pilot seat, his back the straightest you’d ever seen it.
“Incorrect. I have no preference for alcoholic beverages. I will drink just about anything.”
You gulped, your eyes traveled to his lips. You clenched your thighs to quell the ever present arousal you felt in his presence. You watched wide eyed as he rose from his seat and filled the space between you. He caged you into the copilot seat, his brown eyes roving over you. He softly took your chin between his gloved thumb and index finger lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and reserved, the opposite of his burning eyes.
He pulled back only slightly and tutted, “All those little lies, mesh’la. Did you really need those to tell me how you felt?”
An airy laugh huffed from your chest. “You’re one to talk.”
“I simply had not yet found an opportune moment,” he crooned against your lips. “Stand up.”
The command startled you at first. You were unaccustomed to Tech being so assertive.
“Mesh’la. I said stand. Up.”
Wordlessly, Tech guided you to your feet and turned your back to the console.
“You’ll need to use your words, darling. I need to know you want this too,” he growled into your ear sending chills down your spine and soaking your panties.
“Maker, yes please, Tech,” you whined as he trailed kisses from your neck to your collarbone.
“Mmm… good girl,” he sighed as he ran two gloved fingers along the outline of your breasts. Those two fingers ghosted down your sternum, along your stomach, and to the hem of your skirt. Meanwhile your own hands were exploring the edges of his armor.
He dragged those same two fingers up the inside of your thigh and pressed them to the soaked cloth covering your sex. You whined at his touch, desperately wanting him inside you.
“Oh dear,” he chuckled, removing his hand, “you’ve soaked my glove, mesh’la. Well, it only seems fair that you remove it for me.”
You made to reach for his gloved fingers when he held them to your lips and scolded, “Ah, with your mouth. Open.”
You opened your mouth and he slotted his fingers inside, almost choking you and then slowly dragged them back along your tongue ensuring you tasted yourself on his fingers. He paused long enough for you to bite down on the tip of the glove to pull it off. He then slid your panties off, tucking them in one of the many pouches on his utility belt.
His gloveless hand returned to your soaked folds, toying first with your clit and then sliding one exquisite digit inside of you. You bucked your hips in response, moaning loudly.
“I have wanted this for so long, cyare. To have you on the console of my ship, screaming my name. You will scream my name for me won’t you, good girl.” His tone was clear, that was an order. Not a question.
“Anything you want, sir.” You gasped through waves of pleasure as Tech swirled and thrust his finger, quickly learning which patterns elicited the greatest reactions.
The emphasis of that word unleashed an utterly primal side of Tech you’d never seen. His mouth crashed into yours, his tongue eagerly seeking entrance as he pressed his body to yours. He inserted a second finger inside you, your walls twitching in response to the stretch. He easily reached the delicate spot inside of you, pressing and stroking rhythmically, pushing you rapidly to the precipice.
“What a good girl you are. Who do you belong to?”
His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, biting and sucking leaving his marks. His brothers were going to come back and know exactly who you belonged to.
“Y-you Tech! I belong to you!”
And just as you promised him, you screamed his name as you crested your peak, your legs quaking with the intensity of your release.
He pressed his cheek to yours, “Are you ready, ner sarad? Are you ready for me to fill you up?”
You leaned into his touch, “Please, sir. I need to feel you inside of me, I feel so empty without you.”
A growl rumbled deep in his chest as he freed his throbbing cock already soaked with precum from his blacks in one swift movement. You were in awe of how long he was and hoped the next time you did this you could suck him off until he couldn’t walk the next day. Your fantasy of Tech fucking your mouth was cut short as he lifted you with ease and laid you on the console. He slid his cock within the walls of your pussy slowly and gently allowing you both to relish the bliss you were experiencing. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he caged you in. You wrapped your arms around his neck and whined into his ear as he bottomed out inside you, stretching you perfectly.
“So perfect, cyare. If I didn't know better I would think you had been made just for me,” he cooed, the sweet praise making your heart flutter.
“Please fuck me, Tech.” You gasped, the plea falling from your lips with agonizing desperation. You needed him to move, to rock his hips into yours and fill you to the brim.
“With pleasure,” he cooed with a smile and a soft kiss to your forehead.
He slowly pulled back and pushed back in, his eyes locked on yours gauging your reaction. Once. Twice. Again and again his thrusts were steadfast and precise. You threw your head back, moaning his name with each thrust.
“Mine,” he growled as his fingers grasped the back of your neck and your hips with nearly painful intensity.
Gradually he increased his pace, intentionally grinding his pelvis into your sensitive bud with each calculated movement. He grunted soft words of adoration and praise, still licking and biting at every inch of exposed skin. And with each thrust you felt him push you closer to your second release. You scraped your nails along his scalp as you cried his name with your volume matching the intensity of your pleasure. He followed suit with a shuddering sigh into your neck.
He pressed his chest to yours, dusting soft doting kisses along your neck, cheeks, and forehead. Your legs remained locked around his waist as he slowly softened inside of you.
He carried you to his rack, laying you down gently, pausing for a moment and smiling as if admiring a piece of art.
“Tech?” You felt exposed despite still being mostly clothed.
“Hm? Ah. My apologies cyare. You are just a divine creature and I am taking in your radiance.” He sat by your feet, running his hand up your thigh. “Now, why don’t you take the rest of your clothing off? I wish to worship you properly.”
You’d never shimmied out of clothing so quickly. You fought the urge to cover up.
He stared at your pussy still dripping with cum, both yours and his, hungrily.
“This,” he growled, lust soaking his words. “Should do nicely.”
He needed to taste you, the perfectly unique combination of you and him. He lifted your knees over his shoulders, a growl rumbling in his chest as his eyes never left your drenched sex. He pushed his goggles up onto his forehead before trailing open mouthed kisses up your thigh. His lithe fingers squeezed your thighs before licking a strip up your folds. You keened beneath him, arousal burning deep within you once more.
He sucked lightly on your clit, flicking his tongue across it sporadically until you were a writhing, mewling mess. You could feel his smile widening as his tongue slowly crept closer to your entrance. All at once he thrust his tongue inside you, his own groans rumbling into you, pushing you closer to climax once more. He devoured you, kissing, licking, sucking and biting at every inch of you. And once he was satisfied, he pressed his thumb to your clit rubbing soft circles as he continued thrust his tongue inside you. He worked you until your legs were shaking and you chanted his name like it was the only word you knew.
He looked up at you from between your thighs, a smirk adorned his lips as he pulled his goggles back into place. “That was…satisfactory?”
You gawked. “Exemplary, actually.”
He nodded, a hint of arrogance flashing in his eyes. He reached into his footlocker, pulling out a towel and began to clean you up.
“The others will be returning soon. You should get dressed. I’d prefer this,” he gestured toward your nude form, “be only for me.”
A soft giggle escaped your lips as you leaned in, kissing him softly. “It is. Only for you.”
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