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vodika-vibes · 6 months

Note

May I request the „I want you“ „then come and get me“ for delta squad’s Boss? Maybe while he’s doing some late night sparring with the reader? And perhaps smutty?🫣

💖💖

Training Session

Summary: You've had a bad day, and decide to work out your frustrations on a punching bag, Boss, however, has different plans.

Pairing: Clone Commando Boss x F!Reader

Word Count: 2164

Warnings: Smut. Smut with plot.

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: So, Wookieepedia says that Boss is "Taciturn", which I took to mean quiet and intense. I really want to write a letter to the Star Wars people and ask for a detailed personality profiles of all the clones. Just. "Dear sir or madam, please write a complete personality profile for all 2 million clones. Yes. All of them. Thanks." Anyway! This isn't so much sparring, because I wasn't sure how to write that, but I hope this is okay?

Divider by Saradika

Your fist slams into the bag over and over again. You’re long past the point of trying to improve your form, right now you’re just trying to exhaust yourself to the point where you can sleep without nightmares.

A tall order, you’re sure, but anything is better than laying in bed and watching the men you serve with die over and over again in your dreams. Your nightmare flashes to the front of your mind again, and you grit your teeth as you slam your bare fist into the bag even harder than before.

If you cared, you would have grabbed a glove from the box against the wall…or even grabbed some tape to protect your knuckles. But you don’t care. Can’t bring yourself to care.

At this point you’re probably going to break your fist…and you can’t help but wonder if that will help you feel a little better.

You go to slam your fist into the bag again, only for a strong arm to shoot past your head to tightly grip your wrist, holding you still. “You’re going to break your hand.”

Boss’ voice is low and stern, and while normally you would apologize for being in his way, and existing in his space, because the gym is his space, tonight you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

You try to tug your wrist free, and fail spectacularly, “Do you always manhandle people, sir?” You ask through gritted teeth.

“I do when they’re acting recklessly.” He counters.

You hiss under your breath, and use your long, almost forgotten, self-defense lessons to try and twist out of his grip.

All you manage, though, is turning your body so you’re face to chest with Boss. You glower up at him, and he arches an unimpressed brow, “Nice try.”

“Well, not everyone can have superior fighting abilities.” You snap as you uselessly try to try your wrist from his grip.

“You’re a Doctor, you don’t need superior fighting abilities,” He mocks your words with an inflection that you’ve never heard from him before.

“I should still know how to defend myself,” You snap, without thinking about it.

“Can you?” Boss asks.

“Can I what?”

“Defend yourself.”

Your face burns with anger and embarrassment, and you turn your head away from him, “I do just fine.” You retort, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

His gaze is even, and you bristle under his gaze. Stupid judgemental genetically perfect man. With his stupid perfect hair, and his stupid perfect face and his stupid perfect voice-

“Punch my hand.” Boss’ comment interrupts your mental triade, and you blink up at him, genuinely startled, not even noticing that he released your wrist.

“What?”

“Punch my hand.” He repeats, his gaze serious.

“I am not punching you!” You blurt, eyes wide.

His eyes narrow, “What are you going to do if clankers get by me or my brothers and make it to your medical tent?”

“I’ll…die. Probably.” You retort honestly.

He scowls, “Unacceptable. Punch my hand.”

“Why?!”

“I want to see your form. Just do it.”

“I…you…that’s…” You throw your hands up, “Ugh! You’re such a…a guy sometimes!” You snap, “Fine! Fine. I’ll punch your hand.”

You do as you said you would, though it’s not anywhere close to being a proper punch. And Boss recognizes that. He closes his hand around your fist, “Try again. And do it properly this time. You can’t hurt me.”

“You know, when you say stuff like that it makes me want to hurt you,” You grouse.

“Good. Maybe you’ll take this seriously.”

“Oh, come on! Why do you even care?”

“You’re a medic. My medic. And you’re my responsibility. But I won’t always be there to protect you. So you have to learn to defend yourself.” Boss replies, his voice short and matter of fact.

“Okay, so, first of all. I’m not your medic-”

“Yes,” He interrupts, “You are.” Boss’ gaze is intense, and your words die on your tongue, “Try again.”

This time, when you slam your fist into the palm of his hand, it’s a proper punch, though it’s a little clumsy. In your defense, you’ve not taken a self defense class since you were a child.

“Better. Again,”

You sigh and punch his fist again, and again, and again.

And then, when you’re about to punch his fist again, “Why are you awake, anyway?”

You stumble in surprise, your fist glancing off the palm of his hand and hitting his chest, “I…sorry.”

“You’re fine.” Boss says quietly.

You hesitate, and shrug, “It’s dumb.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I couldn’t sleep. I kept going over everything that happened today and what I did wrong, and…” You shrug, “Sometimes I think you all would be better off with a better doctor.” You punch his fist again.

“You saved half of my brothers today.” Boss points out, closing his hand around your fist to make you look at him. “They’d be dead if you weren’t here.”

“Or maybe more of them would be unhurt with a different doctor.” You point out.

“No. I don’t agree.” Boss says, opening his hand as you pull your fist back, “You know, I chose you, right?”

“Chose me?” You ask.

“Of all of the natborn medics in the GAR, I picked you.” Boss confirms, “Because of your skillset, because you refused to be cowed when one of my brothers yelled at you, because you were polite in spite of us being clones.”

“You’re still men.” You say with a sigh, “Everyone else is just dumb.”

His lips quirk up until a small, amused, smile. “Maybe.”

“Not maybe, definitely.” You shift your weight onto your heels, “I didn’t know that you picked me.”

“I did. And I keep picking you. Everytime we get the option for another doctor.”

“I just don’t get why.”

He folds his hands behind his back, “It’s easy.” You’re pretty sure he stands at attention when he’s trying to mask his emotions, and it works really well, “I want you.”

“Like…in what way?” You ask as your stomach flips nervously.

“In every way that matters. Romantically. Sexually. Platonically. All of them.” Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn’t that. “But I’ll go at your pace.” He continues, “And if you’re not interested at all, then that’s fine too.”

“You want me.” Your voice is low, thoughtfully.

“Yes.” He doesn’t even sound remotely embarrassed about it.

“Okay then,” You reply slowly, “Okay.” You flash a small, impish, smile, “Then come and get me.”

His hands fall to his sides, and he smiles, something slow and predatory, and you feel arousal shoot down to your very core.

He advances on you, and you lightly hook your fingers around the collar of his shirt and you walk backwards until your back hits the wall. Boss cages you between his arms and his lips crash against yours, his kiss both hot and demanding.

You moan into the kiss, and your hands slide down his chest to slip under the top of his blacks. His muscles jump under your touch, and you know, immediately, that you want more.

So you tug on the hem of his shirt, and pull away from his kiss just enough to speak, “Off.” You order, or plead. You’re not sure.

Boss groans, low and deep, in the back of his throat, “Yes, ma’am.” He replies, his voice a low rumble that you feel all the way down to your bones. He pulls away long enough to grab the collar of his shirt, and he pulls it off in one smooth motion.

Your hands are immediately on his chest, smoothing over hard planes, and lightly tracing the raised skin of the scars dotting his body. He melts into your touch, and his lips find purchase against your jaw, your throat, your neck, your shoulder-

Boss’ hands burn a trail down your sides, up your back, and then back down over your plush rear. And then, to your surprise, he sinks to his knees in front of you. He looks up at you as he slowly slides your leggings down your legs.

You set your hands on his shoulders for balance as you step out of the clingy material, and you shiver as he kisses your hip and then lazily trails his tongue down your outer thigh. And you can feel yourself getting more and more wet with every passing second.

“Boss…” his name falls from your lips in a soft moan, more of a sigh than actual words.

You feel him smile against your leg, and then he lifts one of your legs and sets it on his shoulder, and he turns his head to press a soothing kiss against your inner thigh. And then he turns his gaze to the junction of your thighs, and he releases a deep sigh of pleasure.

His hand slides up the back of your leg and you jolt when you feel his finger pressed against you through your underwear. “You’re so wet,” Boss murmurs as he leans in and presses a light, lingering kiss over the wet spot on your underwear, “Is all this for me?”

You card your fingers through his hair, “Wasn’t that the point?” You ask, slightly breathlessly.

Boss’ gaze meets yours, a slightly amused smile lifting his lips, and then he turns his head slightly and kisses your inner thigh again. “Tell me, cyare.” He murmurs against your skin, as his gaze drifts back to your core, “Are you overly fond of these?” He asks as he gestures to the underwear shielding you from his gaze.

“Not especially,” You reply immediately.

“Good.” He grips the material in one hand, and before you realize what he’s planning, he’s managed to tear it off of your body.

Boss drops the shredded cloth to the side, and he presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to your thigh, before he moves and drags his tongue along your wet slit.

Your grip in his hair tightens as you moan, and he groans in return. “You taste amazing,” Boss breathes out as he pulls away for a moment to press a light kiss against your hip, and then he dives right back in, his lips finding the little bundle of nerves that has you seeing stars.

He slides a single finger to your opening, and you release a louder moan. His fingers are so much longer and thicker than your own, and so, when he curls his finger and gives a particularly hard suck on your clit, your legs nearly buckle.

Boss chuckles and he pulls away for a moment to look up at you, “Sensitive, cyare?”

“It’s been awhile.” You admit, your voice slightly breathless. And when he eases a second finger to join the first one, your hips jerk towards him.

He smirks at you, lazily fucking you with his fingers, “You’re so tight, cyare.” Boss says, his voice low, “I have to prep you for my cock.”

You shiver and moan softly.

He twists his hand slightly and flicks his thumb over your clit, pulling a louder moan from you, and then he carefully, very carefully, eases in a third finger to join the first two, and you clench down on his fingers.

He curls his fingers as he fucks you, and his thumb lazily circles your clit in time with his thrusts, and it’s almost too much. You can feel the coil in your abdomen tightening, and you know you just need a little more. “B-Boss, please.” You plead breathlessly.

“Shh. I have you, cyare.” He kisses your hip again, “Going to make you feel amazing,” Boss promises, “And then I’m going to ruin other men for you.” His fingers start moving even faster.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, and he grins sharply.

“Cum for me, mesh’la.” He orders, his voice soft but unyielding.

“I-”

“Now.”

And you’re helpless to do anything but obey as he plays your body like a fine tuned instrument. The coil snaps, and you fall apart on his fingers, with the sound of his voice, low and soothing, murmuring praises up to you.

When you come back to yourself, you’re sitting on your knees, and you’re still trembling slightly. Warm hands smooth down your back and sides, and you blink hazily at Boss, “Are you back with me now?” He asks, quietly.

You nod once.

“Use your words, cyare.” His voice is still so gentle, “Are you okay?”

“M’okay.” You mumble.

“Good.” his fingers ghost against your jaw, and then he sets your leggings in your lap, “Put these back on.”

You stare at the pants, and then at him bewildered, “But…you didn’t-?”

He laughs and leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t worry, cyare. I’m not anywhere close to being done with you.” He murmurs, “But I’m not fucking you in here. So get dressed.”

You grin up at him, delight running through you once again. “Yes sir.”

#star wars #tcw #clone commando boss x reader #boss x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #18+ fic #answered asks #clone thirsting

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edgeofn1ght · 2 days

Text

all you conceal, let out: ch. 1

After the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, in his grief, takes off on a mission half-cocked to find a lost holocron on Jedha. The next thing he knows, he's waking up injured on a planet he's never seen before, surrounded by calm and an unsettling quiet. Then, after passing out again, he wakes up in a strange home, patched, clean, and safe. And his savior is someone he loved who he didn't think he'd ever see again. Will he be able to get back to his own universe, and does he even want to?

i finally managed to fill another square on my @obikin-events bingo card well after the event was over 🫡 (i tried my best to finish it before it ended, but oh well)

alternate universe travel • obikin • 5.1k words • read on ao3 instead

Anakin knew his mission wouldn't be easy. He was warned against going, specifically going alone, but he insisted on taking it anyway. He needed to be away from the Temple, from everything that reminded him –

“You still need time to mourn!” His own padawan had cried out in the hangar as he strode away from her, his responsibilities, and any bit of sanity he was still holding onto.

Death is a natural part of life, he thought bitterly as he jogged up the Twilight's ramp, followed quickly by Artoo. I guess you forgot that lesson.

If he had bothered to turn back, he would have seen Ahsoka's deeply troubled countenance, but he wasn't concerned about that. He had a mission to carry out – one that had been important to Obi-Wan. And he would see it through.

But as Anakin slowly lifted his head out of the dirt, he was no longer so sure he could see it through. He didn't even know where he was anymore. His head throbbed as he became aware of the blood rushing through his ears, drowning out all other noise. Not that there was much to hear anyway – no blaster fire, no clankers yelling in their tinny, robotic voices, no shouting clone troopers, no explosions… nothing.

As he became more aware of his being, his whole body ached, hurting so much he wouldn't have been surprised if every single bone in his body was broken. If Obi-Wan were here and could read his thoughts, he would have undoubtedly told him he was being dramatic.

‘Get up, my young padawan, you’re not so old yet.’ He heard his master’s voice so clearly, just as if he was standing right next to him, looking down at his old padawan with a wry grin and his hands on his hips. He frowned – wishing Obi-Wan was here wouldn’t make him appear, no matter how much Anakin wanted it. He turned his head left then right, searching for his ship, for Artoo… for anyone or anything, but he was completely alone.

Anakin gingerly pushed himself up and made it halfway before his arms gave out and he dropped back into the muck with a disgusting squelch . And that, too, was different. Last he could recall, he had been on Jedha, surrounded by orange dust and sand as far as the eye could see, even inside the old temple ruins. But as he looked around now, there was nothing but vibrant multicolored trees, green grass, and a brilliant blue sky.

So where the hell was here?

Anakin really had no chance to think about his location or predicament because, unsurprisingly, he had passed out again. He didn’t know how long he was out, but when he awoke, he was still on the mystery planet and dusk was settling on the land. It was just as quiet as before, but now the silence was punctuated by the sound of night coming to life.

He always found the night strangely unsettling when wasn't at home. Coruscant’s night never deviated from its day – the ecumenopolis was a constant hum of traffic and pulse of billions of lifeforms. And Tatooine’s night had been… well, when it wasn’t eerily silent, it was a howling sandstorm or some other form of danger such as raiders, Hutt cartels, or baying creatures that could eat you whole.

He’d forgotten the true sound of silence, the feeling of it. The way it crept into your bones, enveloped your senses, and made you feel uneasy and cold. Not long after the war began, they all became quickly accustomed to being constantly surrounded by dozens, sometimes hundreds of other beings all the time, whether on board a star destroyer or in battle. Then add to that, life on Coruscant, in the Temple, and pair it with his own constant loud thoughts, feelings, and anxieties, and he really couldn't remember the last time he'd experienced a true quiet like this. Had he ever?

Anakin summoned enough energy to roll over with a grunt. His face was covered in muck and dirt, he could feel it in the pull of his skin when he winced. His cloak was wet, but he still used the voluminous sleeves to wipe it away. All his clothes were wet as it turned out – not exactly soaked , but damp enough to be uncomfortable and annoying. He became more aware of every pain in his body – temples throbbing, joints aching, and most inconvenient of all, the sharp stab of pain in his side. It was most likely a fractured or bruised rib… he hoped anyway.

As he continued to lie supine in the grass, he took stock of the rest of his body, curling and straightening his fingers then rolling his arms across the dirt to test the movement. Next he tried wiggling his toes inside his boots then flexed his calves, and finally pulled up his legs to bend his knees. Nothing seemed broken. He finally pushed himself up until he was in a sitting position, swaying a bit as his vision swam.

Forgetting about all his physical aches, his gloved hand moved to his belt, searching for his communicator, but it was nowhere to be found. Then it flew to his left hip where his lightsaber usually sat, a comforting weight always at his side, but it wasn’t there either.

"Shiiiiit," Anakin whispered. He looked at the ground around him, blinking, his eyes straining to see anything at all in the grass in the low light. It could be anywhere. He would find it – he would – but he couldn’t focus right this second. He scrambled to stand but it was too much, too soon and he fell back into the dirt.

He groaned long and loud into the rapidly darkening night.

But then, he heard the most beautiful sound to his buzzing ears – the sound of help. Help was on its way in a beaten-up X-34 landspeeder, which sounded like the combustor of the axial compressor needed to be replaced. He’d never been so happy in his life to hear the low rumble of an engine that needed some serious maintenance, or more happy that he had not completely forgotten everything he knew.

A wave of dizziness and nausea came over him, but he leaned forward and stretched out his arm as the speeder rumbled closer. “Help?” He could barely muster the single-syllable word. Not that he could be heard over the noise of the engine anyway, but he had to try.

Then, unfortunately, he blacked out once again.

Anakin slowly came-to, aware of warmth, comfort, and a voice, calm and gentle, like home . He suddenly remembered being lifted, a hand on his cheek, his forehead, the cool night air then –

Nothing more.

For the third time in less than half a day, Anakin awoke from slumber. Except this one had been much more fitful than the others. He still ached, but at least he was no longer lying face down in mud in wet clothes. Instead, now he was lying on a sofa under a blanket, his head cradled in a soft pillow, and he was clean and comfortable. The thought was concerning, but he'd get to that later.

Golden sunlight filtered in through the room’s shades. It was certainly no longer night, and it seemed rather bright, but he had no idea what time it could possibly be. He squeezed his eyes tightly and tried to remember… He could recall nothing at all of how he got here – on the planet or in this room. He had been on Jedha with Artoo and a couple of troopers from 501st (who showed up at Ahsoka's insistence), combing through an old excavation site. It was the last-known location of an unknown holocron, apparently buried amongst the ruins, and looking for it had felt like searching for a single star in a nebula.

When the Jedi first learned of its existence (or ‘ potential existence’ rather, as Obi-Wan had insisted), neither he nor Obi-Wan had truly believed in the presence of such a holocron on the planet. Something like that would surely have been recovered long ago! Obi-Wan’s incredulity echoed in Anakin's head. But t hey were instructed to at least look, as it would have been rather foolish to allow something like that to languish untouched with the potential of falling into anyone’s hands. And if the rumor was true and they did find such a thing, they could study it. Incredulity aside, Obi-Wan wasn't very good at completely hiding his interest (or at least not to Anakin), and he had remarked several times on how he'd love to study it and learn all its secrets. Anakin had adored the way the older man’s eyes lit up just talking about it. He wouldn't have dreamed of ever telling his old master that.

Then he would never get a chance to. Obi-Wan became one with the Force, leaving Anakin behind forever, and he was forced to go on, to live the rest of his life without his best friend and master. It had been three months, and the wound was as raw and as fresh as the day Obi-Wan was taken from him. He couldn't find peace no matter what he did or who he talked to. They weren't Obi-Wan.

Master Kenobi’s loss was felt keenly by all the Jedi, but Anakin was sure he didn’t mean as much to them as he did to him. His master was gone and Anakin would never have peace again.

So Anakin had gone to Jedha on a half-cocked mission to find the holocron, because Obi-Wan had wanted to find it, and Obi-Wan wanted to study it, and that was a last wish Anakin could honor even though every fiber of his being cried out for the loss of the man he loved.

Perhaps the holocron held secrets to eternal life. Perhaps there was a way to see or speak to him again. Feeling delirious with the prospect, Anakin had run headlong into the temple ruins built inside a cave mouth of a large plateau, feeling as if he was getting close. The pull of the Force was strong, like a nexus of power. He remembered a thrumming and buzzing in his head then nothing at all after that.

And now he was in some house he didn't know, on a planet he didn't recognize.

He carefully stretched out with his senses and found that all was calm. He reached further looking for someone, anything , but didn’t get much beyond the general course of life on the planet. Then suddenly, on the edge of his consciousness, a single life form appeared, close… It was inside the house with him. Anakin should be on high alert, but he couldn’t find it within himself to be. Perhaps he would come back to the why later. Wherever he was, he felt safe and not in any danger. The life form felt calm, relaxed, and slightly amused. Then suddenly he heard a low humming, but not like the humming of the Force, but a living being softly humming a tune. It wasn’t in the room with him but it was close. Then it stopped.

"Ah, you're awake."

Anakin whipped his head in the direction of the voice. THAT VOICE. A voice he knew better than anyone else's. A voice he had heard most every day since he was nine years old, a voice he'd grown to love more than anyone else's. He twisted around to get a better look, hissing when his side and back protested, clearly still in no shape to move so quickly.

“Take it easy!” The voice warned.

He watched in disbelief as the source of the voice set a tray down on the small table in front of the sofa. As he took in the man before him, his chest constricted and tightened and his breathing shallowed. He stood on the precipice of a panic attack with no way to ward it off. Because here was Obi-Wan Kenobi in the flesh, standing in front of him, whole and alive .

He was older than Anakin knew him to be at the time of his death – by five years or so, maybe more. His hair was longer, not quite as long as it was right before the start of the war, but long enough so the ends curled around his ears and sat on the collar of his shirt. There were more strands of grey threaded throughout his hair and at his temples, more lines etched into his face, particularly around the eyes. His skin had taken on more of a golden hue than Anakin had ever seen – like he spent most of his time outside – which also meant more, darker freckles dotting his forehead, cheeks, and the bridge of his nose.

He was wearing a light colored work shirt with the buttons undone to mid-breastbone and the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His trousers were the color of rust and he wore tall, brown boots. The clothes hugged his strong figure as if they were tailor-made specifically for him. Anakin couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Obi-Wan in anything but his loose, cream-colored tunics, robes or under blacks and armor.

He looked like a man untouched by war, healthy and content. Anakin had forgotten that once Obi-Wan did look like that, but it was long ago. He stared, slack-jawed, as he thought of Obi-Wan’s pale face and lifeless, clear blue eyes as he held him in death. This was Obi-Wan as he could have been – should have been. Anakin's heart clenched in his chest.

"I brought you some breakfast," the man finally added, still hesitant and wary of what Anakin would do next.

Feeling panicked at the strange normality of it all, Anakin attempted to fully sit up so he could defend himself if needed, but he was still in quite a bit of pain. He grabbed his side and winced as the aching muscles in his core contracted. Then his fingers came in contact with a large bandage stuck to his left side.

"Careful now!" Obi-Wan rushed over to grab Anakin's arm and steady him. The touch was like a brand in his skin. He ripped his arm away and stood quickly, hitting his shin on the small table as he stumbled away from the strange Obi-Wan. He blindly reached again for where a lightsaber should be at his hip, only to find it still wasn't there.

Instead, Anakin brandished the knife he'd grabbed off the tray in his haste to distance himself from the imposter. "What kind of trick is this? Who are you?"

Not-Obi-Wan put his hands up in a half-hearted surrender. "I'm not really thrilled about being threatened in my own home. Even if it is with a dull butter knife. I can assure you, I am unarmed."

"Obi-Wan… what… what are you doing here?"

Confusion colored the man's features, but it was there and gone just as quickly. "It's just Ben,” he said, slowly putting his hands down.

Anakin's eye brows pinched as he frowned, “Ben? I– nevermind!” He thrust the knife out in warning and Ben's hands flew back up. "Where am I? How are you here??"

"Well this is MY house, and you're a guest in it, though I have half a mind to throw you out now for threatening me."

This ‘Ben’ was so much like his Obi-Wan, it took his breath away. The way he talked, even if the accent was slightly less of the clipped Coruscanti, and more of a slight brogue, then right down to the casualness with which he handled Anakin's threat… But behind the light-hearted jest, there was a definite wariness, a bit of fear for this complete stranger in his home. Because Ben clearly didn't know him. Anakin meant nothing to him. This wasn't his Obi-Wan.

Anakin blinked as he tried to remember anything before he woke up, trying to make sense of this situation. Maybe he was actually lying in a cot in a tent in the middle of a dusty desert on Jedha. Or perhaps on a moderately comfy bed in the Halls of Healing back inside the Jedi Temple. Or maybe he was floating inside a bacta tank – injured, knocked out, and healing. Yes, that was it. He was asleep and this was a dream, and in his great grief, he'd conjured up this older Obi-Wan. An Obi-Wan who was not only alive, but content, happy, and healthy. Of course he would – that's what Anakin wanted for his friend and the man he loved. He had created a life that Obi-Wan didn't get to live.

Tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes. He squeezed them shut tightly and willed himself to wake up.

"You seem to be very hurt," the voice spoke again, and Anakin opened his eyes. "Why don't you eat something then go lie down?"

"Maybe I am hurt, but this isn't real, you're not real," he said resolutely. "I am hurt, yes. But I'm at home, in the Temple." Maybe if he said it forcefully enough and without any doubt he would make it so.

Not-Obi-Wan stepped towards him and Anakin stepped back.

"I have no intention of hurting you, I think you need to lie down before you hurt yourself," Ben stepped towards him again, one hand extended, palm up as if he was trying to settle a wild nexu.

“You know that I could hurt YOU,” Anakin said, his voice wavering. The knife in his hand trembled.

“You won’t though.”

Their eyes fixed on each other as Ben stepped closer. Anakin didn't know whether he wanted to fight or flee, but he felt immobilized so he did neither.

Before he knew what was happening, Ben lunged forward and wrapped his right hand around Anakin’s wrist, gripping it tightly, forcing him to drop the knife, then another arm came around Anakin’s neck and squeezed.

“Sleep,” was the last word Anakin heard before he did just that.

Anakin dreamt of Obi-Wan.

But not the Obi-Wan he had known since he was nine years old. It was an Obi-Wan he'd known for maybe nine minutes.

In his dream, this Obi-Wan looked exactly like his Obi-Wan, he dressed differently but otherwise moved and talked like him. His gestures, jokes, and smiles were the same, even down to the lingering sadness behind his eyes that Anakin had always noticed when Obi-Wan thought he wasn’t looking. But in his dream, he was still on this other planet, and not Coruscant, and Obi-Wan wasn’t a Jedi, but a farmer.

Anakin was inside a small house which sat in the middle of several acres of land covered in trees and lush fields. Directly behind the home was a large garden where the older Obi-Wan currently stood amongst many kinds of plants, small and large. He was naked to the waist, and the sinking sun's rays reflected off his sweat-shiny skin, making it glisten. Ben was a bit thicker than Anakin remembered ever seeing Obi-Wan, but he was still strong and lithe. The muscles in his back and arms flexed as he dug into the earth and bent down to plant new seeds. Obi-Wan finally stood and turned, wiping sweat from his brow with a bit of cloth he pulled from his back pocket.

“Anakin,” he said with the loveliest smile Anakin had ever seen.

This Obi-Wan loved him. Anakin knew it somehow.

Anakin’s eyes flew open, he was sweating and his breathing labored. He sat up quickly, blankets pooling at his waist, and looked around. Daylight was fading, but it was enough to illuminate the room and he could see it was homey and cozy. He was now in a small bedroom he didn’t recognize in a very comfy bed. Far more comfortable than anything he'd grown used to in battlefield tents and aboard Venator destroyers. He looked to his right, wondering if he’d find Ben there, since this was surely his room, but when he found it empty, he exhaled, strangely relieved.

The bed was a modest size, easily large enough for two, but not so big that two people would never meet in the night. A dresser sat pushed up against the wall opposite with a small mirror resting on top. From where he sat, Anakin could see there were some trinkets and other items there as well, but he couldn’t make out what they were. A large chair sat by the window with a blanket haphazardly thrown over and a discarded datapad in the seat. On the small bedside table next to his side of the bed, there was a lamp, and surprisingly, his communicator and his lightsaber.

Anakin pushed away the covers and swung his legs over the side. He picked up his lightsaber to feel the familiar and comforting heft. Ben had undoubtedly found it, but it was a bit surprising that he had actually returned it to him. Maybe he didn't know what it was, didn't know what Anakin could do with it. Well, at least he'd be spared the 'your lightsaber is your life' lecture, though Anakin would have given up his lightsaber forever just to hear it again.

He was still wearing only a pair of sleep pants and he was glad to find that the glove over his mechno-arm was still in place. He wiggled his toes then slid off the bed and stepped onto soft, cool carpet and stretched away some of the stiffness. It felt like he had been asleep for days. At the window, he pulled back the curtain slightly to peer outside. The sun was setting in the distance behind the foothills, painting the sky in soft pinks, oranges, and purples. The landscape was bathed in a soft yellow, but none of that beauty compared to the man standing in the middle of the large vegetable garden.

Just like in his dream.

His heart rate picked up again.

Was he even awake now? Or was all of this a dream?

Suddenly small flashes of what he thought were recent memories returned to him – a pair of strong arms wrapping around his back and under his knees, the feel of a warm, wet cloth being dragged across his face gently, humming in another room, then Anakin threatening to stab this beautiful man with a butter knife. He flushed, hoping against hope that that was also only from his dream.

He dropped the curtain and made his way through the house and out onto the back porch. Ben was practically glowing in the evening sun. It only took a second for him to look up and smile.

“Hello there.” Ben thrust his shovel into the dirt, then rested his elbow on the handle. Anakin’s mouth suddenly became very dry. “Oh, I’ve hidden all the butter knives,” he added with a slight twist to his mouth. Anakin's face fell – so that one was true. “However, that thing I put on the bedside table seems like it could do much more damage than a knife.” Ben huffed as he pulled a cloth out of his back pocket and wiped his face.

“That 'thing'??” Anakin scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. His still-bare chest, he was reminded. Maybe from that distance Ben couldn’t tell that he was blushing. “That thing, Ben, is my lightsaber. MY LIFE. You are… were always so fond of reminding me.” Ben chuckled but said nothing else. It felt so odd for him to say nothing at all about it.

They stood and stared at each other for a few moments. Anakin allowed the stillness and quiet of the evening to envelope him once more. Was this really his current reality? Or was it possible that his mind had actually created some world so tangible, so intricate and detailed? An Obi-Wan who was both Obi-Wan and not simultaneously, and who had no clue who Anakin was.

Ben pulled his shovel from the ground and walked towards the house. He stopped below the porch and stared up at Anakin. “You must be hungry, would you like latemeal?”

As if right on cue, his stomach growled. “Yes, okay.”

“Let me get cleaned up and I will get it for you,” Ben said with a nod and passed by Anakin without a second look.

Anakin sat at the small table in the kitchen and watched as Ben deftly moved around the space preparing the meal. It was strange how everything seemed so familiar, from the way he stood and held himself, to the way he drank from his own mug, even down to how quiet and focused he was on the task. It was strange to know and love the man so well, but to not know him at all. Because this still wasn't his Obi-Wan. No matter what his dream told him. No matter what he wanted to believe and be real. But he was so like him, it made his heart ache. He knew a mind consumed with grief could create fantastical things, believe the unbelievable, especially if it brought back loved ones. He'd also heard stories of beings traveling through time and space, but that’s all they were supposed to be, stories – ‘wistie stories' his mom told him before bed or outlandish yarns spun by his fellow padawans as they shirked their duties.

But if that was true, and he'd been flung into another time and universe… Where was Anakin Skywalker here? And why wasn't he with Obi-Wan Kenobi?

He snapped out of his reverie when Ben set some food down in front of him then took his own place in the chair across the table. It was intimate, but Anakin couldn’t think about it too much because he was starving and the food smelled amazing. It was a needed distraction.

Between sips from his mug of tea, Ben finally spoke up. "I didn't see a ship. Or a speeder, for that matter."

"Uh well, I didn't have one," Anakin said as he pushed the food around on his plate. "At least not here." He shoved a large chunk of fried tuber in his mouth.

Ben narrowed his eyes, "I'm not exactly close to the nearest town, are you saying you walked?"

“No,” Anakin said around a mouthful of food. "I just ended up out there.”

Ben frowned, "How do you mean ‘ended up’?”

"Just that. I was on Jedha then I woke up in a mud puddle… I think."

Ben took another sip of his tea. "You've still not given me your name. What do I call you?"

Anakin felt like sulking, "You really don't know it." It wasn’t a question.

"Well, I… you seem to talk a lot in your sleep, and I thought maybe you'd mention it, but strangely, I only heard my own name over and over.” He looked down then cleared his throat. “But I can't really understand how you know my given name.” He stroked his beard.

Anakin felt as confused as Ben – or actually Obi-Wan. But he did know he didn’t like the way that sounded. He couldn’t remember any part of his dreams except for whatever vision that he had of Ben in the field before he saw him out there. He was now afraid of anything he might have said.

He toyed briefly with giving a fake name, but then decided against it at the last minute. This was Obi-Wan… some Obi-Wan, and with him he was always Anakin. “It’s Anakin.”

"Anakin," Ben repeated softly.

He ducked his head and continued eating, hoping that the older man would find something else to stare at for a little while. But he could feel his eyes still on him.

After a prolonged silence, Anakin spoke up again. "I'm not from here, wherever here is." Ben stared at him but kept silent so Anakin would continue. "I'm from Coruscant. Well, that's where I live anyway… In the Jedi Temple."

Ben’s eyebrows raised briefly then he looked down into his mug. “You’re a ways from Coruscant.”

Well now they were getting somewhere, and at least Coruscant existed in this universe. "And where is here?"

"Stewjon," Ben said as he sat back in his chair.

Of course. Of course! It was so obvious now – he’d been sent to Obi-Wan’s birth planet for some reason. Maybe it would be a starting point for figuring out the how and why.

"And what of the war?"

"What war?"

“What war?” Anakin huffed, "THE war, Ben, the war against the Separatists!?"

Ben shook his head in response. "I'm afraid I don't know it. I try to keep up with news from the Core Worlds as much as possible, but I've never heard of a war or the Separatists. Though, from the name alone, I can possibly figure out their platform.”

Anakin leaned forward, settling his elbows on the table. "When I say I'm not from here, I mean, not from HERE – this universe." It was out there – now it was up to Ben to decide what to do with it. Ben's brow dipped slightly, but he remained silent. "I am a Jedi, a general in the Grand Army of the Republic, I was your…" He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Did he even know the Jedi? He certainly wasn't his master here. "I was on a mission on Jedha, then… then, I woke up here."

Ben sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't believe him. Anakin could tell even though he said nothing.

He huffed again and ran a hand through his hair. "I want to get back, I need to get back. I don't belong here." Even if he could be at Obi-Wan’s side again, where he did belong.

Ben stroked his beard in thought. "Anakin, what you're saying… it's impossible. You can't hop to another universe. You can't travel through time or to another reality."

Anakin stood quickly, nearly upsetting the chair. "But I did it! And I’m here talking to you! An Obi-Wan who… who doesn't know or care anything about me!"

"Anakin, come now, that's not–" Ben started but Anakin wasn’t staying to listen.

He left the kitchen quickly and headed back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself down into the bed, wanting to scream into the pillow.

If he couldn’t even remember how he got here in the first place, how in the hell could he find a way back? And Ben clearly wasn’t going to help him. Anakin had no holocron here or a way to get back to Jedha to check. He couldn’t even get back to Coruscant, to the Temple. Maybe others like Mace and Yoda or Plo Koon existed here, even if he didn’t. Maybe they would know and could help him.

Anakin closed his eyes to keep the tears from slipping free, but they fell anyway, wetting the soft pillow underneath his head.

#obikin #obikin bingo #my writing #never a jedi au #alternate universe #universe travel #obi wan x anakin #fanfic #if you saw me reposting it #you probably didn't cos it wasn't showing up anywhere 😭

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lamaenthel · 3 months

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Solitary Confinement

[read on ao3][Febuwhump prompt: Solitary Confinement]

After being captured alongside General Kenobi by the Seppies, Cody holds out hope that rescue will arrive in time.

Characters: CC-2224|Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano Word count: 1575

The cell is damp and near-freezing. With Cody's vision robbed by whatever contraption they'd bolted over his eyes, his other senses have sharpened. He has to be careful not to breathe with his mouth open. The smell of rot and open sewage had him gagging when they first dragged him into the stronghold. He's gotten used to it. Mostly. It's only gotten stronger in the last few days.

Soft tapping from the other side of the room is the only point of contact he has with General Kenobi.

"Take heart, Cody. The beacon was launched before we were captured. I don't expect we'll be here long." General Kenobi gives him one last encouraging smile from the floor, his wrists chained above his head, before the clankers bring out the drill and start attaching the metal blinder to his temples. "This should be entertaining at least, my dear."

Their chains give them just enough leeway to stand, though if they do it more than a few times an hour they're shocked into unconsciousness. It happens if they speak, too, which seems idiotic as the Seppies would have a better chance of overhearing something than extracting it. He marks the days by torture sessions; by his best estimate, there's a full rotation between visits. The chains hum and go warm with promised electricity. The door opens and one of them is dragged out of their cell for uncountable minutes to be interrogated.

Cody much prefers being strapped down to the table over his General. At least he knows what's going on when a droid asks him for GAR secrets in a monotone buzz, right before the needles go into his neck and what feels like acid fills his veins. Its agony, but they'd started training him to withstand torture at five. At least when they're torturing him he can breathe.

The waiting is the worst. Those dreadful seconds when metal footsteps approach them and he doesn't know who they'll choose are worse than anything they can inject him with. General Kenobi has no such training, just his strength of will, and while it's indomitable, Cody knows it will give out eventually.

Maybe that's why they haven't taken him for three days. Kenobi taps on his chains every few minutes so Cody knows he's still alive, but he can't hear the reassuring sound of his Jedi breathing over his heart's own drumbeat pounding in his ears. There's nothing else to hear in the gluttonous, bloated silence.

He's dehydrated. Water wasn't provided—deemed unnecessary when every day the droids held his head under a steady stream of it until he passed out—but they haven't been fed since they arrived. Not food, anyway, just leathery balls of surprisingly sweet jelly during their torture sessions. They get angry when he chews them, so he keeps doing it, figuring it's the right call. His stomach cramps violently, squeezing acid up into his throat and eroding delicate tissue. His body is starting to cannibalize itself. Every torture session leaves him weaker, but it doesn't matter. He will survive, force his heart to keep pumping blood even when every other bit of him wastes away, because that's what he was made for. He's a Marshall Commander to a High General, not some wet-behind-his-ears shiny who's never known a night without Kamino's thunder. He knows how to withstand any torture, no matter how brutal.

Kenobi taps again. Cody taps back. It's all they can manage. It's enough to keep going.

Take heart, Cody.

He will. He'll let them rip him up from the inside out if that's what it takes, but he will not lose hope. Not if his General still needs him.

He feels the hum of electricity in his teeth right before his chains warm and come alive again. He steels himself. Any moment the door will open. They'll drag him off again to ask the same questions that he won't answer, flay him like a nerf left to rot in the sun, then throw him back in his cell once they deem it to be another wasted day.

The door doesn't open. Instead, the chains go cold. Cody frowns; that's never happened before. The floor vibrates, and he's thrown violently to the side with the force of an explosion somewhere below them. The rushing roar of blood in his ears intensifies. "General Kenobi?" he whispers, taking a chance that their captors are occupied with whatever the hell that was. He can't speak properly anyway. Between the screaming and the stomach acid, his voice is virtually gone. "Can you hear me, General?"

Kenobi taps again, unwilling to risk it. Cody accidentally sucks a deep breath in, gagging from the stench of rot. It's all he can do to not vomit, even though he doesn't have anything to bring up except acid. He ignores the burning in his throat. DC-17 carbine fire echos through the vents, a song as reassuring as a mother's lullaby to a clone trooper. "They're here, General," he says, adrenaline jumpstarting his weak heart. "We did it." We survived.

Kenobi taps again.

Waiting for his brothers to find them is more painful than anything their captors have put him through. He can hear boots thumping, blaster fire getting closer, the hum of a swinging lightsaber. He twitches in his chains, weak muscles begging to join the fight. Who came, the 212th? Undoubtedly they'd come in some capacity, but he would hazard a guess that there's a fair amount of blue mixed in the golden orange. Skywalker never was one to sit on his hands and wait patiently where General Kenobi was concerned.

"Just hang on, General. They're almost here." Cody licks lips that taste like sour old iron. First thing he's going to do after seeing to his General and getting debriefed is grab the bottle of tihaar he confiscated from Wooley. There aren't many perks of being in command, but if he had to make a list then sampling the contraband for “safety reasons” would definitely be near the top.

The blaster fire gets closer, along with the subsonic buzz of a lit saber. Cody fidgets in his cross-legged sit, his legs on fire and cramped from being bent for days, barely able to contain himself. The door beeps and slides open. Cold air that smells like corpses is sucked into the room, shocking him. He hears a single, sharp inhale, high-pitched and young. "Cody?" a trembling voice asks after a few pregnant seconds.

"Commander Tano," Cody rasps. The words scrape his throat like rusty sheet metal.

The sound of her footsteps scuff across the floor. "Oh, Force, what is this?" She touches the metal band that the droids had bolted into his skull. He jerks in his chains as a lightning bolt of sharp pain zaps through his temples, accidentally smacking his head against the wall as he does. "It's okay. Don't move, everything is going to be fine." Her commlink beeps. "Rex, cell 117. I found them. I need a medic here, now." Her voice shakes. “E-Everything is going to be okay.”

"General?" Cody tries to clear his throat, tastes blood instead. "It's alright, General, we can talk now. The chains are turned off."

Kenobi taps.

"Don't… don't let Anakin up here." Cody's blood freezes. A soft, trembling hand runs across his brow, mindful of the bolts this time. "We tracked the beacon." Her voice cracks. "We came… we came as fast as we could."

Cody leans into her soft touch, for her comfort as much as his. She's always been so sensitive. "I'm alright, Commander. Go check on General Kenobi."

He hears a humming fwoom. She cuts his chains with her lightsaber, rubbing his bloodless hands briskly like he'd been out in the cold once they're free. "It's going to be okay, Cody," she says again. She's crying.

"General, please say something," Cody says hoarsely. The stench of rotten flesh is so overpowering that he can taste it. "Obi-Wan?" Why hasn't he said anything? Why hasn't he greeted Ahsoka? When did the tapping stop?

The tapping resumes; relief floods his system. "Get off of him!" Her lightsaber ignites, swings, and a wet chitinous thump follows a moment later. "I'm sorry." Ahsoka whispers it over and over again until the words slur together.

Cody reaches up to the metal blinder and starts turning the bolts that keep it attached to his skull with numb fingers. The screws take forever to twist out of his swollen, infected skin, but he doesn't stop even when Ahsoka grabs his wrists and begs him to. He shoves the sobbing girl away and rips the blinder off with an agonizing scream.

It takes a few seconds for his vision to adjust. Even in the near pitch-black his eyes hurt. General Kenobi sits cross-legged exactly where Cody had seen him last. He's still chained to the wall, mottled hands cuffed above his hanging head. A pile of something shiny and wet glistens in his lap.

Cody creeps closer on his hands and knees, unable to trust his weak eyes. His hands slip in the slick blackness that covers that side of the room. The smell of rot and sewage is almost unbearable. Cody reaches out a quivering hand, confirms with a touch what his eyes refuse to see.

The bisected insect that's been eating its way through the General's guts taps weakly on the floor one last time before finally dying with a hiss.

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @febuwhump , @soliloquy-of-nemo Divider: @saradika-graphics

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half-truths-and-hyperbole-louk · 2 months

Text

Louk's Bad Batch rewatch part 23 !!!

I'm back batchers rip my sleep schedule lmao but nothing can stop me from watching tbb

I've got my skittles and my tumblr and disney+ and I'm ready to go 🤟

The Bad Batch 2x03

this entire planet looks like it's made of spice

nervous imperial you're not fooling anyone my dude

Tawni Ames 👑 shoutout to the queen herself Tasia Valenza 💕

CORUSCANT !!!

CROSSHAIR 🥺🥲😭💕❤ I missed you sm (I watched s1 hours ago 🤫)

another Kallus parallel 👀

regs will always hate tbb lololol

Rampart 🔫😁(me, I hate his guts)

32 rotations... 32 ROTATIONS I- 😫

the empire are bitches and we don't negotiate with terrorists

the memorial wall 🥲 (we're gonna pretend it isn't a bunch of random letters hehe)

a few behind Crosshair literally say: sdflkphi, dkniihqaz, aweututn, qqhgouer ~ anyone know more aurebesh than me who can explain this pls ??

he called him by his name !!!

CODY CODY CODY CODY 💕💕💕💕👑👑👑👑

Cody's face when Crosshair mentions the jedi 😭

the only two without their helmets on !!!

FLASHBACK TO THE FIRST BAD BATCH APPEARANCE IN TCW 👀

"mmhmmmm" ~ battle droid, bro 💀

"Dooku was right in the end" real

"We always get shot down when we travel with regs" 👀

"How unfortunate... for you" ~ someone else said this and now I can't find it 🙃 anyway I'm pretty sure it was Crosshair idk

the droid high five lmaooo

clever boys 👑

Crosshair and Cody team up will never fail to make me happy 👌

"I've beaten clankers with far less" tbb mention 🥲💕

Cody trusting Crosshair 🥰 "you do make things interesting" I'd love to see early Cody + tbb missions pretty pretty please 🥺

my mans doesn't even flinch !!!!!

I can feel his smirk when he blows up the tank hehe

Cody has a jetpack and still went nah Ican make that jump 😂 I mean he did but still

Cody complimenting Crosshair 💕

WYLER AND NOVA OWN MY HEART FR

droidekas !!!

Wyler r.i.p my love 💔

There is just something about clones vs droids ya know

Crosshair and Nova silent communication I love it 👌

Cody screaming for Nova and Crosshair pulling him away 😭😭😭😭

r.i.p Nova my beloved 💔

Crosshair's discs !!!!

backflip !!!!

knife knife knife knife knife- 👀

Crosshair calling for Cody to help 🙃

KNIFE KNIFE KNIFE KNIFE KNIFE-

Crosshair putting the puck in Cody's hand - bro at first I thought mans was too injured to move the way he was like 'throw it for me I can do it from laying down in this spiral staircase' and he makes the shot and stands up 2 seconds later and is back to committing war crimes ?? Crosshair you dramatic bitch 💀

"nice throw" "nice shot" 🥰🥰🥰🥰

notice how the tk troopers got captured so they send clones to get them out.... 🙃

Mina Bonteri 💔

"peace was never an option" devastating

the clone music when Cody reasons with Tawni 😫🤧

Crosshair following orders but also saving Cody from having to kill Tawni

the Crosshair music 🥲

"so much for peace" 💔

"put her body in the square" but I can imagine how gentle he would have been with her body... do you think he left his helmet off so the people could see his face or did he cover his face for that

Ok I want to go full english teacher for a moment I'll do it in a few eps watch this space 👀

Crossy and his lil toothpick 💕 (he just murdered someone)

the clones did the dirty work now more tk troopers arrive 😡

Cody's whole speech 💔😭 "we make our own choices and we have to live with them too" knowing he's thinking about everything he's done and thinking he killed Obi-Wan... what if I screamed into the abyss ???

Crosshair not being able to sleep 😫

Rampart doesn't even know their names 😡

OKAY do we think "gone awol" means Cody has actually left or is he awol the same way Wilco is??

COME ON CROSSHAIR JUST LEAVE THE EMPIRE ALREADY 😫

hehe thank you for coming to my 2am tbb rewatch (again hehe) 💕 sorry it's late again if you saw any spelling miatakes no you didn't 🤟

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fandomobsessedcharacters · 1 year

Text

IMAGINE…

BEING A JEDI SURVIVING ORDER 66 AND REUNITING WITH HUNTER PT. 1

Notes: HAPPY BAD BATCH EVE! I’m excited to share this piece with you guys and don’t worry...the next one will be out before you know it! Enjoy!

Surviving a war was one thing. Surviving order 66 was another.

The clone wars was over, and the Jedi were accused of treason. Everything that has happened seemed unreal. Everything was gone in a blink of an eye. The Jedi, the Republic, everything. The clones had turned on you and you had barely come out of it alive, but you did come out of it. But why? How could they after everything they’ve been through. However that didn’t matter. Getting to Cid’s in one piece was what mattered.

Cid the informant. From what you could remember about the Trandoshan, she was a tipster for the Jedi before the massacre. That and she resided on Ord Mantell, or at least, the most seedy part of the planet anyways.

With nowhere to go and hide from the ever-growing power of the Empire, Cid was the next best bet.

It was dangerous times, and in times like these, and all your instincts told you to keep your head down and out of trouble. And that’s what you did. Traveling from shuttle to shuttle for the last few weeks, you were on edge. As you watched the glistening light-speed of hyperspace from your seat, you were keeping a low profile until you reached Ord Mantell. The crowded ships filled with noisy passengers were starting to feel overwhelming. It also didn’t help that clones were checking every passenger with chain-codes and soon, they were coming your way.

Pulling your hood down to cover your face and your other hand placed on your saber underneath your cloak, you were filled with a quick panic that instantly passed as soon as the soldier did. Releasing a sigh of relief, you leaned your head against the window. With closed eyes, you could feel the saber under your hood. The comfort of something familiar easing you into solace.

It was all you had left. Your only ally and the only person you could count on: Yourself.

However, it wasn’t always like that. While the war was nothing but an endless battle of clankers, you had Clone Force 99. Occasionally you would spend an amount of time with the clones. Trouble followed them around like a smell and they had a uniqueness unlike anything you’ve ever seen. They were quite the team of individuals, but while you did miss them wholeheartedly, there was one that made you longing to see the most. Hunter.

He was a strong and stoic leader. But while all that was true, that’s not what made him a great leader. It wasn’t even his extraordinarily keen senses that did it either. It was his strong sense of morality. He had no hesitation to do the right thing. Whether with his brothers or to the reg commanders, he stands by his morals every time. It’s what you admired the most about him.

And with that time with them, you got to know the clone the most. The way you knew that every time he closed his eyes, he was slowly taking in all the senses that bugged him. To even the catching the rarest smiles from him when you talked. A wistful smile came, the memories heartening as you remembered.

Even out of sight, he was still on your mind.

With a heavy heart, you had shake your head of those thoughts. Even if it was the good old times, they were nothing but the past now. Your only thought? To make it to Cid’s and hopefully, start a new life for yourself away from the Empire. As you pulled out of hyperspace to the planet of Ord Mantell, it perked your attention with a hopeful smile. Sighing, you leaned back into your seat with only one thought in mind as you soon landed.

I wonder where Hunter is right now?

***********

In Cid’s cantina, everyone was occupied.

Omega and Wrecker were smiling ear to ear as they munched on their mantell mix after another successful mission. While Tech was with Echo at the bar, talking about repairs that needed to be done to the ship over drinks. Even Hunter, who sat on the other end of the bar, with a drink in hand as he took casual sips. In spit of that, he had other things on his mind. More specifically, you.

When he heard about the Jedi being wiped out, his only concern was you.

Were you hurt? Were you in danger? Are you even alive? And if you were, where are you? His thoughts were engulfed with negative thoughts about you.

All these thoughts made him down the hatch before wiping off the liquid from his mouth with his backhand. It’s not like he wanted to find you, he did. But with Crosshairs betrayal and being on the run, he couldn’t risk his team for something he wanted. Even if it meant betraying his heart for the sake of the team. Hunter just couldn’t.

So he buried those feelings deep enough to forget for a time, but not forever. At least, until he heard a familiar voice that shook him to his core.

“Hunter?”

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skeletalheartattack · 1 year

Note

ignoring realistic necessities like food, care, space, and medical attention, what video game enemy would you want to have as a pet ?

if i had to choose. it'd be one of these three.

#ask #anon #i just really like creature designs with sharp teeth and simple shapes i think.#thats kinda why i designed Budd the way i did. simple shape with sharp.... mouth things. and one brushstroke for the eyes.#and overall shaped like a potato. or sausage. whatever.#im not sure (off the top of my head) what other enemy i'd pick for a pet #theres a lot of enemy designs i love. like clefts from paper mario. but those are like. people.#clanker from banjo is also a good design but. not an enemy. cant be a pet.#not because of like his size but because i think itd be fucked up to have him as a pet. put that dude in the ocean #if you had him as a pet. simply you'd be sent up into the air by my wicked blow and buddy you wouldnt be coming back down #banjo saw clanker and thought ''man i should really kill that witch for real actually''#like its one thing to steal his sister. thats whatever. thats small peas.#putting a big fucking awesome dude in a space and chaining him to an anvil. that witch has to be put under a rock #also let's also kill L.O.G. for what he did to clanker in nuts&bolts #like it was fucked up what Grunty had him live through. but what L.O.G. did. lets kill him #now keeping a plush of clanker? thats okay :) a plush of clanker would fucking rule #blahaj but made of metal and flesh. awesone #sorry. i like clanker a lot as a dude. hes cool. not a pet though. or else.#anyway sorry i dont have more options to grab from.#its like if prof oak gave you an option between three bulbasuars. guess im picking bulbasohar. im not backspacing.#anyway thank you for the ask anon :) ik its hard for me to pick between chain chomp chain chomp and chain chomp #but you understand #whatever

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lewis-winters · 19 days

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Made-up fic title:

When Birds Attack

do you know the book series Leviathan by Scott Westerfield? it's World War 1 set in a steampunk alternate universe, where the Central Powers (known in-universe as "Clankers") use mechanized war machines and the Triple Entente (referred in text as "Darwinists") fabricate living creatures genetically for use in battle?

anyway, that but make it WW2 and Masters of the Air, with the Allies being Darwinists, and the planes being massive genetically modified eagles of some sort, and the MotA boys as their riders!! there would most definitely be a joke amongst the 100th about their massive genetically modified war birds being pigeons, especially from Biddick.

#ask #ask game #masters of the air #mota

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clone-lover · 1 year

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Paranoia on Umbara

Tech x fem jedi reader

Takes place during the republic cause if we don't believe order 66 happened than it never did🤫

So I had this idea for a split second and knew I needed to write it. Im also going to be writing it during my sisters wedding to distract myself from the massive ass church 😭 (I don't like churches)... Anyways on with the story!! Enjoy!!!

Pt.1

pt.2

Pt.3

Master List

Ps. I don't own the bad batch or star wars so miss me with that copyright✋✋

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The batch and you were lying atop a hill scouting the droid factory beneath it. This wasn't your first mission with them and they seemed to like having you by their sides. Hell even crosshair was warming up to you.

But that's all besides the point you are in the here and now. Here and now is destroying a droid factory.

"hunter, what is the best course of action?" You questioned the sergeant. Even tho you were technically above him in rank, his opinion was valuable and he was birthed with the purpose to lead... You were not.

"crosshair stays here to keep eyes on the ground. Me and wrecker will flank left while you and tech flank right. Speed and the element of surprise will get us through the facility without setting off the alarms. The last thing we need is more clankers."

Tech nodded his head in agreement while wrecker groaned about needing to be stealthy. "Let's get on with it," you rushed the men.

While you and Tech trampled down the hill towards the facility he mumbled about the importance of a filter helmet on lush planets like Umbara. He spoke of the dangerous flora and the physiological effects the pollen may have. You sucked the air of your helmet a little less knowing that the air outside it could be hostile.

As you were walking you felt something shift in the force. It was almost as if there was something or someone else in the dense shrubbery you had been walking through. You stopped to listen and could hear movement. Tech turned around to face you, "what's wrong-"

A thick vine snatched him from the place he stood and began to violently jolt him. You quickly sprung into action, severing the limb from the weird man eating plant and driving your blade into its sharp mouth.

Tech fell from his suspension and hit the ground hard enough to knock him out. Quickly you attacked the comms and demanded hunter to hold off the assault until tech was conscious again. You ran over to tech to access his injuries to find a gash in his skull and that is helmet was removed.

Underneath the clone was a deep red stained on the grass under him. While using the force to grab his helmet you order hunter back to the Marauder. You arrived back to the Marauder quicker than the others so you began to patch him up.

The gash in his head was bandage and he was lying in his bunk unconscious.

"(YN)! Get the ship ready for takeoff we ran into some trouble with some clankers and will need to leave quickly!" You could hear fighting in the background of hunter's comms.

You rushed to the front of the ship for two reasons. One being you needed to get back to give tech the medical treatment he needed and two, the other batchers needed a quick escape. You suddenly remembered that crosshair should have been here first. He was on the hill just a couple kilks away.

"Crosshair, what's your location." You hastily bark while trying to scramble to get the ships systems online.

"Im outside the Marauder but Tech sealed up the gangplank before I could get on."

"what? But Tech is-" you meeped as a hand covered your mouth. Instinctively you let go of the comm button as a hot voice swept into your ear.

"They are working with the separatists. They are bringing them here." It was Tech but you had never seen or heard him like this. Perhaps it was the head injury. Either way you needed to calm him.

"Tech," you began to turn around until you felt a blaster press into your temple.

"(Y/N) is everything ok in there?" Hunter came over the comms after hearing your absence. You reached for your comm until the blaster jolted you head.

"don't answer them."

"They need our help, Tech. They are running from the separatists, not working with them."

He adjusted his goggles and groaned out, "You're working with them too!"

You sensed he was going to pull the trigger and used the force to push him into the door to the cabin. He fell unconscious and slid down the door.

"Get the gang plank down, now!" Hunter cried through the comms. You slammed the button to open it and tried to fire up the ship. The door to the cabin slid open causing Tech to flop onto the floor just outside the cabin.

"Move. Take care of Tech," Hunter ordered. You quickly moved to Tech and brought him back to his bunk. He ripped off all his bandaging while you were in the cockpit. Unfortunately, that was the last of the bandaging.

"what happened?" Cross came up behind you while you where kneelt beside the clone.

You sighed because you didn't even know what happened or why he was ready to leave the brothers he had fought with for his whole life. "He attacked me"

"He what?!" A shared reaction flooded the cabin. Mostly because wrecker was screaming.

"he said y'all were working with the separatists."

"hey hunter! Do you here this!" Wrecker yelled into the cockpit. "Tech's gone crazy!"

The ship slipped into hyperspace and hunter entered the cabin. "We will avoid Kamino until we can figure this out. Chances are, he will be executed, or worse." You peeled yourself off the floor to address hunter, "if the behavior shift is related to a frontal cortex injury there isn't anything anyone can do, except for the kaminoians."

Hunter looked at Tech then back at you, "let's hope that's not the case, for all of our sakes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🖤~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🖤~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Uhhhh Idk if that one was any good lmao but I'll make a part two maybe I'll put a little angst or something 😉🤫 ❤️

#tech x you #tbb tech #tech x reader #tech tbb #tech #tbb x reader #star wars tbb #sw tbb #tcw

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sunshinesdaydream · 11 months

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Hello! I'd like to request #9 with Fives and Cody, please. 😃

Cool! So in my head this is going to be Arc Trooper Fives, because we see him with Cody at Rishi but he is still a really young inexperienced trooper there. Not quite "Our" Fives yet.

Again, below the cut because I got attached.

9.Having to team up with (--character of your choice--)

-Cody can't decide if the outside the box thinking that Fives does is Rex's influence or if Rex just attracts that type. He did basically adopt Fives anyways.

-Fives has a lot of respect for Cody. Outside of being part of multiple joint missions with Cody and his men, Rex speaks highly of Cody.

-Also anyone who will crush a clanker's head between his thighs is a-okay in Five's book.

-Cody likes how concise and clever Fives CAN be but also impressed by how he can pour his heart out and get a group of people to follow him.

-Cody claims to dislike Five's sometimes inappropriate sense of humor. If he made a dick joke to his Jedi General he is not going to be shy about making one to the Marshal Commander. Especially since he has heard Rex talk about him enough to feel like he knows Cody almost as well as Rex.

-Cody totally laughed at the inappropriate joke.

-Honestly they team up pretty well. Cody is used to chaotic plans, Fives is adept at knowing when to lighten the mood and when to buckle down and get shit done.

-Both have "Hold my Beer" energy

-Fives asks Cody to teach him how to crush a clanker's head with his thighs.

-They get along surprisingly well and exchange com numbers where they exchange bad jokes via text.

This was fun. I just really think Cody would adore having someone that is both going to look up to him and listen to him in the rare occurrence of them teaming up, but having someone to laugh with like he's a kid.

Star Wars Headcanon Asks

#star wars headcanons #star wars #the clone wars #commander cody #arc trooper fives #sunshine's headcanons

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elliedearest · 4 months

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I'm listening to the audio book of Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld. I read it when I was 13-14 but thought I'd revisit.

It's amazing to me that now that I'm double the age when I first read it, I'm picking up things that I must have missed the first time. Particularly understanding why the adults did what they did.

And how unbearably young these kids actually are.

I say this because I realized the reason why they let Alek run the clanker machine is because if any of the adults were to die or be severely injured, he'll know how to get away.

And that Dylan/Deryn has a very incomplete view of how the world works, especially when it comes to politics. But that's okay because Alek has a very monarch (elitist) view of his people and the way they live, at least in the beginning, and that kind of logic is way worse than Deryn's. Lol.

Also, I'm like leaving a lot of things out and simplifying some things, but that's because I'm nearly in the middle of the book, and my memory of the details is fuzzy.

Anyway, Alan Cummings is a great narrator. Truly enjoying it.

#leviathan scott westerfeld #leviathan series #scott westerfeld

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kaminocasey · 1 year

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Is It Ok If I Request A Tech x Reader Where They Show Each Other Their Scars Kissing Them And It Leads To Fluffly Smut? 🥺

I'm sorry it took me so long to get to this!!! I hope I did this alright. I've never really given scars a whole lot of attention before like this. Title: Scars and All Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Smut, Scars, mentions of battle, Oral (F receiving), Fluff

You and Tech sit in the darkness of your bedroom, the comforter brought up around the two of you as you sit on your bed, showing you each other your scars and talking about how you got them. The only light in the room is that of the Ord Mantell street lights, casting a soft glow over the two of you.

“I remember this one.” He murmurs softly, tracing the scar tissue that litters your shoulder from getting hit by shrapnel from a clanker getting blown up a little too close to you on the battlefield.

“You do?” You ask, surprised.

“Mmhm. I cleaned the wound.” He smiles, softly.

“I don’t remember that.” You tell him, apologetically.

“I’d think not. You were really out of it. Thought I was going to lose you then…” He whispers, kissing the scar.

“You could never get so lucky.” You tease him.

He hums in agreement, cheekily. You both chuckle against each other, brushing your lips over each other’s, your tongues teasing each other ever so slightly before you pull away to trace your fingers over a scar on his collarbone. The scar tissue makes his “For the Republic” tattoo look a little deformed but neither of you care. The Republic is long gone anyway.

“I got that one from a talon of a nexu before Wrecker could wrangle it away.” He chuckles.

“Maker, Tech… you could’ve died.” You look up at him with wide eyes.

“That’s in the job description.” He shrugs.

“Why were you even wrangling a nexu?” You ask him.

“That’s a long story.” He pushes your body down to the bed, kissing your bare skin just below your ribs.

Letting out a soft sigh, you card your fingers through his curls.

“What’s this one?” He asks you, tracing the scar tissue about three inches above your belly button.

“Gallbladder surgery.” You laugh.

He looks up at you, eyebrows arched. “You don’t have a gallbladder?”

“Is that a dealbreaker?”

Tech chuckles softly and kisses the scar. “No, I just didn’t know that.”

He moves his lips lower toward your warmth and hooks a leg over his shoulder before nipping at the soft flesh of your thigh. Letting out a soft moan, you hold his hand before he dives into your warmth.

Loving the gentle way that he starts licking into you, sucking your clit between his lips perfectly, you can’t help the soft gasp you let out. It’s different than ever before, like he realizes just how human you both are and how you need just a moment to slow down and enjoy each other.

“I’ll never get tired of this.” You moan softly.

He hums in agreement before inserting a finger into your wet warmth, curling it perfectly so that it rubs against that soft spongy part inside of you. You grip his hair, feeling your orgasm approaching. He chuckles, understanding.

“Say my name, cyare.” He begs, softly.

“Kriff… Tech…” You gasp loudly before falling over your edge, coming apart on his fingers and face.

He thrusts his fingers into you, riding out your orgasm before pulling away from you. He smiles down at your blissed out body before joining you at the head of the bed again. Still panting, you roll over him so that you can straddle him. He looks up at you from behind his goggles.

“I adore you. You know that?” You trace your fingers down his chest and he grabs your hand before pulling them to his chest, holding them there, over his heart.

“I love you.” He promises you. “Scars and all.”

You give him a toothy grin, unable to help the warmness in your cheeks. “I love you.”

#tbb tech #tbb tech x you #requests #asks #tbb #the bad batch #Tech x you #tech x reader #tw: scars

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fives-lover · 1 year

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Into the Forest I Go

Forgot to post this yesterday, sorry!

This fic is part of the @cloneficgiftexchange! I hope you like what I did for you @burningfieldof-clover

I tried so hard to figure something out with romance since you like it so much but it’s not 100% my thing. Hope you enjoy it anyway!

Blaster fire crisscrossed the field in front of you while you and the men attempted to gain a better position and gauge droid movements. You could hear the screams and groans of the men getting shot all around you until you got closer to the front to report something to General Skywalker. Everything behind you was drowned out by the humm of lightsabers, metal, and robotic voices.

Those sounds were soon drowned out by your own heartbeat and the amount of adrenaline rushing through you.

The battalion had barely gained any ground and hundreds of droids still marched closer with tanks mixed throughout their ranks.

“The scouts and I found a better position to take out that tactical droid, sir!” You yell over the overwhelming noise. You wanted to get back to the trees and analyize the situation, acting as one of the snipers instead of sprinting across an open field filled with injured or dead friends.

“Good! Get back out there and try to take it out! Everything else will go into chaos! Don’t miss!”

“I never miss!” You ran back to your assigned squad to fill them in before taking your rifle to higher ground.

Droids filed their way through the forests surrounding you but you weren’t too worried, you were one of the best at keeping a low profile and sneaking through unseen, waiting to take your shot. The thick underbrush surrounding your group provided excellent cover as long as none of the clankers used any heat sensors.

“I’ll make my way up that hill while you three climb some of these trees and watch my back. Start firing on my mark.” The men nodded and you made your way through the forest.

Your targetted spot was getting closer when you heard something behind you and darted behind and up a tree, finding nothing. You stayed there for several moments until you were sure that whatever it was had moved on. On the way back down you were shot and came crashing, landing hard on the leaf-covered ground and losing the rest of your breath.

Rex commed you, “are you okay?! I told the others to stay where they are. Don’t move, I’m on my way!”

“Keep pushing forward, Rex,” you wheeze, “this mission is more important! We have to take that base, and we have to do it soon!” You moved to sit up and bring yourself to lean against the tree but couldn’t move well from the open gash in your side and clenched your teeth as you used every bit of energy you had left to drag yourself just a few more feet. “I’ve got my rifle and some cover. Keep pushing forward,” you order.

“I will save you if it’s the last thing I do,” he replied before cutting the line.

You were forced to stay in one spot whether you liked or not and decided to tell one of your squad members to make his way to a better position and take the tactical droid out then began moving some of the brush around you for better coverage to hide behind.

“Fuck,” you grumble under your breath upon lifting your shirt to look at the full extent of your wound. “Why did I have to decide to train as a scout and sniper in training instead of a damn medic or some shit?”

You lean your head against the tree for what felt like years when you heard movement to your right, the direction the clankers were coming from, and gripped your rifle tighter. It wasn’t good for close-range fighting but it would have to do; you had lost your knife in the fall, but it wasn’t like you’d be able to move around enough to use it well anyway.

Sliding down the tree some, you prepared for a fight and aimed the blaster in the direction of the noises coming closer. Everything stopped. The only sounds you heard again were the birds and squirrels. Still, you raised your weapon, prepared to use it at any second, and jumped when you heard your name - the gash in your side bleeding even more.

“Fuck, Rex! Did you really have to scare me like that?!” You asked, moving some of your cover out of the way for him to get closer. “I thought I told you to leave me until that base got taken.”

“You did. I also said that I’d save you if it was the last thing I ever did,” He shrugged and moved closer to raise your blood soaked shirt up and look at your side, “and it looks like it’s a good thing that I did.”

“You’ve always been dramatic about that kind of shit. I was going to be fine until the base got taken. Like you should have done before finding me,” you growled.

“We took the base. I made sure everything was going to go smoothly after helping route out any remaining clankers. So, I followed orders. Now shut up and let’s get you out of here.” He moved to your other side and pulled your arm over his shoulder to help you up after securing your rifle across his back and contacted Kix, “get some space opened up for her. She’s probably going to pass out from blood loss before we get back.”

“I’m not going to pass out. It would have happened already.”

“Just like when you said that everything was going to be fine on Kashyyyk just before all hell broke loose?”

“How was I supposed to know all of that was going to happen right that second?!” You chuckle before putting your free hand against his chest and whispered, “stop, I just heard something.”

Rex handed you one of his blasters and crouched to hide behind a large bush, making sure to look in every direction possible but wasn’t sure what you had heard.

Blaster trained in one direction, you stared down the spot that you heard the rustling. Rex followed your gaze but still didn’t see anything until you fired. A commando droid dropped like one of the acorns falling from the surrounding trees.

“We need to keep an eye out for more. How much further to the base?” You whisper, clenching your teeth on your way back to standing up.

“Another couple of klicks.”

“Fuck.”

He chukled, “yeah.”

~~~~~~

Rex had been right; you passed out about three-quarters of the way there. Upon seeing the two of you, Kix immediately kicked out a shiny with a minor injury for you lay on the cot.

“She’s going to need a lot of stitches but I can’t do anything without completely taking her shirt off,” Kix assessed, “either you need to hold up a blanket or something for some privacy, stand guard at the door, or just let everyone see her. Up to you.” He got up to gather the supplies.

Rex didn’t know what he wanted to do. He didn’t want to leave your side but he also didn’t want anyone seeing you shirtless. He eventually decided to stand with a blanket spread between his arms between you and any prying eyes, keeping your dignity while also staying close.

~~~~~~

Waking up, you look around bleary eyed. Panic set in when you didn’t know where you were or how you got there. Last you knew, you were still in the forest hobbling alongside Rex and keeping your head on a swivel on the lookout for more clankers.

Jumping to sit up, a hand rested firmly on your shoulder and the man shushed you until you came to your senses. He got up and left the room. Several minutes later, Rex all but burst through the door.

“How are you feeling?” Rex asked, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

You sarcastically laughed, “like shit.”

“Well, it isn’t too bad if you’ve still got you sense of humor,” he shuffled closer on the crate next to your cot, “don’t scare me like that ever again.”

You roll your eyes, “not exactly something I can promise in a warzone.”

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