#i miss the blanket troopers

[riinoaheartilly]

You know who else deserves a blanket?

It's Fox. The Blanket Trooper army needs its Commander.

You are absolutely correct and I'm very disappointed in myself for not giving our dearest Commander a blanket sooner!

#commander fox #grizzer #swtcw #tcw #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #coradoodle #he can have a blanket caf and company... as a treat. #i miss the blanket troopers #blanket troopers

[dystopicjumpsuit]

In Which Jesse Gets What He Deserves

A/N: Some very gentle Jesse smut, because he deserves nice things. 

Pairing: ARC Trooper Jesse x Reader (fem; has hair which apparently smells good based on how much time Jesse spends with his face in it)

Rating: M (minors DNI)

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings and tags: fluff; domesticity; lots of cuddling; established relationship; SMUT; body worship; maybe a hint of somnophilia; oral sex; fingering; PIV; I didn’t set out to write that cuddlefucking fic we talked about on Discord, but here we are

Summary: You are very happy to have Jesse home.

Suggested listening:

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You had never seen Jesse look so tired. He was always so strong, so sure of himself—he seemed as invincible as the Republic itself. So when he trudged into your flat with deep shadows beneath his eyes, his shoulders slumped beneath the weight of those massive ARC pauldrons, you couldn't imagine how difficult his most recent deployment must have been. But he greeted you with that same sweet smile that had first caught your eye all those months ago, and if he leaned a little too heavily on you when you kissed him, well, it was a small price to pay to have him home, safe in your arms. 

You helped him strip off his bulky armor and stack it in the living room. Once he was down to his body glove, he kissed you again, and you held him tightly, trailing your lips up his cheek until you reached the edge of his tattoo. You began to work your way around the circumference of the Republic cog, dropping the lightest, feathery kisses on his skin, before kissing your way up and down every single spoke of the cog, until Jesse was squirming and laughing beneath your onslaught of kisses. 

You finished by kissing the tip of his nose, and then you took him by the hand and dragged him to the sofa, pushing him down onto the soft cushions and settling onto his lap. You snuggled close to him, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Stars, I've been looking forward to this for weeks,” he murmured. “Missed you so much.”

“I missed you more,” you whispered.

“No way.”

“Way,” you replied gravely.

He tightened his arms around you and kissed the top of your head, breathing in deeply. He passed out within seconds, snoring quietly in your ear. You stayed perfectly still for a while, but eventually, you roused him enough to get him into the bedroom and help him out of the body glove and into bed. He was asleep almost before he crawled under the covers.

You slipped beneath the blanket to lie next to him, scrolling idly through your datapad. After an hour or so, you got up quietly and went to the kitchen, closing the bedroom door carefully so as not to disturb him. You cooked his favorite meal—something simple and hearty that would braise in a low oven for hours—and when even the smell of the food didn't wake him up, you went back to bed.

You hadn't been doom-scrolling on the holonet long when Jesse shifted in his sleep, a low, quiet moan rumbling from his chest. Glancing over, you saw that he'd kicked off the blanket and was now only covered up to his waist in the sheet—unsurprising; he always seemed to run a little hotter than average, which worked out well for you, since you always seemed to be a little cold. Your eyes roamed appreciatively over his broad shoulders, down his thick chest, over his powerful core, to where his hips disappeared beneath the sheets that were rather prominently tented by his erect cock.

Whatever he was dreaming, it seemed to be pleasant.

As you watched, he rolled his hips subtly, unconsciously seeking stimulation. You slid a little closer to him, draping your torso carefully over his outstretched arm, and traced your fingertips lightly over his collarbone, then down his pectoral. You loved his chest; the dense muscles never failed to make your mouth water when you saw him without a shirt. You avoided the tickle zone of his waist, instead moving up to his shoulder and beginning to stroke lightly down his arm. 

You were so engrossed in exploring his gorgeous body that you didn't immediately notice that his eyes had opened, and he watched you with a sleepy but very interested expression. The arm you were lying on curled around your waist and pulled you close to him. You looked into his eyes with a soft smile, and then pressed your lips to the heated skin of his neck.

“You're so warm,” you whispered.

“I do it on purpose so you'll cuddle up to me,” he mumbled.

“It's working,” you replied, kissing a little lower on his neck and then down his shoulder. “Were you having a good dream?”

He buried his face in your hair and kissed your head. “Mm-hmm. Dreamin’ about you. This is even better.”

You dragged your tongue lightly over his chest, then kissed your way down his abdomen, shifting positions as you went, first to straddle his thigh, and finally to kneel between his legs. He moaned and writhed beneath you, his chest heaving with the force of his ragged breath. Your hands roamed over his body, smoothing across his skin, and you felt hot arousal begin to pool between your thighs as you caressed him. 

You trailed a series of playful kisses up the length of his cock, and when you swirled your tongue around him, his hips jerked and he hissed in a breath.

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” he gasped.

His hands came to rest on your head as you took his cock in your mouth—not pulling your hair or controlling your movements, just touching you softly, stroking your cheeks, hair, and neck. 

“You can be rough if you want,” you whispered, dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock as you gazed up at him. 

He shook his head, his eyes glazed with lust, his jaw slack. “This is perfect. You are so kriffin’ good at that.”

You smiled and continued to worship his cock with your hands and mouth until he was gasping and whimpering, his legs flexing and twitching on either side of you.

“Is this how you want to come?” you asked softly, releasing his cock from your mouth and admiring the glossy sheen that coated his skin.

He shook his head. “I want you.”

“You’re having me,” you smiled.

“I want to fuck you,” he panted. “I want you to ride me. Please, baby.”

You never could resist him when he begged. You crawled up his body, and he slid his hand between your thighs. 

“Holy kriff,” he said, looking up at you with wide eyes as his fingers glided through your slick arousal. “Is this just from sucking my cock?”

“I like to make you feel good,” you murmured. “And I missed you. A lot.”

He slipped his finger effortlessly into your cunt. “God damn.”

He played with you gently, his thumb teasing your clit as he worked you slowly with his thick finger, and you dropped your forehead to rest on his chest as you balanced on all fours. 

“You ready?” he whispered into your hair.

You nodded, your head still against his chest. He withdrew his hand from you and guided your hips as you moved to straddle him. Wet as you were, and even with his cock still slick from your tongue, it was still an incredible stretch to take him, and you exhaled slowly, relaxing your body as he leisurely pressed into you.

“Look how fuckin’ beautiful you are,” he breathed, awed. He stroked his hands up your body to play with your breasts. “Such perfect tits.”

Once you’d taken him fully, he pulled you down to rest on his body, wrapping you in the warm, strong embrace of his arms as you rode him, deep and slow.

“I’m so happy you’re home,” you sighed contentedly.

“Gods, me too. I never want to leave.”

“I wish you could stay…” you whispered, burying your face against his neck.

“Hey,” he soothed you, cupping the back of your head in his large, warm hand. “Hey, it’s okay. Come here.”

His kiss was soft at first. Just the lightest touch of his lips against yours. When he slid his tongue into your mouth, you took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing your mind to focus on the present, on the feeling of him inside you, on the taste of his lips and the scent of his skin and the thunderous pulse of his heart—his amazing, enormous, beautiful heart—as your breasts pressed against his chest. 

You took your time, holding each other close, luxuriating in the time you had together. He thrust into you slowly, rocking his powerful thighs with incredible precision, finding the perfect angle and then driving himself into you again and again, building your pleasure gradually. 

“I’m close—” you gasped.

“I know,” he said, keeping that same slow, steady rhythm, refusing to rush your climax.

“I’m so fucking close—please!”

He slid his hand down to the base of your spine and pressed you hard against him as he thrust into you, finally speeding up just enough to push you past your limit. You came with a scream that immediately became a sob, your body convulsing violently around him as tears stung your eyes and overflowed. He fucked you hard through your orgasm and quickly followed you, spilling deep inside your cunt, the heat of his release nearly enough to make you come a second time. 

As your body relaxed against him, he massaged his hands gently up and down your back, his cock remaining deep inside you as it softened. After a few moments, you nuzzled your face against his neck.

“I made dinner,” you murmured.

“Holy fuck, I love you so much.”

Interested in more Jesse smut? I have a couple of spicy fics that you might enjoy: "Tup à Trois" (Tup x Reader x Jesse) and "She's Such a Scream" (Jesse x Reader; please heed the warnings on this one - it's sad).

#arc trooper jesse #arc trooper jesse x reader #jesse x reader #star wars #clone wars #sw tcw fanfic #dystopicjumpsuit writes #x reader #fluff #jesse smut #Spotify

[crosshairlovebot]

in the dreaming comes the warmth / the domino twins

characters: echo & fives (NOT CLONEC*ST)

description: the ache of missing fives leaves a hole in echo's chest that only his brother's warmth can fill.

warnings: angst. loss. grief. mourning. echo is still grieving despite being part of clone force 99. it's not mentioned, but i imagine this particular moment of pain is triggered by crosshair's chip activation and leaving him behind on kamino.

this was a request from a lovely twitter mutual who wanted a hug between echo and fives <3 i haven't written for echo before so i hope i did him justice. also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3

Echo knew he was dreaming when he recognised the bright white hallways of Tipoca City, which in the waking world sat submerged in the Kaminoan oceans to fade into rust forever. The hallways were as familiar to him as the curves of his face, memorised and so burned into his memory it was no real shock that he could navigate them as he did now in his sleep.

Echo walked through the corridors, passing what he knew were squads of his fellow troopers with faces identical to his, except his dreaming made them blurry, not fully formed. He passed the gangly Kaminoan’s, their large eyes prominent in the haze of their figures, which seemed to blend with the clinical white of the walls. He didn’t exactly know where he was walking until his feet took him to the junior cadet barracks, the ones he and his brothers shared in their brief childhood.

It was surreal seeing it now, as he walked in, the shapes of the beds and the curves of the walls more defined than the hallways, more distinct in his mind. He took it all in, breathing in the scentless air. The last time he was here, he didn’t even have his name yet – none of them did.

The beds were so much smaller than he remembered. He smiled and sat down on one. He ran a hand he shouldn’t have over the cloth blanket, its fibers feeling as familiar as his own skin. An ache formed in his chest for all he had lost.

The door whooshed open, and his head shot in the direction of the noise. It was then he saw himself run in and climb onto the nearest bed, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face in his arms.

Echo blinked in surprise.

His child self was curled into a ball, as tight as he could manage, and Echo could only see the curly dark hair of his head. He remembered he used to do that when he got overwhelmed, but he couldn’t remember when he stopped. He watched his child self grip onto the sleeves of his standard issue cadet uniform tightly, the knuckles on his little hands white.

His child self didn’t see him and made no moves to show that he knew Echo was there at all. It was strange to see himself like this. To see a snapshot of the person he was for a short amount of time.

Echo slowly stood up, the urge to know what it was that made his child self cry when the door opened again, and his breath got caught in his throat and his eyes stung when he saw who it was that stepped in the door.

This was not just a dream, but a memory.

Fives’s tiny face was the same as his had been, except his brother’s seemed to be perpetually twisted into a smirk, and if it wasn’t, it itched at the corners of his mouth, ready to bloom at a moment’s notice. But his face now held no impishness, instead, his small brows were furrowed as his gaze landed on his brother’s curled-up body on the bed.

“Hey, 21-0408, why the long face?”

Echo had to sit down and cover his mouth with a hand to stop the sob that dared to escape his throat. His brother’s voice, albeit that of his child self, felt so incredibly comforting. He thought he’d never hear it again, even if it was that little boy’s voice that all clones had as young cadets. To Echo, it just sounded like him; like Fives; like it did in his fuzzy memories.

His childhood had been a fleeting blur of training programs and accelerated growth, so he didn’t remember much of it. But he didn’t forget moments like this, where his brother’s love had engulfed him.  

Echo watched his child self slowly peek his eyes out from his arms at his older brother.

“Go away,” Little Echo mumbled.

“Come on, 21-0408,” Little Fives said and climbed up onto the bed next to him, trying to pry open his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Little Echo ripped his arm away and wiped his tear-stained face and nose with his sleeve. Echo grimaced as he saw the dark line that now appeared on the red fabric. He forgot kids could be gross sometimes, even himself.

“I said, go away, 27-5555,” Little Echo grumbled. “I want to be alone.”

Little Echo had no idea just how much time he would spend alone.

“Why?” Of course, Fives never let up about anything, even as a child.

Little Echo scowled at his shoes on the bed. “I…I keep messing up…”

“This module is hard, vod’ika,” Little Fives placed a hand on Little Echo’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Fives was barely older than Echo, but his older brother never let him forget it. With the Mando’a nickname ‘little brother’ sticking to Echo for practically as long as he’d known Fives. He pretended to hate it, and he’d give anything to hear it again. So, hearing it now, Echo’s heart seized. He wanted to grab his younger self by the shoulders and tell him to treasure the nickname; to never roll his eyes and pretend to hate it; to call Fives ori’vod in return because he knew he’d get a kick out of it.

“But everyone’s good at this module except me…” Little Echo voiced quietly, not entirely convinced.

Echo tried to wrack his brain for what module his younger self was talking about, but his dreaming made it too hazy to pinpoint; like if his subconscious ventured too far away from the scene in front of him it would fizzle away, and his dream would move onto something else. And he wanted to stay in this for as long as he could.

“You’ll get it eventually; it just takes practice,” Little Fives reassured.

“I’m going to fail…and never be a soldier…” his younger self sniffled. Echo saw his eyes gloss over again with unshed tears.

“Don’t talk like that,” Little Fives chastised, punching him lightly in the shoulder, a furious look on his face. “You’ll be fine. I’ll help you.”

Little Echo’s face lit up with hope. “You will?”

Little Fives nodded. “That’s what brothers do. We look out for each other; have each other’s backs.”

Echo watched his younger self sniffle as he looked at his older brother, who gave him a reassuring smile.

“Promise?” he said.

“Promise,” Little Fives said with so much conviction, that it made Echo’s heart squeeze again. He was always so sure of everything, never faltering – not even for a second. Once Fives believed in something, he didn’t waver. Ever.

Little Echo smiled, and wrapped his arms around his brother, who hugged him tightly. Echo watched them embrace, anchoring themselves to each other. He didn’t realise he was crying until he felt a tear fall on his hands in his lap. He reached up to wipe them away, scoffing lightly at himself.

“Hey, Echo, why the long face?”

Echo’s heart seemed to expand and stop as he turned around, seeing Fives standing there behind him several metres away. He turned back to where their younger selves sat on the bed and saw they had vanished, that the room had melted away into a long bright endless plane.

“Fives?” Echo wiped his face again and he saw Fives grin at him, before walking over. Echo blinked around the tears to take the sight of him. His figure was much clearer than anything else he’d seen so far in his dreams. Fives was adorned in his ARC trooper armour; helmet tucked under his arm with a proud smile stretched across his face. He willed his subconscious to stay in this moment, that it would be cruel to rip him from it with no warning. He needed time with him.

“Don’t look so happy to see me,” Fives joked when he came closer, his mouth quirked in that smirk that was so incredibly familiar seeing it felt like coming home.

Echo laughed tearfully. “Your ugly face is just so scary, I can’t help but cry.”

Fives threw his head back in a loud guffaw before punching Echo lightly on the arm. “It’s good to see you, vod’ika.”

Echo’s heart filled with so much warmth at the affection. “Good to see you too, Fives.”

Fives smiled at him before Echo asked, “What are you doing here?”

Fives didn’t respond, he just looked at Echo thoughtfully. Echo cleared his throat and shook his head. “When they found me on Skako Minor and you weren’t with them…”

He felt Fives’s heavy hand land on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I know. But I’m here now.”

Echo felt his lip tremble and he willed himself to take a breath. “I missed so much time with you.”

Fives shook his head. “Don’t think about that.”

“How can I not? I missed everything. I missed…”

“I wouldn’t have wanted you to see that anyway.”

He didn’t need to say the words for Echo to know what he was referring to.

“I…I would’ve believed you.”

“Then you would be dead too.”

Clones were conditioned not to linger on the losses of their fellow brothers. It was the nature of what they were bred for. Born knowing they would die. They were taught to take a moment to mourn, then to keep going. There was no time to let the grief linger in war.

But this was much harder than Echo had been conditioned to think.

Echo’s grief for losing Fives was too complicated for that. Echo lost Fives after the fact. He was mourning him outside of the mourning period, outside of the war. And it was something he didn’t know how to handle. The grief could sit for longer, dawdle almost now that there wasn’t another mission to focus on instead. And it was painful. A never-ending agony that oscillated between a dull ache to suffocating sharpness in the hole of his chest.

Fives had been a constant in his life, from cadets to losing their squad on Rishi Moon, to joining Rex in the 501st, all the way until the fateful night of the Citadel rescue. Fives had been there for all of it. Even thereafter, in the brief lucid moments in cryostasis on Skako, his thoughts would drift to his ori’vod. So, to be released into that mourning, to realise he was free, but without his beloved brother by his side was lonelier than stasis had been.

And hearing how exactly Fives met his end had not made it any easier. It was the unfairest of deaths, and that knowledge almost hurt more. That he wasn’t there. How if he had been, it may have gone differently.

There were so many moments where Echo would think of something he wanted to tell Fives, only to realise a moment later that he couldn’t. It was a cycle of remembering he was gone. Those milliseconds of bliss, before he remembered, were bookended by the searing hurt. And there was no one to share that hurt with.

Rex was elusive in his hiding and had gone through his mourning period. And though Clone Force 99 had provided him with a home, a comradery, that he was grateful for, they had not lost anyone the way Echo had lost Fives. They didn’t fully understand.

Echo just wanted the one person who understood him, who knew him inside and out.

In other, much less complicated words, Echo missed Fives so, so much.

And at those lowest moments when he missed him; when the aching felt never-ending and moving forward felt futile, Echo imagined what it would’ve been like had they both found their ends together. How much easier it would’ve been on his heart, to know that his brother was with him even in death. That if there was an afterlife, it would be spent together. That their hearts had stopped at the same time, one not forced to go on without the other helping keep it in rhythm.

The galaxy had not been so kind to grant him that.

“I…I know,” Echo replied quietly, his throat thick.

He watched Fives’ face study him for a moment before his brow settled into a crease, and his hand tightened on Echo’s shoulder. “Echo…don’t be sad.”

Echo looked at him with disbelief. He could see all the texture in his face and feel the puff of breath against his nose. It was as if he wasn’t dreaming at all. “How…how can I not be sad? You’re not here.”

“No, but you are. You have a second chance, Echo. A second chance to live.”

Echo shook his head. “You should be here too.”

“Maybe. But my path was different to yours. You finally get a chance to choose what you do with your life. Nobody else; you, vod’ika. That freedom I was fighting for? You have it now. You have for both of us. Do something good with it. Something we’d both be proud of.”

Echo looked at his brother searching his face for something he couldn’t name. Maybe he wasn’t searching at all, but memorising. Memorising the look Fives was giving him now; the pride, the unwavering belief he had in him. He hadn’t seen it in such a long time. No one had expected anything of him in just as long.

“Promise me you will, Echo.”

He didn’t even need to think about it. “I promise.”

Echo could feel the waking world calling him, so before Fives faded away, he wrapped his arms around his brother. Fives dropped his helmet and didn’t hesitate to embrace Echo back. Arms tightly holding each other, hearts pressed together and beating in time. Echo could feel Fives’s solid chest and his warmth as if he were awake. Everything felt right in the brief, brief moment. That anchor had returned. That pain in his heart had dulled in his dreaming and been replaced with the warmth of his brother he’d been wishing for. He gripped the edges of his brother’s armour, afraid to let go, to leave this moment. But knew he had to. He’d made a promise.

“I love you, Fives,” he choked out.

He felt Fives’s palm run over his hair as he spoke against his ear. “I know. I love you too. Remember, I’m looking out for you.”

Echo jolted awake. His chest heaved as he tried to remember where he was, and his body ached like it just run a marathon. Across the small corridor, Wrecker slept, soft snores sounding. The nightlight in Omega’s space glowed softly through the curtains, and Hunter had fallen asleep on the floor, his back leaning on the wall next to the ladder, no doubt guarding their sister’s bad dreams. He could hear Tech tinkering away in the cockpit, on watch as they flew through hyperspace. Where was Crosshair?

Oh. Right.

Echo ran a hand over his face and turned towards the wall, his eyes stinging with tears. He curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his middle, ignoring the bulk of his scomp. He tried to preserve the warmth he felt from his dreams which threatened to evaporate in the chill of hyperspace. He pressed his eyes shut, willing himself to go back into that dream, to return to Fives and get one last look at him, but it was no use. He was here. And Fives was there, or somewhere.

It could’ve been a few minutes or an hour when he heard a voice. “Echo?”

He turned to see Tech looking down at him in his bunk, adjusting his goggles. “What is it, Tech?”

“I’m afraid it’s your turn on watch.”

“Great. Thanks,” Echo grumbled.

He tried to inconspicuously wipe his eyes as he swung his metal legs out of the bunk and stood up, stretching his neck. He watched Tech remove his goggles and rub his eyes and sat down on the edge of Echo’s bunk. They had limited space, and Echo didn’t mind sharing.

“Sweet dreams,” Echo told him as Tech lay down, falling asleep almost immediately, as he tended to do.

Echo walked to the cockpit and shut the door so the light from their travels wouldn’t disturb the others. He sat in the pilot’s seat and sighed, putting his head in his hand, no hair on his head to clasp as he tried to recentre himself. He took in some steady breaths, focusing on a screw in the floor panelling. He did everything he could to quell the turning of his stomach and the throbbing in his chest. Just as quickly as it had filled in his dream, the waking world had returned that giant hole in his chest, seemingly aware that something had filled it again briefly, and now it felt the absence more.

When would this feeling of emptiness end?

The Marauder shifted in its hyperspace travels, tilting off course slightly, triggering some alarms. Echo immediately sprang into action, and his hand and scomp grabbed the controls to steady the ship. With a frown, he checked the stabilisers and saw they needed recalibrating. Didn’t Tech just deal with this after they’d left Ordo Moon mere hours ago? He tried and failed not to get annoyed – he just needed to fix this, and quickly so they didn’t veer off course and fall into a star. He sighed, knowing they’d have to come out of hyperspace for these repairs. Maybe the ship had been more damaged than he thought.

Echo slowly pulled back the hyperdrive lever and the ship came to a halt in open space. He hoped no one woke up with the disturbance and that this wouldn’t take long. They didn’t have time to waste. He placed the Marauder in idle whilst he scomped in and started recalibrating. It was a lot easier now that Tech had upgraded his cerebral interface, so there was less strain on him. He was able to scomp in and load up the commands without much effort. As the commands processed through the system, he watched the stabilisers respond and recalibrate in his mind’s eye.

It was then he felt a shiver run up his spine.

A monitor beeped, interrupting his realignment, and Echo looked at a screen searching for the alert among the pop-ups when he noticed the time.

05:55. Echo’s breath hitched.

He heard the door behind him slide open but didn’t look away from the monitor. He couldn’t.

“Everything okay in here? I felt something,” Hunter’s voice thick with sleep asked.

Echo kept his gaze on the numerals, and he allowed himself to smile, that warmth he’d been longing for slowly filling the hole in his chest.

“It will be,” he told Hunter.

Fives was keeping his promise, so Echo would too.

banner art by @vimse thank you for reading! <3

🏷️ @starrylothcat @32rotations @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @ladyanidala @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @snarky-mans-gf @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @rexamongthestars @r2d2staser @bluebird-dreams @pb-jellybeans @a-streakofblue @theawkwardartist12 @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo @ezras-left-thumb @lovelycurls

TAGLIST FORM

#larissa writes #the bad batch fic #echo fic #echo bad batch fic #domino twins fic #fives fic #the bad batch angst #clone trooper fic #clone trooper angst #501st fic #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #tbb echo fic #gen fic #what even are the tags for a gen fic on here

[wizardofrozz]

Fire and Rain

Commander Wolffe x GN!reader, OC Sawbones

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: war, death, mention of violence, grief, soft Wolffe

A/N: I had a bad day and all I want is to listen to the rain while Wolffe comforts me. So that's how this fic came to be lmao. I hope you enjoy 🖤

Humanitarian missions were some of your favorites. You spent most of your time in the medbay, patching up troopers and avoiding the piercing eyes of the CMO. These missions allowed you to get off the Venator, to see something other than cold durasteel walls or Coruscant’s light-polluted skyline. Although, it wasn’t all joy and happiness. 

The small village was still smoking, crumbled buildings littering the streets. What was once a quaint town had been reduced to ash and rubble. Family homes and community trademarks were unrecognizable and the occupants could only stand by and stare longingly. 

The 104th had been tasked with delivering supplies, offering medical assistance, and searching for hazardous materials from the crash. The Separatist ship had broken apart in the atmosphere but it was close enough for it to start raining down debris on the unsuspecting villagers shortly after. You glanced around as the Wolfpack made their way into the heart of the town, your eyes lingering on the tents scattered around. A small child stood at the edge of the road, wide-eyed wonder written all over his face as troopers wandered past. His young face was streaked with soot but nothing could dampen the amazement shining in his bright eyes.

“Hey.” You jumped, turning toward the voice only to stare back at your own reflection in his visor. You couldn’t fight the urge to glance back at the child one last time before giving Wolffe your undivided attention. 

“Yes, Commander,” you replied, hoping the smile you offered didn’t look as forced as it felt. Even if you couldn’t see them, you could feel Wolffe’s eyes studying your face and you did your best not to buckle under the weight. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Wolffe replied and if you weren’t walking so close, you would’ve missed his soft sigh. Wolffe subtly turned his head, glancing around at the troopers walking in loose formation around him. The ghost of a smile crossed your face when you felt the muted brush of his fingers against your arm. 

“I’m alright,” you murmured, lightly bumping into him.

“For now,” he replied, almost quiet enough for you to miss. And he was right. Each step deeper into the smoldering remains of the village made your heart sink a little more. You took a long, deep breath, grimacing at the burnt taste that seemed to linger on your tongue. The second brush against your arm had you peering over at Wolffe, staring into his dark visor again as you blindly found his hand. He squeezed your fingers, a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone and you cherished the contact. 

It was going to be a long day.

It felt like you were going to fall over with the slightest gust of wind. Most of your day consisted of patching up the wounded in between passing out supplies. Everyone from children to the elderly had passed through your tent and each new person felt like another gut punch, draining more of your resolve. 

You glanced over your shoulder, noting that Sawbones was moving a bit slower too, and you braced your hands on the table in front of you. Staying in the med tent had let you keep your blinders on, saving yourself the heartache of watching of few of your boys carrying the lifeless bodies out of the rubble but you weren’t sure if it was actually better. Instead of seeing who you couldn’t save, you had to look into the eyes of the people they left behind. A small part of you found joy in helping them but nothing could take away the veil of grief that seemed the blanket them all. 

A harsh whistle cut through the air, making you jump hard enough to knock a box of bacta patches to the floor. You twisted around to find Sawbones watching you, his eyes narrowed slightly. 

“Yes, Bones,” you huffed, resting your hip against the table and crossing your arms. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You were too drained to contain your eye rolls, although, Sawbones’ blunt nature was nothing new to you. 

“Long day, same as you,” you replied, arching a brow. 

“That’s not all,” he countered, squinting at you. “Sp-” 

The sudden roar of voices from outside cut off the rest of his sentence and you both straightened. You shared a confused look with him before you broke into a jog with Sawbones on your heels. You sputtered the second you stumbled outside, blinking rapidly as you looked upward. The sky was hazing, a thick fog hanging over the village as rain pelted the ground, extinguishing the last of the fires littering the area. It took a few seconds for you to realize that the noise you had heard was the villagers celebrating. 

People of all ages were standing outside, smiling and cheering, rain soaking them to the bone but that didn’t seem to matter. Something as simple as a storm that, to you, would’ve felt like another kick to the face brought such joy to a village that nearly burned to the ground. You looked to your left, meeting Sawbones’ eyes before he looked out over the celebrating villagers. You could’ve sworn there was a faint smile on his face.

“Go rest. There’s nothing else we can do for them,” Sawbones murmured without looking at you. 

You thought about staying there but the rain was picking up, steadily soaking your clothing. Walking through the pockets of people filling the streets brought a wistful smile to your face, a smile that only grew as you watched the wolfpack join in. You found a supply tent on the edge of the settlement and ducked inside, shaking off any excess water clinging to your clothing.

The fabric of your shirt stuck to your skin, sending a chill across your skin. You wrapped your arms around yourself, glancing around at the crates of supplies, brightening a bit when you caught a glimpse of a GAR-issued blanket. The fabric was rough, meant for warmth over comfort but it was better than nothing. You wrapped the blanket around your shoulders as you wandered to the front of the tent again, holding the edges of the blanket under your chin so you could roll one of the flaps up. 

Lightning spiderwebbed across the sky, followed quickly by a loud clap of thunder that seemed to vibrate through your bones. There were easily a dozen things you could be doing but something about watching the unmatchable power of Mother Nature had you captivated. 

You were so absorbed in watching the rain that you didn’t hear the faint rustle from over your shoulder. A choked-off gasp fell from your lips and you tensed against the arms that wrapped around you. Your sluggish brain spiraled for a moment until you recognized the familiar vambraces and you sagged against him. 

“Hiding from all the fun, sweetheart,” Wolffe rumbled, kissing the crown of your head. 

“Says the man wearing a body glove that keeps him dry,” you teased, leaning back against Wolffe. 

“Mostly dry,” he corrected, his voice muffled as he hid his face against your neck. 

“Oh sorry, mostly dry.” The stress of your day still weighed heavily on you but the familiar press of Wolffe’s armor against your back brought you more comfort than you realized. A small smile lifted the corner of your mouth when he started to gently sway and you reached up to card through his damp hair. 

“How are you, darling?” And if that wasn’t a loaded question. You sighed, resting your temple against his head, letting yourself get lost in the rhythmic side-to-side movement for a moment. 

“I don’t know,” you finally confessed. Wolffe grunted quietly, urging you to continue. “I wish I could’ve done more.”

“You couldn’t have,” he argued gently, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I know,” you whispered, letting your hand slip out of his hair and down his face. Your fingers brushed the end of his scar and you leaned away, twisting around enough to see his face. 

“Hey, cyare,” he murmured with a half-smile. 

“Hey,” you breathed, resting your forehead against his with a sigh and letting your eyes fall shut.

“I know you wish you could save everyone,” Wolffe mumbled, pausing to kiss your nose, “but you can’t. However, you did a whole lot of good for the people that are still here.”

“You think so?” You squeezed your eyes shut as you turned to face him, loosely hugging his waist. 

“I know so,” Wolffe said with so much conviction that you had a hard time not believing him. You hugged him a little tighter when he shifted and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. “That bleeding heart of yours is one of the many reasons I love you.” 

“So you do have a list.” Wolffe’s quiet snort brought a smile to your face. The light tap on the underside of your chin had your eyes fluttering open, staring up at his mismatched eyes. There was a fond little smile on his lips as his eyes flickered around your face. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Before you could answer with another lighthearted remark, Wolffe leaned down, finding your lips with ease. It was a tender kiss yet it held an intensity that you’d come to expect from Wolffe. You broke the kiss when your lungs burned, desperate for oxygen, and you rested your forehead against his again. 

“I love you,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I love you too.” Wolffe pecked your lips, starting to sway gently again, the pitter-patter of rain on the canvas tent acting as a melody.

The stress and heartache weren’t gone, far from it, but in that moment, wrapped in the arms of the man you loved, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The promise of a future that made all the pain worth it.

Taglist: @a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @msmeredithrose @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar (I thought you might like this 🫣)

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x gn!reader #commander wolffe #cc-3636 #star wars #the clone wars #commander wolffe fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #OC: CT-2697 Sawbones

[ghostofskywalker]

Hello I was wondering if I could request a fluffy wrecker x gn reader that includes Lula? I have my own Lula Plush and yes I have become attached.

this did get slightly angstier than i originally intended, but there is hopefully still enough fluff for you :)

words: 1,332

summary: after a bad dream wakes you up in the middle of the night, wrecker comforts you.

clone troopers masterlist

Nightmare Repellent

“You are a traitor to the Republic,” one of the troopers was saying, his blaster raised high and directly at your head. He had no helmet on, and there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t recognize, despite having worked with him since the beginning of the war. You couldn’t help but selfishly hope that there was a way out of this where you didn’t have to hurt the men you formed battlefield bonds with, but as more of your battalion raised their weapons and joined the droning chant, you had to be a little realistic. You clutched your lightsaber, trying to figure out a way you could back away and not have to hurt anyone.

Using Force to pull a blaster away from one of the men, you quickly set it stun before firing. They began to fire back at you, but the rounds coming from their blasters were not as kind as the ones coming from yours. As more and more of your men dropped the floor, you desperately began to race through the cruiser. There were a few ships that you could escape in, and once you got to hyperspace things would be a little easier, the most intense danger abated for a little while.

Your lightsaber deflected their shots as you ran, and you continued to stun the troopers as they surged closer and closer. It was a stroke of luck that this cruiser was only operating on a skeleton crew, because you didn’t know what you would have done if the entire battalion had been coming after you at this point.

“Stop right there, Jedi.” The cold and steely voice of your commander filled the room. He had apparently been missed in your stunning, and run to meet you by the landing bays. Your heart clenched at the way he addressed you. Despite the fact that he no longer spoke in the fun and carefree tone you were used to, the lack of your name in his words was what really broke you. Now, you were nothing but another Jedi to him, and you had no idea why this was happening.

But you knew enough not to listen to him. The sound of a blaster firing filled the room, and you felt the burn in your lower leg. Right as you turned to face him, lightsaber in one hand and blaster in the other, the whole world went black.

Your eyes opened with a start, and you immediately took in your surroundings. Your bunk on the Marauder was a lot more comfortable than the cold durasteel innards of the Republic cruiser you had just been looking at. It was all just a dream.

It made sense now, because that wasn’t how the story ended. You had ended up escaping (you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t), and you had managed to stun your commander before escaping into the vast expanses of space, your life now completely different and the family you had before the war completely gone.

Your breathing was heavy and you could feel the sweat on your body, despite the fact that space was usually cold and the blanket you had was not that thick. You closed your eyes and tried to remind yourself that you were safe, that you weren’t actually on that cruiser, and that there was no reason for you to be afraid right now.

Hoping that no one else had heard your heavy breaths, you got out of your bunk and walked over to the small chiller on the other side of the room, where you pulled a small canteen of water out and downed the entire thing. When you finally pulled the container from your lips, you heard a voice break through the raging thoughts in your head. It took you a few moments to realize that someone was speaking to you, and you turned a bit sharply in the direction of the sound, only to see Wrecker sitting up in his bunk, a slightly confused expression on his face. “What did you say?” you asked softly, knowing that you probably had the expression of a tooka in headlights right now.

“I asked if you were okay,” he responded, voice uncharacteristically soft.

There was no doubt in your mind that Wrecker was your favorite member of the Bad Batch, and you were already harboring a bit of a crush on the squad’s demolition expert. Now, wrapped in a blanket and with a worried look on his face, you only felt your affection for him grow.

It took you a moment to decide what to even say to that, and eventually “I will be,” is what you settled on. “I just had a nightmare, that’s all.”

Wrecker nodded. “Do you want Lula?”

You shook your head at the offer, not wanting to take Wrecker’s beloved tooka doll away from him. “No thank you,” you said.

“Come on, she has magical nightmare-repelling powers!”

“Exactly, what if you have a nightmare while I’m borrowing her?”

Wrecker laughed, then quickly went quiet as he realized his brothers were still sleeping. “You don’t need to worry,” he said. “I don’t have nightmares often anymore.”

“But still,” you said. “With my luck, this would be the one night.”

“I’ve given her to Omega before and everything’s been fine,” Wrecker said. “Or we could always share her power.”

It didn’t take you long to catch on to what Wrecker was suggesting, and your mouth dropped open. You desperately wanted to say yes and crawl into his bunk with him, but something still stopped you. “I don’t want to get in the way,” you said softly, looking back towards your empty bunk, the blanket balled up from where you had practically ripped it off you after the nightmare.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t know.”

“I know what it’s like to have a nightmare,” he said. “Maybe if you’re in another bunk, it won’t come back.”

Eventually you knew he wouldn’t let this go, so you nodded and tried to hide your smile at the grin that stretched across his face. Or at least, that’s the reasoning you gave your pesky internal monologue when it started to point out that you would most likely be fine in your own bunk. No, this definitely wasn’t because you had feelings for him, shut up! You walked past the rest of the sleeping batchers and tentatively got into Wrecker’s bunk, settling under the blanket as he laid down after you. Lula was gently placed in your arms and you squeezed the doll gently as you closed your eyes and tried to go back to sleep, the comforting presence of Wrecker beside you.

The next morning, you opened your eyes to see that you moved a lot closer to Wrecker during the night. His arm was slung over your abdomen while you curled into his chest, still tightly clutching Lula like she was going to fly away at any moment. He didn’t appear to be awake yet, so you decided to revel in the warmth and comfort for a little while longer. Reality could wait.

Right as you closed your eyes and started to drift back off to sleep, you heard the frantic voice of Echo in the background, and you could have sworn you heard your name. Before you could make any noise or move to show them that you were in fact still there (and that nothing bad had happened to you), Hunter took care of the issue. “Everything’s fine, don’t worry.”

“But-”

“Trust me.” Footsteps echoed across the floor, but you kept your eyes closed and your body still the entire time. You were still tired, and you weren’t really in the mood to answer questions about why you and Wrecker were cuddling. “Let’s let them sleep for a little while.”

Echo mumbled something in agreement, and the two sets of footsteps moved away, leaving you to finally fall back asleep, the nightmares long gone and never coming back.  

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

#tbb wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x you #wrecker x reader #wrecker x you #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #clone trooper x reader

[wolveria]

On Frozen Wings - Ch 5

Pairing: Crosshair x Hunter

Rating: 18+ only, Explicit

Hunter and Crosshair deal with the aftermath of Ventress' beatdown the best way they know how.

AO3

Hunter hit the pillow face-first, a loud, shameless groan leaving him.

Crosshair landed on the pillow next to him, his wince visible as he laid on his back and stared at the ceiling.

“Ow,” Hunter supplied helpfully. Crosshair snorted.

“We’ve both taken worse. And don’t tell me you didn’t have fun.”

Hunter declined to comment. Crosshair sent him a sideways glance.

“How’s your stomach?” he asked in a way that made it seem like he didn’t care. Hunter smiled a little.

“No broken ribs, so, not bad. How’s your head?”

“Still attached to my neck.”

With how hard Ventress had slammed her boot into the side of Crosshair’s head, that was a small miracle.

And yeah, it had been enjoyable to fight an opponent hand-to-hand who was so skilled, better than any of them. But when she’d put Crosshair in a hold that might prove dangerous, Hunter’s instincts had taken over, and he’d unsheathed his vibroblade without conscious thought.

A lot of good that had done. Crosshair had ended up semi-unconscious, Wrecker choked in midair, and Hunter with a laser sword pointed at his face.

“You know the only reason the Jedi lost is because the regs got the jump on them,” Hunter commented quietly. That, and the generals had genuinely seemed to care about the troopers under their charge. Hunter wouldn’t be surprised if a reluctance to murder their own men had stayed the Jedi from responding with immediate lethal force.

Crosshair grunted but didn’t say anything further. They hadn’t spoken about what happened on Kaller, but Hunter could sense his discomfort. Shooting at the Padawan was probably on his list of mistakes. Hunter had his own regrets with being unable to protect the kid. Jedi or not, he’d been a child.

A child on a battlefield. In hindsight, there were many things about the war that filled Hunter with a soft kind of horror.

He didn’t realize Crosshair was staring at him until the silence went on for too long. Hunter sent him a questioning look, replaying the conversation to see if there had been a comment he’d missed.

Instead of explaining anything, the sniper rolled over onto him, sprawled across Hunter’s back like a warm blanket, or an especially large feline.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Crosshair said in a lazy drawl, his lips equally unhurried as they traced over Hunter’s neck.

He shivered and pressed his face into the pillow to prevent any sounds from escaping. He should be too tired for this, but his full cock pressed into the mattress begged to differ. They hadn’t done any… touching… since the night Crosshair put his mouth on him. They’d been too exhausted each night after a day of hard labor. Shep hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d put them to work if they really wanted, and they’d been helping build new houses along the top of the island.

Each house had to be crafted by hand machine, made of a hard mixture with the white sands found around the island. It was a painstaking process, but Shep said the houses would last several lifetimes and weather anything but tsunamis.

He was happy to help, but most days, Hunter barely made it to the bed before falling asleep.

Which had been great for him, as chronically sleep deprived as he was. But it seemed to be a point of frustration for Crosshair, and Hunter sometimes caught him staring as he hoisted up buckets of sand mixture. Especially on hot days when Hunter was stripped down to the waist.

His lips twitched. Maybe if Crosshair got frustrated enough, he’d stop trying to make Hunter the focus of attention and actually let himself feel good. First time for everything.

“And what should I be doing?” Hunter asked, raising his hips to rub against Crosshair’s erection, and—all right, so maybe Hunter was a bit keyed up from the fight too. These things happened, it was natural, and reminded him too much of their cadet sparring days.

“Depends,” Crosshair purred.

“On?”

“How do you want it?”

Not the first time he’d been asked, and even though Crosshair slowly grinding against his ass felt nice—really nice—he still hesitated. Hunter wasn’t used to new territory, at least when it came to himself.

With Crosshair, he wanted to dive right in, explore his brother and find the secret, hidden things that would make him lose his composure. Hunter knew they existed, he’d caught a glimpse on the Remora, which was why it was so frustrating that Crosshair was making him the focus of these explorations.

Hunter wondered if it was because he was inexperienced. It was surprisingly sweet that Crosshair was trying to take it slow for him, and it was also steadily driving him insane.

Crosshair must have come to his own conclusions from the silence. The wrong ones. He started to pull away, but Hunter grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him.

“I… know what I want,” Hunter said, his voice raspier than he meant it to be. Crosshair looked at him carefully, and this time, the right conclusions were drawn.

“You just don’t know how you want it.”

Hunter nodded, face pressed again into the pillow because it was easier than meeting his eye.

“It’s almost cute,” Crosshair purred, and Hunter growled into the fabric. The sniper lifted off him and smacked him on the ass. “I said ‘almost.’”

Now Hunter really did snarl at him, but Crosshair’s attention was elsewhere, looking for something. When he found it, Hunter’s expression went from bared teeth to wide-eyed surprise.

Crosshair smirked and the small bottle of lube danced between his fingers the way Hunter had watched him deftly handle a toothpick.

“Don’t look so worried. No one’s holes are going to be breached.”

“Oh… kay.”

Hunter didn’t know what to say to that, or the lingering glimmer in Crosshair’s eyes. But when the sniper leaned over his back and pressed his lips to his neck, Hunter cared less what mischief he had in mind.

“Relax,” Crosshair murmured, as if that silky voice would do anything but the exact opposite, setting Hunter’s blood on fire. It certainly didn’t help when he tugged off Hunter’s undershorts and straddled the back of his bare thighs.

Hunter looked over his shoulder to confirm Crosshair was also without pants, only to learn he wasn’t wearing anything. Not a stitch on him, and Hunter groaned and tried to turn over, but the sniper wouldn’t let him.

It was unfair. Finally, Crosshair completely naked, and he couldn’t even get a good look at him.

“Quit squirming,” Crosshair complained. Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one waiting for… whatever was going to happen next.

And then Hunter nearly jumped out his skin as he felt the cold viscous liquid drip onto the backs of his thighs. Crosshair had said he wasn’t going into any holes, but it sure seemed like he was, and Hunter wasn’t sure he would mind if he did.

But still, nerves trembled through him, like a wet animal that had been left out in the cold too long.

Crosshair soothed his hand along the curve of his hip, unusually gentle given his annoyed tone. Hunter tried to relax, he really did, but he still flinched when the lube was spread between his thighs.

Crosshair didn’t touch anywhere else, even though he was so close that it was growing tortuous, and Hunter kept raising his hips, seeking any kind of stimulation he could get.

He was rewarded with another slap on his ass, and he snarled again despite the fact it didn’t really hurt. It wasn’t embarrassment either that made his cheeks hot and his hips press desperately into the mattress, either to get away from another possible slap or for more stimulation.

Hunter froze when Crosshair once again laid on his back, his bare skin scorching—and he needed the rest of his clothes off now. Hunter tugged off the top of his body suit, all that was left after they’d stumbled into the house and taken off their gear, revealing bruised flesh.

Crosshair gave his own irritated growl, though his hands told a different tale as they explored his bare sides and rib cage, as if to leave his own imprints along Hunter’s marred skin.

“Trying to make this easier on you, and you’re not helping.”

“I’m helping plenty,” Hunter bit back. “You gonna hurry up?”

Crosshair let out another animalistic sound, and damn, Hunter needed to get him this riled up again. Despite his sharp tongue and prickly attitude, he rarely let himself lose control. And now that he heard the edge in that voice, Hunter couldn’t stop poking at it, like a tongue to a sore tooth.

“Or do you need a hand back there?”

“Don’t make me put you over my knee,” Crosshair growled, further proving his point. Hunter snorted.

“My ass already took a beating today.”

“It can take more.”

Hunter opened his mouth, but his words died as Crosshair shifted his hips, and with a few adjustments, squeezed his cock between Hunter’s thighs.

He shivered—everything was sensitive against his skin right now—but Hunter was more confused than anything.

“And… this is going to feel good?”

“For me, it is,” Crosshair grunted. And then he pulled Hunter’s hips, tilting them up, while his other hand slid around and grabbed his cock. “Now, relax. Or don’t. It’ll be good either way.”

Hunter let out a noise that was humiliatingly close to a whine, but Crosshair had heard worse than that from him. Undeterred, he tested this new angle, carefully thrusting between his thighs, matching his rhythm with his hand.

Yeah, it was good, but it was also a cruel kind of teasing. Crosshair’s hand was a light touch, and the thrusts felt nice but not like anything in particular. It was as if Crosshair was fucking him, but not fucking him. The signals to his brain were confused, unsure if he should push back or rut forward.

Another whine left his throat as Hunter half-buried his face into the pillow. It was torture, it was pleasure, and Hunter wanted—

An image burned through his thoughts, of flipping them both over, forcing Crosshair onto his back as he nipped at his neck, and then prying his knees apart and lining himself up before plunging in deep.

The scene was so visceral that he groaned in his throat, his cock weeping as he tried, and failed, to make Crosshair move his hand faster.

“Crosshair,” he growled, but the sniper didn’t seem to sense the danger he was in. The answering hum sounded unaffected on the surface, but Hunter could smell the sharpness of arousal, the cock between his thighs hard and slick against his skin.

“Move.”

The sniper let out a low, breathy chuckle at the threat.

“Someone’s… impatient.”

Hunter bit into the pillow so he wouldn’t be tempted to sink teeth into skin—and now that image wouldn’t leave him either. Crosshair’s bare throat on display, unmarked and untouched, just waiting for his teeth to find that perfect place between neck and shoulder—

Hunter let out another growl, this one deep and wild, unnerving even for him. And for some forsaken reason, that seemed to push Crosshair’s buttons; he cursed under his breath and rutted his hips faster, his fingers finally gripping Hunter like he meant it.

His own fingers dug at the sheets as if to tear them to ribbons. His balls ached, his cock so hard it almost hurt, and Crosshair panted in between soft noises that were almost whines. They tugged at something deep, and Hunter knew on an instinctual level he could rip those sounds out of Crosshair into full-blown whimpering cries.

Just a hint of what that would require—holding Crosshair down and biting on the vulnerable flesh of his throat—jettisoned Hunter over the edge.

He clamped his teeth on the pillow, a poor substitute, and came hard. Sparks danced behind his shut eyes and tingled up his spine as he spilled over Crosshair’s hand, neither of them caring about the mess on the sheets.

Something warm splashed between his legs, signaling Crosshair’s own relief, accompanied by the sniper lying boneless against his back. They didn’t say anything for a moment, too busy trying to find their air, and Hunter was too relaxed to move anyway.

An amused huff next to his ear as Crosshair remarked, “Did you rip my pillow?”

Sure enough, the pillow that had met Hunter’s teeth had come out the loser, a tear rent through the fabric. Hunter winced. If he really did plan on biting Crosshair at some point, he would have to be gentler than that.

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“Mmm.”

Crosshair rolled off him in a lazy movement, and Hunter did the same, resting on his back as he winced at the stickiness between his thighs. He almost considered a shower, but he’d probably fall asleep under the spray if he tried.

A small smile crossed his face.

“Figured out what I want now.”

“Goody,” Crosshair mumbled, the sarcasm lost with the words into the pillow. “So glad I could assist.”

Hunter’s smile widened a little more. Crosshair could grumble now because his sarcasm wouldn’t save him later. Not with half the things Hunter had in mind.

Once he felt his legs could support him, Hunter started to get up, and… didn’t think about it. He leaned over, glanced down Crosshair’s naked body with a hunger that was only temporarily sated, and pressed a kiss against his cheek.

Crosshair stiffened, his eyes wide. Hunter himself struggled for something to say, and when nothing came out, he simply moved on and pretended he’d meant to do that. That it was totally normal and not at all like it felt they were toeing a new line.

After he wiped down himself and Crosshair—all while ignoring the sniper’s grumbled protests— he went to cupboard where the clean sheets were kept. Every step sent a wince up his back, and Hunter recalled exactly why it felt like a gunship had been dropped on him. Omega wanted to get to the bottom of her M-count levels, and Ventress supposedly offered her help.

Hunter had eventually given in, to Crosshair’s eternal side eye, and Omega could have one more day for these “tests.” After that, Ventress was gone for good.

Hunter only hoped she would leave without a fight this time. The way his body ached, he didn’t look forward to round two.

Though with the way Crosshair immediately descended on him once they got back into the clean bed, lips and teeth at his neck, Hunter might have to reconsider that statement. He wasn’t the only one that got riled up after a good fight. Thankfully, even Crosshair’s stamina couldn’t recover that quickly, and he didn’t do much more than nip, but it was enough for Hunter to growl and flip him around. He couldn’t sleep with Crosshair’s damn teeth on him, and his cock was making a valiant effort to rally.

Crosshair didn’t seem to mind Hunter’s less than gentle grip, wiggling for a moment before settling back against him, the length of his body perfectly flush against his.

Maybe they have should put some clothing on, but Hunter was loath to move, his nose at Crosshair’s nape, the lingering scent of the shampoo on his skin.

“Weeping maya,” Hunter suddenly said.

“…What.”

“The white blossom. That’s what I smelled.”

“How hard did she crack your head against the ground?”

Hunter hummed a chuckle and closed his eyes.

Next Chapter

#the bad batch #crosshunt #clone shipping #crosshair x hunter #tbb spoilers #tbb season 3 #wolveria writes

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

(hi thank you for being understanding about my question and being cool with doing this!) can I ask for headcanons for somethin like movie night with the 501st? Gender neutral reader is fine

Of course babes. 🩷 We can do movie night any night with the 501st!

Warnings and Information: There’s nothing to do in the barracks tonight, and it’s been a long time since anyone’s seen a good movie. So, throw in like fifteen packets of popcorn in the microwave (one at a time, Hardcase) to get this popcorn poppin’, because the 501st + one good friend is having a movie night! (Once mostly everyone agrees on what to watch, of course…) Blankets, pillows, snacks, and cozy Clone cuddle-piles galore~ Who’s falling asleep first? 😴 2nd person POV with an undescribed reader who has a gender neutral nickname. Bullet point format. We’ll use a little Mando’a, as a treat. Fluff and good feelings all around. Everyone’s happy. Everyone’s safe. 💙

Word count: 1,652

The previews

There’s no paperwork to do, there’s no assignment they need to ship out for in the morning, and they’ve gone ahead and tidied up the bed racks for good measure. They could play some Sabbac to kill the time, but they’ve either lost or misplaced more than half the deck, and they don’t feel like the lights and thumping bass of the local drinking hole tonight. (It’s just not quite the same as 79’s…) Nobody really has the energy to do much of anything, but given their purpose and training as soldiers, they don’t often have nights like this where they simply do… nothing. Being idle leaves a gnawing feeling of discomfort for many in the 501st, so they’re trying to come up with a plan.

“Uh-oh. Hardcase has his thinking face on.” someone mumbles, growing slightly uneasy. 

“I got it. I’m gonna call someone.” Hardcase declares, punching in one of his favorite contacts on the comlink. This makes the ARC troopers slightly nervous. “Not the Captain, I hope-” Fives chimes in warningly. “With any luck he’s just gone to the mess.”

Hardcase shakes his head, grinning broadly before he punches ENTER on the device. “Nah, I’m not calling the Captain right now, I’m callin’ Ember!”

You’re a favorite of the 501st. At least, that’s your theory. 

And through one series of events after the other, you've become well acquainted with them and their antics.

Why else would you possibly need to be commed in the middle of a meal? “Don’t answer that.” Captain Rex advises you. You both barely started eating. It’s not an emergency tone. It can wait. But… maybe you should see who it is, first? “Umm… Hardcase is calling me.” you reply. That means one of two likely scenarios.

Boredom, or trouble.

Specifically future trouble.

(Or he’s in trouble.)

You’re at least going to see how urgently you need to scarf down your meal so the Captain has time to enjoy his for once in three blue moons. “Hello? What's going on Hardcase?” 

“Hey little flame, you wanna do something tonight? We’re bored!”

“Define bored…” You’re gonna regret asking that, you’re sure. “And who’s “we” exactly, Hardcase? How many others are listening?” The jumbled cacophony of names and voices tells you it’s mostly Torrent Company, which you pretty much expected. “... hi Echo and Fives… hello Dogma … hey there Tup, I’m doing okay, thanks… yup, just trying to eat a little dinner, Kix…” 

So why exactly did he call you, you ask Hardcase, exchanging wary glances with the cobalt captain. What's going on? "Do you know where we can find a lot of popcorn for a movie night? You and the Captain are invited too of course, little flame!"

Grab your snacks…

The bunkroom has been torn apart by the time you and Captain Rex make your way in from the mess hall, and it smells better than you imagined for military sleeping quarters. Lots of beds are missing mattresses, bedding, and pillows. Except for Dogma's. His is untouched, saved for a slight rumple in the sheets. "Boys, we're here! … Where'd all the stuff go?" You step further into the room, and find all the missing mattresses laid side-by-side on the floor near one end of the room, where everyone's either currently wrangling with the holo-projector, or taking down a few posters from the wall to clear the space that will serve as your "screen". Tup spots the pair of you first. "Oh, good. Captain and Ember are here!" 

Hardcase is grateful that you found some popcorn for movie night, and that you could come join in for the fun. "There ya are, burc'ya! Just in time to start deciding on a movie!" He offers to get a jump on getting all the popcorn bags popped too, with the promise it's not going to be like last time. Trying to pop more than one bag resulted in a small fire, last time, evidently. 

Jesse and Kix are scouring over the descent film selection together, sorting them by type or genre. Action. Horror. Family-oriented. There's- how'd this kids movie end up in here? Eh, no thanks on the war films, we see enough of that. "What about a comedy?" you suggest, rifling through the stack to see what your pickings are there. There's a couple you do and don't recognize, and some that are tied to fond memories from before the war. "This is a good one, I think most of you guys will like it. I used to watch this a lot whenever I needed a good laugh, or some cheering up." 

Everyone agrees to give it a shot at least if that's what you recommend. In any case, it'll be difficult to get everyone to agree on one holo, and more than half of men squeezed around you on this giant raft of mattresses, blankets and pillows will probably fall asleep partway through it anyhow. 

… and enjoy the show!

"C'mon Dogma, come join us!" you urge with a friendly smile, seeing him return to his neatly-made bunk. "There's plenty of room, I'm sure." Tup and Hardcase, slightly sprawled next to you on your left, would need to move a bit to make it happen. Echo and Fives are sitting nearest the projector, their shoulders brushing against one another with every little movement. Jesse has positioned himself nearest the Captain, who is also beside you on your right. "It's okay if you don't, either. Nobody's gonna force you." you add pointedly, just as you feel someone start to pull his legs under him to go drag his brother into the tangle of limbs and bedding. Maybe he's more comfortable on his bunk. Or perhaps he's not interested in a film right now.

The lights are dimmed, the snacks are passed around, and the film begins. 

You only make it fifteen minutes into the film before there's a casualty: Kix, diligent man that he is to make sure all his brothers are taken care of, falls asleep behind you. "Psst! Kix, can you pass me the- oh nevermind. Ember, could you grab the candy under his arm before it melts?" You carefully wiggle it free and pass it up to Jesse before tucking a loose blanket kicking around over Kix. Generally, once Kix is out, he's out, so the group doesn't have to worry about waking him for a while. 

Hardcase stays surprisingly still through most of the movie so long as he keeps his hands mostly occupied in some capacity, or has one of his brothers leaning on him in some way. He's a very tactile person, so it's no surprise that he's slowly migrating around the raft of mattresses as each of his brothers either allow Hardcase to fiddle around with stuff he finds in their pockets, or just hold him close in a brotherly embrace for a bit if he's getting too disruptive. (He eventually settles down around the midpoint of the movie, and is one of the few who stays awake through the whole thing.)

Tup pays attention to most of the comedy film, occasionally conversing in whispers with Fives and Echo about their opinions on the jokes until Echo nods off for a bit, and the hushed conversation continues back up again when he wakes up before movie's end. It's Jesse who's not paying much attention to the film, but he's not too disruptive. Jesse almost makes it to the end of the movie before he falls asleep in the middle of scrolling through something on a datapad that's made its way into the nest of pillows and blankets and limbs, his head resting on Captain Rex's knee. 

Dogma does eventually join everyone on the floor. You suspect he was starting to feel a little left out, or maybe he changed his mind about the offer you made earlier, growing bored of whatever he'd been reading on his datapad, or deciding he'd give the movie a try. He tentatively makes his way over, and asks if he can still sit by you. "Of course, Dogma. Here, I saved some popcorn for you!" You give him the rest of the bowl you'd set aside for him, unable to get up and give it to him yourself since you've got multiple people surrounding you. (You didn't want Dogma to miss out on the snacks just because he wasn't initially watching the movie with everyone.) "Thanks for saving me some, Ember." Captain Rex reaches behind you and gives Dogma a warm pat on the shoulder. "Glad you joined us, brother." There's an unspoken finally in his words, but he's just glad to see that Dogma didn't end up isolating himself for long. 

You and Captain Rex, being firmly in the middle of the mattress pile, end up being the ones who become the human pillows of the group. It's nice to see all your friends having fun tonight, and be a part of enjoying a movie together. No stiff, uncomfortable armor; everyone's either in their fatigues or their blacks, and draped over and across their friends and brothers. Everyone is content and full of maybe a little too much popcorn and other snacks. You'll have a heck of a mess on your hands to clean up, either in the morning, or when everyone returns their respective mattresses to their bunks tonight, too.

Nights like this are how it should be. Everyone's happy and there are signs of trust everywhere you look. Brothers let their sleeping siblings rest on their shoulders, against their backs, their legs, or under their arms without complaint. There are sleepy smiles and shared blankets. Those who stayed awake until the end are now joking happily with one another and their Captain, and you too. 

And for a moment, in this night that will become a cherished memory no matter which way this war winds up, everyone you care about is safe. 

And what could be better than that?

Don't have a fic taglist for the time being, but I'll likely start one soon if I can figure out how to make those forms some people have since I write a variety of stuff. For now, though, if you'd like to join a taglist for specific types of fics (for example: just TBB-centric or just TCW-centric (or both)) don't hesitate to ask. 🩷

[Masterlist] [Requests: OPEN]

#frostfics #star wars #anon ask #request fic #x reader #501st x reader #gender neutral reader #star wars headcanons #star wars the clone wars #star wars tcw #tcw fanfic #tcw #tcw captain rex #tcw rex #tcw fives #tcw echo #tcw tup #tcw jesse #tcw hardcase #tcw dogma #tcw kix #501st #501st fluff #star wars au

[mandoalorian]

Borrowed Time [Din Djarin x F!Reader]

♡˳‧₊*: • Chapter 11: The Abduction ✩࿐ ˚.✧

Summary: You are the princess of Mandalore, held hostage on your own planet by Moff Gideon and his army of Imperial troopers. Left with no choice, you send out a distress signal; a plea for protection— and who comes? None other than Din Djarin, a foundling of The Death Watch. He, by creed, is your sworn enemy. And where you have asked for his protection, he has been told by his mentor that he must marry you and gain the ability to restore Mandalore to its former glory.

Word count: 4000

Warnings: lots of angst, canon typical violence, sexual references

Author’s note: this chapter is very special to me. I’ve been working on it for two and a half months, changing things and perfecting it to the way I want it to read. I feel like a lot is answered in this chapter and I’m excited to share it with you all. If you enjoy, please reblog! It would mean the most to me. 

Series Masterlist

Din didn’t come to bed that night.

Your body missed the familiarity of his warm, strong arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against his chest in his bed that was made for one. After an unsettling lack of sleep, accompanied by plenty of tossing, turning, and unconscious mumbling, you got up to grab a glass of water from the refresher. It was a ritual that you had become all too comfortable with; after all, the tin bed on the Razor Crest was a lot more different to your soft chambers back home. You craved for the moment you could return to your palace on Mandalore. It would be the perfect place to bring up Grogu. There would be so much space for him to play about, and Din would like it too. There was no better place to learn about his Creed and culture than Mandalore itself. Since marrying Din, there was no other person you could imagine rebuilding Mandalore with. He’d stay by your side and continue to act as your protector; your soulmate.

Nursing your cool drink, spheres of ice clinking against the glass, you lightly padded around the ship's hull, looking for your husband in the dark. You noted that Grogu was fast asleep in his hover pram, and you tucked him in under his favourite crochet blanket that you’d purchased for him back at the market on Nevarro. You were thankful that Din had at least put him to bed. You often expressed your dismay towards your husband when he let the little green bean fall asleep in the cockpit. Din was extremely trusting of the child; after all, he was just a baby and with his curiosity, you had no doubt that Grogu would one day give in to his urges and fiddle on with all the bright flashing buttons and levers. You were certain that Grogu would one day learn to be a great pilot like his father, but he was too young for that right now.

You sauntered into the cockpit expecting to find Din sleeping in the pilot seat but were instead greeted by an uneasy feeling when he wasn’t there. Despite the darkness both inside the ship and outside the main bay window, you’d noticed that Din had found a safe place to land the ship, in, what appeared to be a spice mine on your home planet. The mines ran deep and there was no real way of seeing an end to the tunnel, at least not from where you were standing.

There was only one other place in the Razor Crest in which you hadn’t checked, and that was the armoury. Climbing carefully down the steel ladders that led into the base of the ship, quietly as to not wake the sleeping child, you dropped into the repository to find Din, sitting on a stool with his legs spread, nursing his rifle with a cloth and some polishing fluid.

You instantly felt a rush of relief, knowing that he hadn’t disappeared or abandoned you through the night. Din acknowledged you were there, standing there before him in the dimly lit room, but didn’t look up or even address you. His gloved hands clasped around the barrel of the gun and he continued rubbing at it with smooth, slick motions, getting rid of oil stains and whatnot.

“Hi,” you said quietly, crossing your arms over your chest. He had you feeling vulnerable and small. “You didn’t come to bed.”

“Wasn’t tired.” His reply was short and monotone, not an ounce of emotion dripping from his tongue. It was only you and Grogu on the ship, in the middle of the night, and yet Din had still opted to wear his helm, masking his emotions… to him, it was better that way.

“Like you said earlier, we have a big day tomorrow. You should really rest.” You advised him softly. You wanted to beg him. Plead with him. Please, please come to bed.

There was a beat of silence followed by a grunt.

“Din?” your voice was timid. I miss you.

You walked towards your husband and took the pulse rifle from his hands. He let you with ease, not thinking twice to fight you on it, and watched as you lifted the heavy arsenal, placing it back on the rack where it belonged. As you hung it up, you glanced around the armoury. This was the first time you realised just how many weapons, bombs, and detonators Din owned. For a second, you must have forgotten that he was a bounty hunter before he was anything else, and really, you had just been one of his missions. You wondered if the Armorer had deliberately selected Din to rescue you because he was used to capturing quarry. You briefly wondered how different all of this would have been if the likes of Paz Viszla had come to rescue you instead.

If the stock wasn’t enough to remind you, the carbonite freezer at the back of the ship was certainly enough to refresh your memory. There was more than enough on the ship to take down an Imperial army, you believed that much. Still, imagining your sweet Din using an Imperial carbonite freezer proved to be difficult.

You turned back around to face him and noticed he’d been staring at you the entire time. Then, you offered him your hand.

Din faltered before he pulled off his glove which was now wet with dirt and rust and acidic cleaning gel. He dropped it to the floor and interlaced his fingers with yours. His hands were warm but rougher than the rest of his body, his fingers calloused and knuckles bruised.

You stepped closer to him, pressing your chest against his and extending your arm, cupping his helmet with your hand. 

“If you’re not tired… maybe I can help with that?” You offered him a suggestive smirk, looking up at him with wide, doe-like eyes.

It took every ounce of willpower for Din to not cave.

“Not tonight.” He replied and dropped your hand.

You stood there blankly, absorbed in the pressure of his rejection. Din couldn’t bear to look at you anymore, guilt inside him eating him alive, and so instead he opted to spin around and check over his armoury one more time. He just needed something, anything, to distract him from you. He just had to get through tonight, and then whatever fate tomorrow had to offer him, and then it would all be over. You wouldn’t want his burden once you reclaimed Mandalore anyway, he was certain of that.

It all felt so fake to him. Of course, he loved you, but this marriage wasn’t going to last after today’s battle. He knew that. You were Mandalorian royalty and he was justa bounty hunter.

You watched him momentarily as he began to reload his pistols with blaster bolts. 

Shaking off the feeling of rejection, you knew you had to confront him. It was now or never.

“Din… you’re acting distant. Did something happen? This isn’t like you.” You said softly. You placed a hand on Din’s pauldron gently, almost cautiously. Another silly attempt at unrequited intimacy.

Din scoffed and took a step back from you, breaking the distance. If only you had just waited this out, then he’d never have to engage in this conversation with you.

“What do you know about me, really?” he asked, venom in his question, regretting the words as soon as they left his lips. He saw your expression fall and his heart sank in his chest. Din didn’t mean to sound so agitated, that wasn’t his intention at all. He faltered before continuing. “It’s not like we married because we were in love.”

He was right, in a way, but the revelation knocked you sick. What exactly was he inferring? Why, for once, could he not just be direct with his words – say what he really means? Your heart felt heavy and it ached, not like it was breaking, but more so like he’d put this extreme pressure on it. Like his words bore the weight of a thousand bars of beskar. Was this his way of telling you that he regretted the marriage? That he wasn’t actually in love with you? Your worst fears had been realised and you felt nothing less than sheer humiliation that you, a princess, one of the bravest and strongest leaders Mandalore had ever seen, was now standing before the man you’d sworn true love to.

A foolish mistake that ultimately was your downfall, and nobody was to blame but yourself.

You didn’t reply to him. Your hurt was blinded by rage as he’d led you on all this time. Led you to believe that the feeling was mutual. You didn’t understand… he had been so kind to you, and so gentle. This whole thing had been a façade, you knew that now. He was a bounty hunter after all, and you were just a job to him. A duty. A liability.

Your face hardened and you stormed past Din, clicking opening the armoury and taking the rifle he had just polished; the rifle that you struggled to pick up but what he had lifted with so much ease. You took one of his belts, bandoliers and holsters, filling them with blaster ammunition and attaching emergency detonators. Grabbing everything you could, you spun around on your heel and began climbing back up the ladders, leaving in the dust.

“Hey,” Din stood up, his modulated voice deep with concern. You were already at the top by the time Din reached the bottom of the ladders. He called your name. “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

You walked past Grogu who was still fast asleep and pressed a small kiss goodbye atop his forehead. “Take care, little one.”

Din sighed and began climbing up the ladders, and you acknowledged his footsteps getting louder and louder as he neared you. You opened the door to the Razor Crest and took a deep breath, inhaling the cool crisp air of the outdoors. It looked like it would be a long journey out of this mine, but thankfully Mandalore was your home and you knew it like the back of your hand. You had more of a solid chance navigating this planet than Din did anyway. Your name echoed throughout the walls and knowing Din was on your tail, you hopped of the ship you had called your home and started to run.

By the time Din had reached the hull, you were gone, nowhere in sight.

He yelled your name, panic filling his body as he checked his quarters, the refresher, the cockpit… everywhere. All of Din’s yelling had awoken the child who had started crying with distress. Din cursed when he realised you were no longer on the ship and bolted back to the armoury, jumping back down the ladders and grabbing everything in sight. Guns, stim canisters, his vibroblade. Had you really been so foolish as to walk straight into an Imperial warzone?

After about fifteen minutes of running straight, you finally saw an end to the tunnel. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, but there was no time to catch your breath. As approached the entrance to the mine, the skyline entered your view and your entire body deflated. Imperial ships… dozens of them ahead of you. With your fingers dipped into your holster, inches away from your blaster, you ducked out of sight from them and made your way to the destroyed palace you once called your home.

Decaying bodies curled up on every corner and you swore that the image of them would haunt you forever. They had been there since the attack on Mandalore weeks ago and nobody had come back for them. They didn’t even get a proper burial. Your lips curled into a deep frown as you headed further towards the palace. These were your people and as you whispered a solemn prayer you swore that they’d get justice if it was the last thing you could do. You wouldn’t let the Empire win. Stormtroopers were easy to avoid, but it was the hovering TIES in the sky that you were more worried most about. You made it to the back gate of the palace and the collapsed fountain was now in your line of vision. Although the marble statutes adorning the fountain had been decapitated and destroyed, the secret hatch behind the wall appeared to be intact. The Imperials had yet to discover the hatch that led into the Merenzane Gold brewery in the cellar. During the Clone Wars, your mother would trade Merenzane Gold to a pirate queen who owed a bar on Takodana, in exchange for beskar steel. The brewery had been out of business for some years, but further into the cellar, was your mother's Forge, which just so happened to be one of Mandalore’s very first Forges. 

You rarely ventured down here even when you lived in the palace, for you had no reason to, but now you felt inclined to check on the Forge. It held so much of Mandalore’s history, you prayed it hadn’t been touched by the Imperials.

To your earnest gratitude, the Forge appeared untouched, and a pang of your heartstrings struck you as you ventured deeper into the gallery. The walls were dotted with beskar spears, weaponry that had been created but never used. The forge itself had been collecting dust, last lit when your mother was still alive. Wedged into the dip of the pit was a piece of paper, folded up into a small square. The corners had been burnt but as you opened it up, you discovered the words scrawled in ink were still intact.

It was a letter, addressed to your mother.

My dearest Satine,

I hope that this letter does not alert you and that my sudden need to contact you comes as no surprise. Two weeks ago, we parted ways on Mandalore, and I swore an oath to the Order that I would cease all contact with you, for the sake of my own commitment to the Jedi, as well as your commitment to Mandalore. This letter disregards my vow but I feel as though it is my obligation as your friend a Jedi, to inform you of my findings on Mandalore’s moon, Concordia. 

Anakin and I have just left Concordia’s capitol, and I am afraid to say that a number of mining facilities have destroyed the forests, although I am sure you have already been made aware of this. Our intel suggests that the governor, Pre Vizsla of House Vizsla has been secretly leading the Mandalorian terrorist group, Kyr’tsad (translated to Death Watch), in these mining facilities and plan on opposing your government regime. They want to claim Mandalore as their own. Not only that but we discovered evidence to suggest that they are recruiting children, Mandalorian foundlings, to fight for their cause.

Satine, you have always been so gentle, and I do not regret the custom you showed me both in public and in private. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t pondered on those forbidden moments that we shared, and had things been different, I’d like to believe I could stay with you on Mandalore. I’d serve as your protector by choice, rather than duty.

Consider this letter a formality and do not feel the necessity to respond but please, be safe out there. I will always be here for you.

May the force be with you, Satine.

General Kenobi.

Ben.

Your heart sank in your chest. It was a warning letter to your mother, and perhaps the first time she’d heard of Death Watch. She had no idea of the damage they’d cause and the letter indicated the beginning of the end. An eerie coldness hung above your head. Concordia was the home of the Death Watch. It was the home of Din. 

Your finger traced over the name of whom it was signed by; Ben. You had never heard of a Ben, and there certainly not a Ben of whom your mother had mentioned. You wondered who he was and why he had wrote to her with so much affection and care. Intimacy laced his words. You glanced over the blackened, ripped corners of the paper gazed over towards the forge. It appeared as though your mother had tried to burn the letter, but couldn’t bring herself to do so, and instead opted to hide it in the forge itself.

You folded the piece of paper back into a square and stuffed it into a pocket before feeling a blunt cold object press into the curve of your back. You froze in your movement and for a second you swore you forgot to breathe. You weren’t alone in here. You had been followed.

“You were the child of Duchess Satine Kryze,” a familiar voice declared. But where did you recognise it… the twisting of the foreign object against your spine made you remember all too quickly. 

“Ironic… the blade that killed your mother killing you too.” Moff Gideon chuckled. “Poetic.”

“You’ll never get away with this.” You spat, fury filling your body, your bones aching with nothing short of rage.

“Oh, I think I already have,” Gideon smirked. “Bind her wrists and take her to the cells for interrogation.” He commanded his army of Stormtroopers. Two of them walked by your side, one pinning your wrists together as the other cuffed them together. You tried to fight it, kicking back at them and screaming as loud as you could. Maybe Din was near enough so that he could hear. You then stopped abruptly. You didn’t want to lead him into danger. 

“Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be.” Moff Gideon said.

“I have powerful friends,” you warned as the troopers began to drag you out of the forge. “You’re going to regret this.”

Moff Gideon let out a small huff of contempt before bringing out his blaster and hitting you on the head with it, knocking you unconscious. Everything went black.

The rambunctious green child yapped away as Din traced your steps back to the palace. He was on your tail, little did he know you had been abducted by the New Empire.

ੈ♡˳‧₊*: • ✩࿐ ˚.✧\

Borrowed Time taglist in the replies!

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#pedro pascal #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #Pedro pascal fic

[toska-writes]

idk if u still take req, but i've been thinking purge trooper cody hunting child padawan reader who living with obi-wan in tattoine. it's like battle with himself rather than the two jedi, like yk trying to resist inhibitor chip. slight codywan will be cute

ignore this if u don't seems interested, thankuu for all u'r hardwork! i love every single of it!!

Purge trooper Cody on the brain! Did I stray a little from the prompt? Maybe-

“Dead of Night”

Could this be a follow up to this old fic (x) maybe but I’m not sure…

Summary: Cody tracked them down, spotted together were the 2 people that haunted his dreams. He was a good soldier, he had to be

Pairing: purge trooper Cody x GN!padawan reader (PLATONIC)

Warning: guilt hurt/comfort (that’s all I could find really but let me know if I missed any)

Word count: 1256 (not proof read at all)

Notes: I swear I posted this a few days ago, sorry for disappearing

This armor wasn’t his.

It sat wrong on his lean frame, heavier than the one before. Cody shook his shoulder out before slipping the dark helmet onto his head.

He missed his sunshine armor from so long ago.

If he thought ever so hard Cody could almost hear the faint laugh of once before while painting the sun burst on his armor.

These thoughts never seemed to stick around.

A blaster still hung at his hip accompanied by the unfamiliar weight of the eltro-shock staff many of the purge troopers use.

Unethical. Cody thought stomping down the halls the to docked ship waiting to take him away. The weight and feeling of said weapon made him sick.

The ship rustled under his feet during take off, so caught up in his thoughts the dread of this mission sank into his bones.

The sun never seemed more dull.

•••

Sand was everywhere. The sun radiated heat over the barren lands where a small house was situated. If you could even call it that.

Watching the twin suns set for the one-millionth time seemed always new and different. The warm colors filled your eyes and cover your skin in a honey color.

A chest plate was clutched in your lap. The names started to fade ever so slightly, but with the many times you’ve read over them the order was engraved in your memory.

As the suns took its last peak over the horizon before finally submitting to the darkness that bled into the cloudless sky, you spoke softly names names that were painted into the backside of the chest plate.

Starting with the familiar signature of your master and the commanders closely under his, ending with Trapper and the small name of Rex’s tucked into the corner.

From the front of the shelter you heard the calls from your master. The urgency in his voice made your blood run cold and to discard the piece of armor off to the side.

“Y/N” Obi-wan said once again as you stoped near his side, a comm was clutched tightly in his hand.

You nodded your head slightly in acknowledgement waiting for him to say something else.

“Comms and intel found an emperial shuttle inbound.” His tone was even and cold as it has been the entire time on this desolate planet.

“Is this worrisome?” The word master almost slipped past your teeth as you fought long and hard to break the habit for safety reasons.

With a sigh Obi-wan answered. “Not necessarily, it looks like it’s going to land near the town the check things out there.” He turned fully to you now placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“There’s nothing to worry too much about young one, but the village will be off limits until they leave.”

A weight was slightly lifted off your chest with his somewhat reassuring words. The slight shake in your hands were present while you patted your old masters arm.

This wasn’t easy on either of you. It never will be.

The brisk wind of the night rattled through your bones jolting you awake. It was new that it wasn’t a nightmare this time and for that you were thankful.

The soft shuffle of Obi-wan under a shear blanket was the only other noise you could hear besides your own breaths.

You knew he was a soft sleeper, now more than ever. But something deep within, long since been buried reignited.

A pull of something through the force while you tried to be rid of it never it truly seemed to be gone for long.

In the distance a small flicker of a light danced along the horizon. If it was a flashlight of some sorts it would imply that the holder was running.

The feeling again bubbled in your chest as you took a few steps out on the soft sand. One look over your shoulder showed your master still resting.

You couldn’t turn now. Whatever force god was watching over you wouldn’t allow it. The existence of fate was a touchy subject.

Strong winds continued to try and knock you down while you persisted through to whoever was on their way

Calls of your name was lost to the breeze in the dead of night. Oblivious of the man that followed you continued forward.

You stoped dead in your tracks while the figure approached further. The force surrounding this individual was sweet and familiar, normally lighting up your face with a smile.

Normally.

Something else, more complex and darker seemed to look around the edges but not close enough to deter you.

The man shook slightly from the spot that he watched from. You watched the twitchy movements as a hand flew too his blaster, but never touching it.

Instead another hand slowly reached for the dark helmet that masked him from you.

A ghost stood in front of you. Once you never thought you’d see again. The great maker above was clearly playing a sick twisted joke on you.

His name could barely form on you lips while taking a few steps back from the man you never thought you’d see again. The one that along with his brothers betrayed you.

You felt a shuffle to your side; the words “Drop your weapons’ rang out through the night from your master.

A blaster of his own didn’t shake. Stepping in front of you the sight of the man in front of you made your master take another look as well.

Obeying he threw the blaster that seemed to stick closer to him than any other trooper he started working with, and the foreign weapon that he didn’t want to be associated with anymore.

Dropping his helmet as well Cody fell to one of his knees, a hand came a cradled the side of his head.

Both you and your master were frozen where you stood. The cloudy eyes of yours tore through every defense that Obi-wan tried so hard to put up.

Through the wind the quiet cries blew to your ears. Your Cody was hurting; in more ways than one.

“Master” you almost begged as you both took a step forward.

Obi-wan tried so hard to keep the people in his life safe. Sabine, Anakin, Cody, and now you. Every buzzer in his mind was ringing saying this was a trap. That he should take you and run.

He was at the purge troopers side in a moment. Obi-wan’s strong embraced engulfed Cody and the weight crashed into him.

For months now this was all that he wanted.

Everything to be drowned out.

“Oh my love.” Was whispered slightly into his ear, Cody was quick to wrap his arms protectively around his general. The one that wasn’t going to get away again.

Cody’s cries became louder while another body wrapped around his shaking form. Weapons and enemies forgotten Cody let down all his walls and the floodgates opened.

“My head hurts.” Was the only thing Cody could get past his teeth and oh boy was it true. His own mind seemed to turn against him, to scream at him that he shouldn’t be doing this.

Good soldiers follow orders.

But even better ones protect those who stand besides them.

“We’ve got you now Cody.” Your voice flooded his ears, blocking out the screams of yours that haunted his every moment. “We can help you.”

Masked by the dead of night only tomorrow would they realized that another soldier went AWOL.

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @ct-0113

#purge trooper Cody #star wars #star wars clone wars #the clone boys #commander cody x reader #cody x reader #codywan #Codywan x reader #reader insert #the clone wars #clone wars #my writing #toska-writes #clone boys

[breakfastteatime]

The penultimate request goes out to @armageddon-is-light-after-dark who chose 'Birthday'.

Cal’s alarm wakes him, the ship’s lighting blinking on moments later to really make sure he doesn’t go back to sleep. He misses sunlight, the way it would creep through the curtains in the Temple. He could take his time waking up with the sun. On the Brave, the lights snap on and they’re too bright to argue with. Sighing, Cal kicks his blanket off and gets out of bed. He stretches his sleepy muscles and makes quick work of getting dressed in his training shirt and matching pants. Both are getting a little small for him. He’s had a growth spurt recently… not that anyone can tell when he stands next to Master Tapal all the time.

Oh, speaking of…

Cal tugs on his boots and hurries out of his quarters. He needs to get breakfast and then meet Master Tapal for training. He can’t be late. They’re practicing lightsaber forms today, specifically deflecting and reflecting. He’s getting better every time they practice, although Cal has pointed out it would be easier still with a double-bladed lightsaber.

“We will focus on mastering a single blade before complicating things,” Master Tapal always tells him.

Easy for him to say when he’s already using a double-bladed weapon. Cal’s studied a lot of technical manuals and he’s sure he could convert his hilt easily enough. Whenever he reminds his master, Master Tapal says the same thing.

“Patience, Padawan.”

Fine, fine. He’ll wait. For now.

After a quick wash in the ‘fresher, Cal heads to the mess hall, greeting the troopers in the hallways. Everyone is polite, formal, saluting him as he hurries by. Cal’s still not used to that. He doesn’t care if he’s technically older than all the clones, even the ones who’d fought on Geonosis – they’re grown-ups, he’s a kid, and he feels himself blushing every time they do it.

Distracted, he enters the mess hall. It takes him a moment to notice what’s wrong.

It’s… quiet. The mess hall is never quiet.

Everyone stops and looks to him. Cal spots Master Tapal at the dispensary. His master waves him over. Cal hurries past the clones, senses their amusement at his shock. He doublechecks himself, makes sure he’s properly dressed and his hair isn’t wild. Maybe he’s got toothpaste over his face? Something’s got to be up if they’re all being like this.

He reaches his master and wishes him a good morning. And then Cal stares at him. Even Master Tapal feels different. Kind of… buzzy. Maybe he’s sick.

“Is something wrong, Master?” Cal asks.

Master Tapal stares down at him. “I don’t believe so, Padawan.” He sounds like his usual self, if a little less stern. “What makes you ask?”

There’s a laugh, followed by a thud, and a loud cough from the clones. Cal stares but can’t figure out who it is. There’s too much in the air, like the silly string he once got to play with, all sticky and bright. He looks back to his master, hoping for an answer. “Um… things are… different.”

“Hmm, yes. Things are different. One of us has changed from before.”

“Who is it?” Cal asks.

Master Tapal stares at him. There’s another laugh from behind, only this time it’s more contagious than before. And then they aren’t laughing, they’re all singing.

They’re singing Happy Birthday.

Happy Birthday to him.

…Today’s his birthday?!

“I’ve heard you’ve made double figures.” Cal looks through the dispensary hatch and sees it’s Nom on breakfast duty. He holds out a tray, and in place of Cal’s usual breakfast is a small cupcake with a candle in it. “Happy birthday, Commander.”

Cal takes the tray, staring at the cake. He’s never had a cake of his own before – in the creche people’s birthdays were celebrated each month, one cake to share among all. This one is small enough just for him. He looks to Master Tapal, not sure if it’s alright.

“Happy Birthday, Cal,” Master Tapal says. Balancing his tray on one hand, he guides Cal to a nearby table. “You’d best eat up. We’ve a busy day ahead.”

The clones erupt into cheers and whoops, the mess hall suddenly back to its noisy self. Cal enjoys his cake, thanks everyone who wishes him a happy birthday as they walk to and from the dispensary, and decides his tenth birthday is the best birthday ever.

#fic requests 2023 #star wars jedi: fallen order #cal kestis #jaro tapal #clone troopers

[weixuldo]

All his// Yandere!Vader x reader

(A/N: i wrote this shirt fic one night after a bunch of coffee lol, but i hope u enjoy! it’s a diff side of vader than i usually write for)

You were married off to the most feared sith lord in the galaxy and he is infatuated with you. you’re all his.

Warnings: yandere themes, manipulation, swearing, implied sexual activity

__________________________________________

You were the only child of a royal family who ruled over a resource rich planet. Once you were 21 you were arranged to be wed to a powerful sith lord, Darth Vader.

At first you were completely against it, but once you met him you found he was oddly kind to you. In time you learned to accept him, though the longer the two you were together the more peculiar his behavior became.

He treated you as if you were a fragile doll and rarely let you venture out of your shared room. All your communication with outside parties was done through him, he spoke for you. Whenever he came to your room he would just hold you and bask in your presence. And at required functions, he was always glued to your side. It was like he was obsessed.

You were lying on a velvety blanket on the floor of your shared chambers anxiously watching the door. Your husband was to walk through those doors any moment now. You cared for him, but his love for you was overwhelming at times. He did not hesitate to kill for you and today, some trooper’s had harassed you. You knew he would come home having ended some lives.

The doors slid open revealing a familiar dark figure.

Darth Vader.

He raced inside, slammed the doors shut, and locked them using the force. He kneeled by your side and took your face in his gloved hands. You placed your smaller hands over his and spoke to him, “Vee, I’m ok”.

He huffed and gathered you into his strong arms, “You should have told me what they did, my love. You know I would have ended them then and there.”

You pulled back from his chest and looked up at him with troubled eyes, “I know you would have, that’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to kill them, they are just men, it's what they do.”

He let out a growling sound, “Darling, they had to be disposed of. No one is allowed to harm you. No one.” he sternly spoke, sending a shiver down your spine.

He always did this, he always went too far. “Love, you can't keep hurting people just because they looked at me. Please”

He turned his mask away from you, “I will do what I must, to protect you.” he stated. End of story. It was no use arguing with him, in his mind this was the only way.

_________________________________________

The next few days you gave him the cold shoulder, he could not keep doing this. Much to your displeasure, your behavior only angered him more, except he did not take it out on you.

He tried to talk to you, he tried to hold you, he tried everything but you wouldn’t budge.

“Darling, I am sorry if I have upset you, but soon you will see I am only doing what is best for you. I love you.” he would tell you every time he left you. You truly did care for him but this was becoming unbearable. Usually he just asks you to not leave the room but ever since the trooper incident he had been locking the door behind him.

You were utterly stuck in there and he didn’t leave you food or water. You were helplessly dependent on him for your essentials and he wanted it that way. He wanted to see your eyes light up when he came into the room, he knew you were only thankful for the sustenance he brought, but nevertheless he loved your reactions. You were his shining diamond, his darling. You were his. __________________________________________

He entered the room earlier than usual today. He brought you your favorite food and a new gown. “My Love, I hand picked this just for you.” he spoke sitting beside you on the bed

He placed the silky garment into your soft hands. “Thank you Vader, Its beautiful” you dully stated.

He tilted your chin to meet his gaze, “Can we stop this charade dear? I miss you, and I know you miss me too”.

Fuck.

Fuck, he was right. He was always right. And you hated it.

You leaned into his chest as you began to cry. He pulled you close and brushed your hair, “Do not cry darling, you are far too beautiful to cry”.

You hated how he could do this to you. No matter what he did you always ended up going back to him. Always.

He backed up and wiped your tears away, “there there, will you try on your new outfit now?” he asked softly. You agreed as you swallowed your tears.

He nodded and asked you to turn around. You complied and he began to unzip your shirt. He loved to dress and undress you. He loved to see your beautiful body and see how the outfits he chose fit perfectly on you.

He rested his helmet onto your chest once you were naked. This was his version of a kiss. “You are the most ethereal creature in the entire galaxy my love” he spoke, modulator adding a deepness to his voice.

Once you were in the new outfit, he leaned back to admire your beauty. The silky fabric clinging to you in all the right places, the jewels adorning the collar resting upon your collarbone nicely. He was in bliss.

“Look at you, all for me” he said, admiring you.

He motioned for you to come closer to him and you did. He sat you on one of his muscular thighs and caressed your back, “I am enamored with you dear. It is frightening how much I love you.”

You stiffened. Yes, it was frightening. But you didn’t really have a choice, he would find some way back into your life, no matter what you did. You just gave into his words because you were tired. You were tired of fighting against his love, his obsession.

You laid your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I love you too, Vee” you said, shutting your eyes.

He smiled to himself, he knew you would never dare leave him. He knew you were completely his.

“Good answer, my love”

All his.

***

(a/n: lol kinda cheesy, but sometimes u need some cliché in ur life :)

#darth vader fic #darth vader fanfic #vader #darth vader #vader x reader #darth vader x reader #yandere #yandere!vader #yandere!darthvader #yandere anakin #yandere vader #yandere darth vader #darth vader x y/n #vader x you #sw darth vader #sw #yandere star wars #star wars #star wars fic #star wars x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x you #darth vader x you #help me #all his #darth #yandere anakin skywalker

[ninjigma]

RexObi Week Part 7/7 - First / Previous

Day 7: Wedding Invitation Track: 'Share Your Address' - Ben Platt (Spotify / YouTube)

Rex didn't always wake up first. Though it was rare enough that when he didn't find Obi-Wan's warm side to tuck into that morning, he was wide awake in seconds, eyes blinking any remnants of sleep away as easily as any clone trooper could. 

Quick eyes covered the room, noted things at record speed. Nothing was broken or out of place, the patio door was open, but not any further then Rex had been opening it in the mornings, and Obi-Wan's clothes were still tossed on the floor from the night before. The biggest things out of place were that one, it was still dark out, and two, the door to the attached fresher was slightly open with light spilling out, but their was no noise beyond. 

As loath as Rex was to leave the warmth of the bed, he was also as curious as any clone could be, and with how silent it was he couldn't help but wonder what had woken the Jedi. There was even a hint of worry beginning to grow the more time passed, Rex all to familiar with the things that could wake and haunt a Jedi, especially Obi-Wan. So, with only a mild huff, he slid from the blankets, pulled on the oversized sweater their barely reached past the curve of his backside, and made his way over to the door.

"Kenobi?"

And though Rex had made no effort to be quiet, had pulled the sweater over his naked form with a mumble at being up and wasn't shielding his presence at all, the word sparked a very sudden reaction out of Obi-Wan. He had his back to Rex, standing almost eerily still, and Rex did not like the completely unfocused look he could see on Obi-Wan's face in the mirror. He appeared freshly showered and was dressed except for a folded blue dress shirt on the counter, but something just seemed off as rex's eyes flickered over the scars and marks he had come to know so well. There was also a hair buzzer, shaving cream, a towel, and Rex could guess what was supposed to be happening. But with the lack of movement he had been prompted to say the mans name, only instead of turning or answering or anything Rex had expected, Obi-Wan flinched hard, dropped the razor, and then hissed while clamping a hand to the left side of his neck. 

"Rex!" The surprise in Obi-Wan's voice was enough to make Rex blink in confusion, but him whirling toward Rex with a look the clone would normally have described as fear was much worse. "I- I'm sorry I woke you I was just, er, woke up and figured I'd clean up, of sorts."

Rex shook his head a bit in bewilderment. "You didn't really wake me, sir, just woke up," Rex then took a further step forward, reaching out towards where Obi-Wan was still clutching at his neck. "You were really quiet Obi-Wan, are you-"

Obi-Wan caught Rex's wrist in his free hand, the movement fast but the grip gentle. "I'm okay, really my dear," at this ever so convincing statement Obi-Wan stepped forward and pressed a quick kiss to Rex's palm, which Rex normally would have been happy about, but now had doubts as his Jedi continued to move forward, crowding Rex back the few steps out of the fresher. "I'll be done in a moment, promise. If you'd like, I had the morning cart sent up early, it should be outside now so you can help yourself well I finish, all right?"

Rex only had time to nod absently, eyes flicking to where a drop of dark crimson had escaped down the side of Obi-Wan's throat before they were parted, and the door slid shut between them. 

And Rex felt... lonely. It was a hard contrast to what must have been only hours ago, the evening before when Obi-Wan had so clearly reminded Rex of how much he loved him, fought for him the way Rex craved. Now he felt he was missing something very important, important to Obi-Wan. And if he was important enough to know about such things in the Jedi's life, then... well, Rex hadn't exactly been in a lot of relationships, but he did truly believe they were meant to share such things. That if something had Obi-Wan acting like this, then something must be wrong, and that meant something was wrong for Rex too, because the clone saw their worries together now, their hopes and wants intertwined. To fight back to back, never seeing but always trusting the other to be there. Not against, and not even side by side. The blind faith that your most vulnerable could be trusted wholeheartedly to someone. That was love right? Which means no, Rex shouldn't let Obi-Wan face whatever was obviously worrying him, hurting him. He should be in there with him, helping with the cut on his neck, weaving through the usual brand of nervous Jedi Obi-Wan still sometimes slipped into.

But when Rex raised his hand to the controls he thought of that moment again and froze. 

Because maybe what was wrong was Rex.

The clones mind suddenly went a mile a minute, tracing over the last few minutes, days, weeks. Trying to find the change, the moment. But he had answers for everything that seemed out of place besides just now. And what could have happened between Obi-Wan pushing Rex down into their bed and Rex waking up alone in it?

Rex lowered his hand. 

On the autopilot of past mornings Rex moved back to the kitchen and retrieved the cart from the hall. He noted how it had a few extra things today, a variety of treats like small pastries with powdered sugar dusted on them, and braided bite sized ones Rex discovered were filled with a type of strawberry jam. Sadly though he found he it hard to enjoy them the way they were probably intended. His mind kept blinking back, unsure whether to settle in the thoughts of what is wrong, or that he was somehow wrong. He didn't have any reason to really think such things, had been with Kenobi long enough to build a trust between them that if there really was something wrong and Rex was responsible for it, then Kenobi would come to him with it. In fact, he had already done so a few times, including opening up just nights ago with how he had been worried about not knowing how to give Rex a proper vacation. So, surely, it couldn't be Rex.

But what else could it be? What would prompt Obi-Wan not to share his worries now; what else could there be that Kenobi apparently did not trust Rex with?

It was just starting to gnaw at him properly when the Jedi came into the room, now with his shirt on and a small shimmery patch just below his beard where a pink line was healing. Rex expected something then, an admission of what was happening now that Kenobi had time to process, or even an apology ready as he still had a habit of doing. But he didn't do any of that, instead seeming to be only smiles again. In fact, he seemed near giddy now, slowly lifting the sweater and running broad hands up over Rex's sides. It was somewhat reassuring, the touch calming a part of Rex as it stayed rather innocent and exploratory, pulling away only ever long enough to sip caf or grab a fruit to share; but no talk of what had happened in the fresher came up. And before Rex knew it, the General had suggested a walk and he was holding his hand, quietly following the Jedi's lead.

Which brought him to the beach. Rex loved the beach, loved the water, the feeling, the sound, the smell. This early, with the sun just breaking above the waves, there weren't many people at all, mostly just a few workers here and there setting up morning stalls and activities. And the further down the beach they went the less there were, until it was just them and the waves biting at their feet.

"Rex?"

Rex came to a halt, the hand in General Kenobi's being pulled slightly behind him as the Jedi stopped walking. And when he looked back and found the concern so plainly written on the Jedi's face, Rex couldn't help sighing quietly in his head.

"Yes General?"

He watched as lips pursed tightly, and a decision was apparently made. "You've been rather quiet my love. I know you asked if I was okay earlier, and I promise again I am, but-"

"No."

The snap of the General's mouth was almost audible, everything about him going still at Rex's clipped tone. The hand still entwined with Rex's barely seemed to even have a pulse, everything frozen despite the quickly warming air.

"I didn't ask," Rex continued. "You said you were okay before I got to ask the question."

There was a bob to that freshly shaven throat, eyes that widened and an almost palpable upset easing out around them. 

"Rex I... I'm so sorry. I had just- just..."

"Just what sir?"

The formal titles seemed to be getting to the Jedi now, who's eyes continued to try and flicker away. He was fighting something, Rex definitely knew the signs of that, but the clone couldn't honestly tell what. And the more time that ticked by, the more the sun rose and the waves began hitting against their shins, the more Rex wanted to wade into the water and disappear. 

"If you really don't trust me enough to tell me what happened, what is wrong-" Rex started.

"That isn't-"

"Or if I have done something to upset you somehow that I am incapable of correcting-"

"No, Rex-"

"Then why are we here?"

His tone was level, Rex was good at that. Clear and straight cut. He wasn't letting anything play through his words, wasn't stating anything other then the words themselves. He kept his eyes up, locked on General Kenobi's forehead for the illusion of contact without ever actually making any. So he was able to note the true flash of emotions play across the General's face. Micro flinches Rex had long since catalogued, surprise turned to hurt before morphing to distress and hints of panic. Obviously Rex had been right, that something was wrong. Something was worrying General Kenobi and the man had chosen to hide it from him.

So when the General then let go of his hand, sputtering through noises that made no sense and hands beginning to wave about slightly, Rex decided maybe they really did both need a moment and turned to the water.

Rex didn't care that he wasn't wearing swim gear, didn't care that he left his sandals where the ocean would no doubt swallow them into its tides. He simply walked out until it was at his waist, gave the General the space and time he believed was wanted from Rex, and let himself sway with the surf instead. The water was still so cool, weaving past the fabric to ease at his muscle and take weight from his bones. His hands slowly began carding through the water, swirling in the ebb and flow of it. The water withstood the test of time better then anything ever had or ever will, and Rex let that familiar thought ground him. Let the waters immovable change strengthen him as it had many times before. 

And for how long it was, he didn't know for sure, but the sun was about half way up when he opened his eyes again. He could sense General Kenobi to his left sooner then that, but he hadn't said a word until Rex had taken a deep breath and turned toward him.

"You haven't done anything wrong Rex. And even if you had, I would more then trust you with it as well. I am sorry I gave you the impression otherwise."

Rex stayed silent still. He could feel that there was more; and besides that, General Kenobi's words were hollow if he did not fulfill the truth of them and trust Rex with what was wrong.

"I was just- I am nervous."

Which... wasn't the answer Rex expected. And unfortunately his silence this time was only met with the sound of waves, so he gave in to the prompting. "Nervous for what? That isn't much of an explanation sir-"

"Rex I know, I know," The General had turned quickly, once again taking Rex's wrist in his hand. But instead of kissing it goodbye this time, he brought it between both of his hands and pulled it towards his heart. "I know it is no explanation, especially not the one you deserve, I just- if I go through with it right here I am afraid I would actually drown with my height, and if I don't do it the right way I am positive Cody will find out somehow, and I rightfully already karked it up cutting myself shaving, Vos is going to hang me from my beard, not to mention you almost saw the ring because I couldn't follow the one rule Cody gave about not taking it out until I was proposing and-"

Rex's other hand clamped down on General Kenobi's mouth, the Jedi's looking desperately back to Rex. But Rex couldn't think much on that as he struggled to comprehend everything that just came spilling out of the Jedi. "I think you need to start that over, before Cody really does appear from no where to shove you in the ocean."

As the clones hand pulled away Obi-Wan's watery blue eyes widened in realization of what he said, and if Rex was being honest with himself, which he always tried to do, it was somewhat amusing how this was all falling apart in a very Obi-Wan way. Because if what Rex caught in all of that was truly what was about to happen, then this was most definitely a story that would make it back to Cody, with the express note that Rex wouldn't want a single second of it changed. Especially not when Obi-Wan once again fumbled as he seemed to forget himself and go to kneel, only to require Rex to grab him swiftly as a wave smacked into his shoulder and nearly took him under with it.

And now, both standing inches apart with Rex clutching Obi-Wan's shirt in a death grip and Obi-Wan snatching at a small, familiar blue colored box out of the water, tight enough to turn his already pale knuckle pure white as they both slowly began to laugh.

"Oh Rex," Obi-Wan sighed, face split in the most honest smile Rex had ever witnessed on him. "I am so sorry for being such a fool. But I am not the least bit sorry for how it has brought us here. I have a whole speech memorized, Cody made me repeat it over and over to Quinlan while Quinlan gave me various responses, but none of it was... this."

"Was what?" Rex couldn't stop his own smile that was almost starting to hurt now. "Was you nearly drowning because you forgot what you just said, calling yourself too short? Or the part where you have already blurted out what you are doing to me without actually doing it yet?"

Obi-Wan groaned, and Rex watched as bright blue eyes ensnared in crows feet rolled to the side. "All of it Rex, all of it. How do I even start to fix this?"

"Well," Rex hummed, letting his hold go a bit more slack but keeping his hands on Obi-Wan's broad chest. "Seems a shame to do all of that work and then not say your speech."

Rex could feel the waves still pushing at them, felt it mirror the pull of Obi-Wan's features as he seemed to think something through very critically for a moment before answering.

"Rex I... well I honestly can't. Later, if you want the full thing, I shall recite it with all the dramatics that I always deny having, but right now this just seems more... right. I don't know how to encompass everything we have been through together in some small speech anyhow. How do I explain how I trust you with everything, all the lives and happiness of those I love most, in the same time constraint that I give special prose to how much I adore the way your nose scrunches differently depending on your emotions- like that!"

Rex had in fact scrunched his nose up without realizing at the mention of his nose, and Obi-Wan had stolen the opportunity to quickly pop upward and kiss the end of it, much to the already overwhelmed clones amusement.

"My point is, rún, that you are the light of my life, the one I want to dedicate myself fully to, in every way imaginable, in front of every being who will listen including the Force itself. I love you. All of you. All that you have been, all that you are, and all that you will become. And to share all of that with you would be the highest honor I, high Jedi Master and General of the third systems army Obi-Wan Kenobi, could ever be given. So, letting the years speak for me, all I ask now is if you would give me the most wonderful gift of allowing me to remain at your side until the end, and guard your back as you have protected my heart against anything this galaxy can come up with, and marry me?"

Rex had been biting his lip, trying not to make a sound throughout all of Obi-Wan's fumbled words, taking them all in as the sun rose higher and the waves continued to hug them. He truly couldn't believe it was all happening though, that Obi-Wan Kenobi was saying this to him. A man with a galaxy wide reputation that was only truly rivaled by his own former Padawan, a man who had lead countless successful battles and missions, who had been giving his entire life to keep the peace before Rex had even been a test tube of random DNA. He stood now before Rex, a simple clone, and said he would dedicate all of that to him, if he only allowed him.

And though Rex had questions, like how Obi-Wan would keep his dedication to the order, those answers would come later (mostly in the shape of Anakin awaiting them on the landing platform, excitedly announcing how he had managed to outmaneuver Cody to get Obi-Wan's resignation letter to Windu for absolutely every Jedi and their clone on the platform to hear). For now, Rex only had one thing he wished to say as Obi-Wan very carefully opened the box between their chests to reveal a silver ring, inset with dark blue jaig eye shaped gems fit snugly around a light blue crystal that pulsed with a familiar kyber core. 

And he said it first without any words at all, heart bursting in his chest as he tightened his hands on Obi-Wan's shirt again and tugged him in for a promise sealed in a kiss. Then he backed only a breath away and locked a gaze that could make most beings squirm directly on Obi-Wan. "Yes, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Nothing would make me happier then being attached to your clumsy, dorky, handsome, brilliant, stubborn, and amazing self for the rest of my life." 

And if there was one thing Rex would never forget, it was how brightly Obi-Wan smiled up at him then after slipping that ring on his finger with shaky hands, or how the sun lit the grey in his hair so brightly it begged for Rex to thread his newly decorated hand through it. To capture Obi-Wan once again without any barrier between them. Just the light of a new day, the waves they stood against, and the currents of the universe melding them together. 

Because if there was ever any guarantee in this universe, it was this: Obi-Wan needed to love, and Rex needed to be given it.

@rexobiweek

#Wedding Invitation #a proposal is like an invitation to your own wedding right? #does this count? #mention of blood #a small cut #Obi-Wan just nicks himself shaving really #but just in case #also this was so hard to write I should have given myself more time ahhhhhhhhhh #but either way #WE DID IT #rexobi fest 2023 #obi wan kenobi #clone captain rex #rexobi #obirex #obi wan x rex #star wars #clones wars #fanart #my art #my writing

[cabezadeperro]

codywan sleep bingo #1: disturbed sleep

first fill of the @codywansleepbingo​! fill and bingo card found under the cut.

established relationship, sharing a bed, G.

wordcount: ~1.2k

read it on ao3

--

The room is still dark when Obi-Wan opens his eyes. He blinks and shifts on the bed, reaching out across the mattress: he finds himself alone. He huffs and closes his eyes again, rubbing his cheek against the cold, smooth fabric of his pillow.

A second later, the door clicks. Cody’s back: Obi-Wan lets out a sigh and lets himself sink into the bed again, sleep lapping at the edges of his consciousness.

He half-falls into a doze while he listens to Cody moving around the room. He’s quiet, quieter than most, but there’s something—off. He had plans for the night—he was meeting with some of the other commanders somewhere, and Obi-Wan had thought he wouldn’t see him until the next morning.

They have the room for the next three nights: Obi-Wan will have to return to the Temple during the day, and Cody has his own plans, his own duties, and it’s stupid and reckless meeting like this. But it’s this or nothing, and Obi-Wan has found he has grown very tired of settling for nothing.

Cody steps into the fresher. The light switches on once he closes the door, and Obi-Wan sighs in the grey dimness of the bedroom. A sliver of white slips through under the door, and slowly his eyes get used to it. He thinks about sitting up on the bed, but there’s something in the tense, blurry feelings that escape Cody’s tight shields that stops him. He’s buzzing with frustration, with something too bitter and grieving to be rage.

Cody switches off the fresher light and steps back into the bedroom. He makes his way to the bed, bare feet padding noiselessly over the rug, and then he’s slipping under the blankets with a sigh. He smells of toothpaste. 

Obi-Wan blinks in the sudden dark. He closes his eyes. Cody’s weight makes the mattress dip, and Obi-Wan feels himself slowly drifting towards his commander. He’s lying on his side, his back to Obi-Wan, and he’s not asleep.

Obi-Wan licks his lips. After a beat, he clears his throat and shifts across the bed, fitting himself to the firm line of Cody’s spine. He’s half-naked, wearing just his underwear and—and his socks. Obi-Wan huffs, stupidly amused, and tangles his legs with Cody’s.

Cody tenses up minutely before relaxing again, and when Obi-Wan wraps his arm around his waist, Cody’s hand finds his wrist and then his hand, tucking it against Cody’s chest. Obi-Wan rubs his nose against the back of his neck and breathes him in: sweat, aftershave. Beer, bitter and still fresh. He’s very warm.

“Did I wake you up,” Cody says. His voice is hoarse, and he sounds—off.

“You’re back early,” Obi-Wan replies. Cody huffs.

“So I did wake you up,” he sighs. He taps his fingers on the back of Obi-Wan’s hand. “Sorry.”

Obi-Wan splays his hand on the centre of Cody’s chest and says nothing. He tucks his knees under Cody’s and lets himself relax against his body, steady and strong and present. 

He was meeting with his friends, and he’s back early, and he’s—angry, but the bright-hot bite Obi-Wan has learned to expect from his anger—always well-earned, always righteous—is missing.

Obi-Wan can read between the lines just fine. He wants to ask: he isn’t that sure Cody wants him to. What they have and what he has with his brothers, with the other troopers—they’re very different things. The fact that Obi-Wan knows this unspoken, impassable boundary exists—the fact that he respects it, even if he doesn’t quite understand it—is one of the reasons Cody is in this bed with him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Cody says suddenly. He clears his throat.

Obi-Wan snorts softly. “I wasn’t going to ask,” he tells him quietly.

Cody scoffs.

“I can feel you thinking at me,” he replies, but it’s fond.

Obi-Wan says nothing: there’s nothing to say. Cody already knows he cares, but letting the words bloom and take form implies a number of things Obi-Wan doesn’t quite want to deal with. Not yet, and maybe not ever.

They fall quiet. Obi-Wan dozes, drifts closer to sleep. Cody shifts in the bed and resettles, his back against Obi-Wan’s chest. Very slowly, his muscles start losing some of their tension.

“I said something I should not have said,” Cody says suddenly. He sounds very matter-of-fact. “It was true, and I was right, but I should not have said it.”

Obi-Wan opens his eyes again. He keeps quiet, and feels his heart start beating harder, faster.

“I will—apologise. Tomorrow,” Cody continues. Obi-Wan can picture the expression on his face: that half-grimace, dark brows furrowed slightly over his eyes. “But I think I—. I. I don’t know.”

He falls quiet. Obi-Wan frowns slightly.

Cody is—he’s so good. He’s clever and he’s good and he’s brave. Obi-Wan admires his mind and his humour and his unflinching sense of right and wrong, his loyalty to his people and to his own ideals. 

Cody is also prickly and impatient, and he can be a mean bastard. He’s blisteringly honest when it suits him, and ruthless, and shameless. He’s resolutely uncompromising, for better and for worse.

For the first time in a while, Obi-Wan finds himself at a loss for words. He’s almost forty, and he knows himself quite well: he has never been very good at comforting people. And he doesn’t want to mess this up.

Cody snorts. He starts laughing softly, and then he turns on the bed until he’s facing Obi-Wan, his silhouette a darker shadow in the dark of the room. One warm hand lands on Obi-Wan’s face, Cody’s rough thumb tracing the edge of his beard. Obi-Wan feels himself smile.

“You’re very bad at this,” Cody tells him. He sounds almost—gleeful. His fondness warms the room, the space between them. 

Obi-Wan sniffs. “You always tell me I sound patronising.”

Cody snorts.

“That’s because you do,” he replies.

Cody sighs. He shifts again, drifts lower. He lies his head on Obi-Wan’s arm to tuck himself under his chin, his curls soft against Obi-Wan’s lips. Obi-Wan tugs him closer and hums when he feels Cody’s fingers start moving across his back, not quite soft enough to tickle.

“What do you want from me?” Obi-Wan asks after a while. He’s falling back asleep, but this is—this is important.

After a while, Cody shrugs. “Nothing. I'll—I’ll fix this. F—he will forgive me, or he—won’t.”

“He will.”

Cody says nothing in reply. He sighs, and closes his eyes, eyelashes brushing Obi-Wan’s skin.

This is very new. They've known each other for more than two years, but this—the bed, and the nearness, and the way Cody kisses his throat, lips soft—is so very new. It shouldn’t feel like this: it always catches Obi-Wan by surprise, the fact that it does.

“Sorry I woke you up,” Cody says again, lips moving against Obi-Wan’s throat.

Obi-Wan hums, already falling back asleep.

#codywan #codywan sleep bingo 2023 #maría writes #commander cody #obi wan kenobi

[sev-on-kamino]

30 Days of Blossoming Romance (8)

Day 8: Discovering common interests (prompt list here)

Echo x afab!Reader

warnings: MINORS DNI, it’s sfw, but y’all aren’t supposed to be here. it’s like a sour patch kid, first it’s angsty, and then at the end there’s fluff. I went a different way with this one, and it’s more of a re-blossoming. body anxiety, mutual relationship anxiety, mention of jealousy, pls lemme know if I missed anything

word count: 988

Getting anything that looked like privacy on the Havoc Marauder was damn near impossible. You hadn’t realized how much you’d miss your tiny quarters on the Resolute until you’d woken up with your face stuck to a console in the cockpit. The inconvenience was totally worth it though. You had Echo back, and the galaxy felt less cruel for it.

He was different than you remembered, but in many ways that was a good thing. You could look at him, and just see him. Not Fives. Unfortunately, you looked almost exactly the same minus your armor, and several new tattoos. Sometimes Echo would look at you with such sadness in his eyes you could feel your heart breaking.

This was why you’d been desperate for privacy. You needed a few minutes alone to wrap your head around the choice you’d made impulsively, when the thought of saying good bye hurt too much to consider. Apparently your anxiety was affecting you severely enough for Hunter to notice. He’d offered you his bunk, so you could stretch out and relax while he was on watch.

You’d eagerly taken him up on the offer, climbing in with your holopad, and your journal. It was old fashioned, but you liked the feeling of a stylus in your hand. You pulled up the picture you’d taken on your most recent mission, and started sketching it out in your journal. The knot in your stomach began to unravel, as you remembered the way Wrecker had tossed Crosshair up on the ridge, much to the sniper’s irritation.

The tension in your shoulders eased, as you recalled Echo holding your hand for the first time since your reunion. Fingers laced securely with yours, the quiet confidence he’d always had shining through in that perfect moment.

You drifted off before you could finish the description of the planet and your favorite features. It was the first restful, dreamless sleep you’d had in awhile.

Echo had been tossing and turning every night since he’d come out of that blasted stasis chamber. He was running on a few hours of sleep, which was consumed by nightmares, or a fear of hurting or scaring you, as you slept next to him. You were a constant source of confusion for the ARC trooper.

On one hand, your willingness to give up your life and go with him gave him hope that you could pick up where you’d left off before the Citadel. On the other, he wasn’t that trooper anymore. You were still radiant, kind, beautiful, whole. He felt like a shell of his former self at best.

It didn’t help that the others had taken to you so quickly. A whole batch of super soldiers, who could be what you deserved. He didn’t feel like he stood a chance. It had become a pain point that you chose to be by his side when he was certain you’d rather be elsewhere. Echo despised feeling like you felt obligated or that you pitied him.

Still, it surprised him when he woke up alone. It wasn’t your turn on watch yet, and you’d never been willing to give up sleep. He slid out of the bunk, and went to the cockpit, wondering if perhaps you couldn’t sleep either. He only found Hunter, who mentioned you were passed out in his bunk.

Returning to the racks, Echo tugged the privacy curtain out of the way to check on you. You looked like a dream when you were asleep. Your features soft, unmarred by the worries of the waking world. He moved to cover you with the blanket only to notice your hand clutching a stylus, and a journal splayed out across your stomach.

He lifted it carefully, not wanting to invade your privacy when your sketches caught his eye. A smile brightened his features instantly. He used to keep a journal just like this one when he’d joined the 501st. A map of where life had taken him. He looked at the latest entry, and felt a lump in his throat.

• Wrecker tossed Crosshair like 4 meters to “help” him get to a lookout point “faster”

• Hunter kept me from walking straight off a cliff. Thanks, Sarge

• Crosshair nearly gave me a coronary taking out a creature that was about to bite me. Maker bless his eyes and his trigger finger

• Echo held my hand for the first time in so long, and I didn’t want to ever let go. Maybe I made the right call

• Pretty sure Tech found a new plant species. Show off! Looked like this:

You stirred in your sleep, breaking the ARC trooper’s concentration. He tugged the stylus out of your hand, and secured it to the journal, placing them on the far side of your body, so you wouldn’t knock them to the floor in your sleep.

Echo took a deep breath, biting his lip nervously before leaning close to press a kiss to your cheek.

He swore under his breath, as your eyes opened slowly.

“Sorry, I woke you,” he began softly, rubbing the back of his head. You smiled sleepily at him.

“No, it’s ok, I just wanted to scribble in my journal for a bit without disturbing you.”

“I didn’t know you kept one,” he ventured, not wanting to let on that he’d snuck a peek. Despite the sweet things he’d read, he still felt guilty. “I used to before…all this.”

“Really?” you asked, your smile lighting up the dim corridor.

He nodded.

“It’s nice, yeah? Things are a blur sometimes, most of the time really. It helps me keep track of where I’ve been,” you hesitated a moment before picking up the little volume tucked behind you. “Wanna see a couple things?”

“I’d love to.” He sat next to you, close like he used to, an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you exactly where you belonged.

#tbb echo #tbb echo x reader #tbb echo x you #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #reader insert #April showers bring May drabbles #it’s angst your honor #angst out of love though #blue writes #seven writes #arc trooper echo #arc trooper echo x reader

[cortosis-ct]

So, yeah. Hi.

I would like a wholesome Rex, Cody, Fives, and Echo headcon.

Just a suggestion. I MISS FIVES

Let me think, might get a little angsty (I'm also interally happy-screaming about getting a request)...

After Rishi Moon Fives and Echo were devastated about their loss. A few hours after getting back to the ship Cody approached Rex with the suggestion to take the last two Dominoes under their wing and into one of their battalions so they won't be reassigned to some other random battalion and to make sure they won't be separated and assigned to different units.

The two officers went to medical but couldn't find either of the boys. Kix told them he had cleared them for duty hours ago and they had left.

Rex found them, eventually, hidden in a storage closet and huddled together. Cody came and brought blankets. Echo and Fives cried a lot that night but Rex hugged them a lot and Cody gave them some of the sweets he got from his last time on Coruscant. The young troopers were showered with reassurances and sweet words to make sure they would be okay. They eventually fell asleep, all cuddled together. Trauma bonding does weird things to people but that's how they felt the most save.

Echo and Fives had some trouble deciding but eventually chose the 501st as their new unit.

After the ceremony with Anakin and Obi-Wan they meet up again at midday meal and Cody made sure they got enough food down. Echo and Fives still felt like they failed their brothers and they missed them so so much. They didn't ever want to forget Droidbait and Cutup and want to honor Hevy's sacrifice. It was Cody's idea to paint their names on the boy's armor. For Hevy. Together they all worked on the new paintjobs until the 212th departed for the next mission and Cody had to leave.

They met again a few weeks later when the battalions worked on a joint mission again. Together they sat on the floor of the big hangar and helped cleaning each other's armor to show Cody the finished paintjob. It became a tradition after that, a post battle routine. The troopers of 501st and 212th sit together and take care of their armor, laugh, cry and tell stories. Rex, Cody, Echo and Fives sit together to share hopes and memories.

When the war is getting closer to an end and Rex is hearing an Echo on Anaxes, Cody finds him in the field barracks looking at one of the many holos they took with the Domino boys. Rex is talking about Echo, Fives and Hevy. They'll be together again one day, Cody is sure about that. He's right.

(There's Echo, close enough that they can almost grasp him. The war is coming to an end, slowly but surely. The Sith they're all looking for will die and when they're searching through Palpatine's living quarters and hidden rooms they find a cryo chamber with a sleeping trooper who has a raging scar on his chest and a little 5 tattooed on his forehead.)

#star wars #clone wars #clones #swtcw #star wars headcanons #star wars the clone wars #captain rex #clone wars echo #clone wars fives #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #commander cody #501st legion #212th attack battalion #anakin skywalker #obiwan kenobi #rishi moon #fives lives au #canon is a clone and I'm Dave Filoni

[wanderinginksplot]

Refuge Chapter Three

Eventual Delta Squad x fem!reader fic (no use of y/n).

Full disclosure, I'm still not happy with this chapter, but it's been months since I posted chapter two, so here you go!

Word Count: 4,600

Warnings: homesickness, sneaking around, hints of political intrigue, mentions of disobeying orders.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

Curious

“Stay here.”

It had been the last thing Delta Squad had said to you before they left the ship. Every one of them had said the same thing, the sentiment varying only slightly between the different speakers.

They had to go 'make a report' to their superior officer. That had confused you, since they specifically told you that they hadn't been called into action in the mission they had just come from, but you weren't going to pretend that you understood the intricacies of the Republic's army. Or any army, really. Voubos hadn't had one, and your only exposure to the military at all had been occasional brushes with Separatist droids and the night Delta Squad had bunked down at your house.

Abruptly, as if you had thought too much about home and filled some unknown emotional quota, a wave of homesickness crashed through you. Your stomach tightened and your eyes began to water, but you bit back the tears. You refused to weep for a place that could not be saved. Doing so would be too close to mourning.

You weren’t ready to mourn your comfortable life yet.

So you puttered around the small ship. It had taken a little over a day to travel from Voubos to Coruscant, and you had found yourself staring out into passing hyperspace with the fascination of a small child. 

Scorch had laughed and told you that the streaking light of passing stars didn’t change over time, but that made no difference to you: it was something new and different. You had never left Voubos before, let alone traveled in hyperspace, and you were determined not to miss a moment. Well, between trips to the small refresher onboard the ship. You were having a fair bit of trouble adjusting to the intense speed of traveling this way. Dizziness and a mild headache were easily ignored, but your stomach was more vocally disagreeable.

When you had finally looked your fill at hyperspace - or, more accurately, when Boss had ordered you to sit down so you would stop stumbling through the cabin - you had explored the contents of the ship. Most of it was military technology and commando gear, both of which were too dangerous to mess with. There was a lot of wiring and machinery powering the ship, and you couldn’t even begin to fathom the intricacies of that. And then there was survival equipment for use in unexpected situations.

You had made the mistake of asking Sev what kind of situations would warrant use of the prepackaged foods, emergency blankets, and spare power packs. The commando had snorted and told you that you would never use the survival equipment. If something went wrong with the ship, you would most likely die in the initial incident. 

The trip became a lot less fun after that.

But the ship and all of its occupants had landed safely on Coruscant. You were inside the headquarters of the Republic’s army. More specifically, you were inside of a hangar. Scorch could complain about the monotony of hyperspace all he wanted, but it was nothing compared to the monotony of looking out through the narrow windows to see nothing but metallic gray walls and the occasional other ship. 

The most entertaining part of your surroundings by far were the white-armored troopers that occasionally rushed through the hangar. The design of their helmets was far more familiar, having been prominently displayed on every piece of Republic propaganda you had ever seen. Though the troopers mostly looked identical in the armor and looked very similar out of it, there were distinct differences in their attitudes and bearing.

But they worked efficiently and left, then you were alone in the hangar once more. The isolation quickly became a bad thing as thoughts of Voubos started to rise unbidden.

Your home was gone. There was no fighting that fact. You had watched the fire engulf the door you had lovingly painted yellow. Your windows had shattered as you stared into the shimmering light behind them. You had left before you had to watch your gardens wilt and die in the face of the incredible heat, but you could picture the curled remains of the year's crop.

You had planted squash last summer. There were a few plants you had been very proud of, and you had made plans about the recipes you would make with them. One recipe for spiced squash cakes had sounded particularly promising.

Before you knew what you were doing, you rose from your seat and started pacing a tight circle around the inside of the ship, taking deep breaths all the while. You weren't going to cry over squash. You refused. Yes, you had made plans for the way you wanted your life to be, but plans changed all the time. Life changed. At least you were alive to see it.

But you needed to get out of this ship or you were going to do something dramatic.

So you found the right button - half terrified that you were going to start some take-off process by mistake - and lowered the ramp before cautiously peeking out. You were just as alone as you had suspected you would be. 

A shiver went through you, and you hurried across the wide open expanse of the hangar.

When you had nearly reached the closest wall, you picked out a small detail that you had missed: there were control panels beside every door. You likely needed a code or an identification badge to get inside. It made sense - this was the military headquarters of a system actively at war. Security would be important.

Fortunately, the solution came in the form of a group of clone troopers. Not Delta Squad, of course. They were still in their meeting. These were ordinary troopers - as ordinary as any man could be after being literally created to fight a war. Their armor was painted in individual patterns, just like Delta Squad. Unlike Delta Squad, however, these men all wore paint of the same color: a dark, hunter green.

They stepped into the hangar, pausing when they saw you. You sent them a winning smile, hoping the quick sonic shower you had taken aboard Delta Squad’s ship had buzzed the mud from your hair and face. 

“Are you headed this way, ma’am?” one asked, politely pressing the button that would hold the door open instead of allowing it to close.

“Yes, I am,” you said with a nod. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he assured, shrugging before he fell back into conversation with his fellow soldiers. 

You quickened your pace slightly to get through the door before it did start to close, reaching the interior hallway with time to spare. As the door hissed softly closed behind you, cutting off your view of the hangar and Delta Squad’s ship, you took a curious look around your new surroundings.

They were… well, ‘gray’ wasn’t very descriptive, but it was the best adjective you could come up with.

Everything around you had been built in the spirit of function over form, and it showed. The hallway you were standing in was wide and painted a utilitarian gray, the floors black. The hallway stretched quite a long distance in both directions, a necessity if it wrapped around the hangar bay. The unmarked doors that lined the opposite side of the hallway were a slightly darker gray for differentiation against the gray walls, but you really weren’t sure if you would be able to find your way back to the hangar bay if you left. 

You glanced back at the door you were still standing in front of. It looked just like the others, but it was roughly twice the width of the rest of those in the hallway. What’s more, there was a number pad embedded in the wall to your right. Clearly, you wouldn’t be able to access it again until you were accompanied by someone else.

Maybe it was just the stress of having lost your home and having no real place in the galaxy, but you didn’t feel you had very much to lose at the moment. 

With one last look at the door, you started venturing down the hallway, making a left turn out of a sheer, baseless whim. You didn’t see anyone until you turned the next corner, where a group of troopers stood gathered in an intersection between the hallway around the hangar bay and one that cut off in a different direction.

This was going to be your true test, you felt. The troopers looked like they belonged there. Their white armor - not painted any other colors this time - worked with the gray and black of the hallways in a way that your clothing clearly did not.

As you approached, the troopers’ conversation trailed off and they watched you expectantly. You had decided not to stop walking, but you still made regular eye contact with the troopers simply because you were watching for their reaction to your unaccompanied presence. When you were ten paces away, their conversation dropped altogether and your heart began to race.

With only five paces between you, the troopers straightened. 

Three paces and they lifted their arms.

One pace and they offered you a neat salute.

You were so tense that it took a moment for that to settle in your mind… not soon enough. Surprised by the salutes, you glanced behind you as if to look for who they were saluting. Even as you made the ill-advised move, the truth of it hit you and you wanted to sigh at your own stupidity.

After far too much time had passed, you saluted them as well. The gesture was unfamiliar, and you ended up touching your fingertips to your temple as you stared at them in hope that you had done it correctly. Even then, your muscles automatically turned the motion into an attempt to smooth back your hair.

You smiled wryly at the troopers, who didn’t stop you as you passed. You wanted to offer a witty and well-worded comment about your own slip, but you didn’t dare speak. The few people you knew who had traveled off-world reported that most Voubosian accents were considered thick, and there was little you could do to hide yours if you spoke to the troopers.

Somehow, you passed without incident, though you heard one of the troopers scoff behind you. “Someone needs to take a few minutes to teach the jetii how to do a proper salute.”

Jetii? Was that an obscure reference to the Jedi? The ones that old spacers talked about performing miracles and magic across the galaxy? You smiled to yourself. You had never believed those tales, even when you were young enough that it would have been forgiven. You had been a naturally skeptical child, more concerned with the wonders of everyday life than the hypothetical tales of things that you had never seen yourself.

As you continued down the sterile white hallway, leaving the troopers to their superstitious tales, you were engrossed with the sheer size of the building. Big enough that it held a full hangar and - presumably - enough rooms to make all of these doors necessary. You knew that Coruscant was large and heavily populated, one of the most densely populated places in the galaxy, but you had never even pictured anything on this scale.

By the time you were starting to feel nervous, trying to remember how far back the troopers had been, a group of three people turned the corner and started moving toward you. One of them was a trooper carrying his helmet under his arm, his white armor heavily painted with dark green. It was the same green the troopers in the hangar had been wearing… and the same green of the other two figures’ skin. 

They were both female, garbed in dark robes with flowing scarves covering their heads. Both had skin of a similar hue - though not exactly the same, and you couldn’t trace any real resemblance between their facial features. They weren’t related then, not that you could see, though they had similar tattoos: simple diamonds done in a flat black. The markings trailed down the older female’s chin while they draped across the younger female’s nose.

You were nearly vibrating with excitement. Voubos had been populated almost exclusively by humans - the popular joke was that Voubos was the overflow for the rest of the galaxy’s population and, since humans were the most prevalent species in the galaxy… Perhaps it was only funny to Voubosians, now that you thought about it.

Still, you drank in the sight of the fascinating trio approaching you, remembering halfway through the space between you that they could see you as clearly as you could see them, and you needed to look like you belonged in this strange, labyrinthine building.

As you passed the females, the younger one gave a polite nod, one you returned readily enough. The trooper and the older female were deep in conversation. You heard the trooper refer to her as, “General,” and had to fight back another wave of awe. She was a general? You had never met a general before. What would it be like to command an army? Likely stressful and overwhelming, you reminded yourself sternly. You didn’t envy them their position, but it was fascinating enough to give you momentary pause.

By the time you finished processing all of that, you had passed the group by several paces. It was only when your footsteps echoed back at you from the walls that you realized the conversation had halted behind you.

“Excuse me?” a lilting voice asked.

There was no doubt she had been talking to you. You drifted to a stop, glancing back over your shoulder to find that all three were watching you curiously. Reluctantly, you turned, offering another nod and a friendly smile. It had sounded like the female had an accent… maybe you could get away with talking if you only did so in short sentences?

“Yes, uh… General?” you asked politely. 

The trooper and the younger female instantly frowned and you tried to keep your panic internal. What had you said? Was she not a general after all? Surely mishearing something like that was an innocent mistake. 

The maybe-general smiled kindly and took a few gliding steps toward you. “You seem to be lost. May I help you find something or someone?”

“I- I’m waiting for someone,” you told her. “A group of someones, actually.”

Stars, that had been too much speaking all at once. They would know you didn’t belong here. You cut yourself off, giving a self-deprecating smile.

“Where are you from?” she asked.

“Uh…” you trailed, knowing you sounded suspicious. Really, though, what would be worse? Pausing to think of where you were from? Or telling them you were from a planet that was occupied by the Separatists? Even if you told her you had been rescued from Voubos, you would get Delta Squad in trouble. Boss had told you specifically that recovering you wasn’t their mission and was a secret of sorts. “I’m sorry, I need to-”

“Wait,” she entreated, holding up a slim hand. “You have nothing to fear from me - from us. I wish only to help.”

“Help?” you repeated, frowning openly. “I’m sorry, I-”

She shook her head, somehow managing to convey both amusement and reassuring pity. "Come with me."

You eyed her for a second, well aware of the second female and the armor-covered trooper behind it. Then, because it didn't seem as though you had a choice, you went with her.

---

"As expected, the ARCs were able to complete the mission," Boss explained. "We waited nearby, but were never called into action and returned to Coruscant without incident."

Boss hated briefings like this. Delta Squad was capable of more, had done more in the past, but that was the way some missions went. For every mission that let a squad be heroes, there were half a dozen where they played a minor role or offered support to other squads.

It just made him itch to stand with those other squads and recap a mission when nothing had been done.

General Windu stroked his chin, doing his best to look like he was carefully considering what Boss had said. "Is there any reason to suspect that anyone noticed your presence outside of Zebitrope?"

"No, sir," he reported. It wasn't technically a lie. They had been noticed, but there was no reason the Seppies would tie their presence to a stealth mission that had taken place several planets away. Especially if it had gone as well as the ARCs had reported, Boss added sourly to himself.

The chiming of a comlink cut through whatever the general had been about to say. He glanced around the room, signaled for everyone to wait, and answered.

"Windu."

"Hello, Master Windu," a female voice greeted politely. "Master Luminara has requested that you join her in the council's chambers."

Windu's brow arched, though the caller clearly couldn't see it. "I am finishing with a briefing, Padawan Offee."

"My apologies, Master, but there is a bit of a situation and the Council is gathering."

"Situation," Windu repeated. "One moment."

When the general dropped his arm, it was to glance around the room. "Thank you all for your efforts on this mission as well as your timely and thorough reports. You are dismissed."

Delta Squad - having been the furthest from the door during the briefing - were the last to leave, which gave Boss enough time to hear General Windu resume his communication. 

"What is the situation, Padawan?" 

"Master Luminara found a strange woman wandering through the hangar area. She brought her to the Council's chambers to learn more about who she is and-" 

"I believe I am beginning to understand," General Windu said, shooting a dark look in Boss's direction. "I will be there shortly."

"But Master, you don't understand-" 

The padawan's explanation was cut short as the general disconnected the call. When he spoke, his voice was deliberately calm in the tense quiet of the briefing room. "I assume your secondary objective was achieved."

"Yes, sir," Boss agreed. "We didn't have time to drop her anywhere else on the way back."

"You had to have known that bringing a civilian into the GAR headquarters - a civilian from a Separatist planet, no less - was a poor choice."

"She has nowhere else to go, sir," Fixer added from behind Boss.

"I understand," General Windu told him, not unkindly, "and I commend you for your charity, but she cannot stay here."

One of the others shifted his weight and Boss recognized it clearly enough to cut off either Scorch or Sev, knowing that their responses wouldn't help your case. "Yes, sir. I would vouch that she's no traitor, though. With your leave, we'll collect her from the Council and find her a place to stay. We'll be back in a few hours, no more."

The general sighed. "I believe we might be able to help her get back on her feet. For all intents and purposes, she's a refugee from her planet, and the Jedi have systems in place to help refugees from the war. Now, we are expected at the Council's chambers."

"We, sir?" Scorch asked, the excitement in his voice inappropriate considering the tone of the situation. "You're letting us come along?"

The general gave the entire squad a knowing look. "If I told you to stay away, would it make a difference?"

No one had an answer to that - at least, not one that wouldn’t bring someone up on charges of insubordination - so the commandos followed General Windu out of the GAR headquarters and to the Jedi Temple.

By the time they arrived outside of the ornate doors leading to the Council's chambers, the squad was fascinated with this look into the Jedi's inner world. Fixer was subtly recording everything, Scorch was practically vibrating with excitement, and even Sev would study a particular detail as it caught his eye. Boss was interested, but most of his focus was on getting you back. As far as he was concerned, he had lost a man, and that was unacceptable.

When Delta Squad trailed into the room behind General Windu, they passed a confused-looking Mirialan female. She didn't speak, but she was far from the only one in the room. You were standing in the middle of the chairs that lined the room. An older Mirialan held a datapad with the screen facing away from you. Several other chairs were filled, the occupants watching you with interest.

"It's a flower," you said slowly, your accent even stronger than normal. Boss realized why when you glanced back over your shoulder at him, eyes bright with nerves and confusion.

"And this?" the Mirialan asked.

You frowned. "A battle droid."

"All correct," the female said, and only then did Boss recognize her as General Unduli of the 41st. "Master Yoda?"

The diminutive leader of the Jedi Order was impossible not to recognize, especially when he began to speak. "Likely it is that found someone sensitive to the will of the Force, we have."

General Windu stepped into the conversation without hesitation, though he had only recently arrived. "Did your parents ever mention someone speaking to them about the Jedi Order?"

"No, never," you admitted. "To be honest, I thought the Jedi were just a legend until an hour ago."

“Master Nu?” Yoda asked. “Have light to shed on this matter, do you?”

"I have searched her name in the records of past Holocrons," an elderly human woman said from an unobtrusive place in the corner. "It does not appear on any of the lists, even when I expanded the age range five years above and below the correct one."

Yoda gave a thoughtful hum and the rest of the room’s occupants seemed content to sit in silence. You cast another look back in Boss’s direction, and he felt a flush of guilt that he was unable to help you. 

"Have we performed a Midichlorian test?" Windu asked.

"That was our next and final step," General Unduli said. She rested the datapad on the wide arm of her chair, picking up a smaller, round device instead. After getting your permission, she lanced your finger and let the machine soak in the small drop of blood that had been produced.

The machine whirred for a few moments, then made a small beep. Unduli glanced down at it and gave a nod. "As we suspected: the numbers are high, but they fall short of the range for a Jedi."

That seemed like a definitive answer to Boss's untrained ears, but it did nothing to cut the tension in the room. Instead, the air grew even thicker. 

You had picked up on it, too. Glancing around at the Council, you asked, "What does that mean, exactly?" 

"Have a mystery on our hands, we do," Yoda explained unhelpfully. 

"The Jedi Order only accepts students at or above a certain percentage of Midichlorians in their blood," General Windu told you, turning just enough that Delta Squad felt included in the explanation. "It has to do with how well they can connect with the Force. Those who aren't strong enough are left alone, and their abilities eventually fade. On the rare occasion that they retain a small connection to the Force, they are known as 'Force sensitive'. Most Force sensitive beings cannot use or direct the Force, but they are more susceptible to understanding its will."

"So I'm Force sensitive?" you asked, frowning.

"Not exactly," General Unduli denied slowly. "You… If you'll forgive the imprecision of the language, your Force signature feels like that of a Force-user. Your connection to the Force is strong. That leaves you in a unique position. Your abilities cannot have faded over time, or you would have started off powerful enough to have been on the Holocron list for your birth cycle. It is unheard of, but perhaps your abilities are growing."

"Can you remember consciously affecting your surroundings?" General Fisto asked, speaking for the first time.

You shook your head. "No, never."

Boss made a disagreeing noise. Windu asked, "Something to share, Sergeant?"

Boss nodded to his general, but did you the courtesy of speaking directly to you. "When we rescued you on Voubos, we didn't know where to start looking after we saw that your house had been burned. It felt like we were being pulled toward the river and that's when we saw you. Even when I was on the tree, I wasn't fast enough to have caught you… but it was like I was being pulled to the right spot so I would get there fast enough."

"Really?" you asked, sounding awed. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Boss shrugged. "It would have sounded unbelievable. And besides, when you're in an intense situation like that, it can seem like you're being guided by someone else when it's really just instincts."

"That is true," General Unduli conceded. "Is there anything else? Perhaps a way you've been influenced by the Force?"

"Not that I can think of."

"What prompted you to let four strange men stay in your home?" General Windu asked abruptly. “You had never seen a commando before, correct?”

You froze for a moment, thinking over the question. Boss could feel the way Fixer, Sev, and Scorch had frozen as well, the whole squad's attention sharpening as they waited for the answer to a question they had been asking themselves.

“I… had a good feeling about them,” you admitted eventually, your voice soft. “They needed a place to stay - the forests on Voubos aren’t safe at night - and… my gut told me that no one in Delta Squad meant me any harm.” You gave a self-deprecating smile and shrugged. “I wish I had a better explanation, but I don’t.”

"Sounds like a connection to the Force, you have," Yoda said and you frowned at him.

"No, it's just… a gut feeling. Instinct."

"And how often do you experience these instincts?" Master Nu asked.

You shrugged. "Not at any certain intervals. They just happen, especially when I'm in situations that are new or feel dangerous."

Privately, Boss thought you may have a point. That didn't sound like Jetii stuff to him, just instincts, like any good soldier formed over time. The next moment, he corrected his own thoughts. You weren't a soldier and you hadn't had the time or cause to form instincts through experience. Maybe it was some kind of mystical power.

"Barriss, was there something you wished to add?" General Unduli asked, speaking to the young Mirialan.

"If I may, masters," she started respectfully.

General Windu made an encouraging gesture. "Go on, Padawan Offee."

The female, one Boss had only just realized was Commander Offee, inclined her head and said, "I have been trained to be aware of my surroundings, as has Commander Gree. Neither of us recognized that anything was amiss. Further investigation of the GAR headquarters found that she had passed at least two other groups of seasoned troopers. None of them were suspicious of her, either. I believe she may be able to manipulate her signature to pass unnoticed by most."

"A useful talent," General Fisto remarked, "particularly in wartime."

General Windu glanced around the room and, when no one made any further comments, nodded. "We will need to discuss this matter further. Padawan Offee, escort Delta Squad and their friend downstairs. See if you can find her some clothes and then a hot meal for all of them. Wait for us to contact you." 

"Yes, Master," Commander Offee agreed with a graceful nod, leading the group out of the ornate Council chambers.

---

Author's Note - I know this seems like the most basic, self-indulgent, time-worn premise for a fic, but I promise I'm going to try to put an interesting spin or two on it! Feel free to let me know what you thought or take me to task for waiting so long to update - dealer's choice!

Thanks for reading, have a great day!

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#Refuge #refuge #refuge fic #star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars legends #star wars prequels #star wars republic commando #republic commando #delta squad #sergeant boss #fixer #scorch #sev #star wars reader insert #reader insert fic #reader insert #clone troopers deserve better #more to come #luminara unduli #barriss offee #commander gree #mace windu #yoda #jocasta nu #kit fisto