rex-meshla

[rex-meshla]

Star Wars is no longer for middle aged dudebros; its for girlies simping over the copy 'n' paste men

[rex-meshla]

can somebody please write something about Darth Revan?

there isn't enough content about him

[rex-meshla]

RANCOR BATTALION | Commander Blitz

kind of amazed at what 4 layers of shadows can do

it's far from perfect, but considering this is my first week using Procreate, it's not too bad (I think?)

[rex-meshla]

Shadows of the Force

PAIRING | Captain Rex x F!OC (Stella Cardone) WORD COUNT | 1.3k PREVIOUS CHAPTER TAGLIST | @cw80831

Chapter 6: Captain No-nonsense

Back on the cruiser after the mission, the clones invited me to join them in the mess hall. They'd grown comfortable enough to treat me like one of their own, and the easy banter between them was refreshing.

"So, how's it going with Captain No-Nonsense?" Jesse asked with a grin, as he spooned a mouthful of rations.

I raised an eyebrow. "Captain No-Nonsense?"

Fives laughed. "You heard him. Rex isn't exactly... chatty"

I smirked, glancing down at my food. "Well, he's thorough. And he keeps me out of trouble"

Echo chuckled, nudging Fives. "Yeah, that's Rex for you. Not one for small talk, but the first to have your back when things go sideways"

Kix raised a brow. "Bet he's already given you the classic Rex pep talk"

I shook my head, laughing. "No pep talk, but he did tell me my form needs work"

They groaned in unison, and Jesse laughed. "It's a miracle! He must actually like you if he's already bothered with the form speech"

Their laughter filled the mess hall, catching Rex's attention from across the room. I noticed him glance our way before returning to his datapad, his expression unreadable but somehow warmer than usual. Fives nudged me with a knowing grin.

"Careful, Stella" Fives teased, "Captain No-Nonsense's got a sharp eye for potential"

"Yeah," Jesse added with a grin, "but don't let it go to your head. Rex doesn't hand out compliments for free"

"Good to know" I said, glancing over my shoulder. "Though with him, potential probably just means I survived the mission without tripping over my own feet"

Fives chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Well, surviving your first mission is a big step up from the shiny recruits we usually get. Most of them don't even make it through the first round without spraining something"

"Or falling flat on their face" Kix chimed in, giving me a wink. "Though I'm sure the Captain would say it a bit more... formally"

Echo grinned. "Oh yeah, he'd say something like, 'Coordination is crucial to mission success, trooper.' Always makes it sound like he's about to draft a report"

I laughed, catching their contagious energy. "And I thought my training at the Jedi Temple was intense. Are you guys saying Rex has a whole handbook of these phrases?"

Echo nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "Oh, he's got a whole archive of them, believe me. We call it Rex-speak. After a while, you just get used to translating it"

Fives leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "You'll know he really likes you if he skips the Rex-speak altogether and gives you the simple version. Until then, brace yourself"

I shook my head, grinning. "Sounds like I've got a lot to learn"

Echo glanced over at Rex, who was still focused on his datapad, his brow furrowed. "He's like that with everyone he cares about, you know. Doesn't go easy on the people he wants to keep alive"

A pause settled over the table as they all looked down at their plates, a moment of quiet respect for their captain. Finally, Jesse broke the silence with a mischievous smile. "Still, if he starts calling you by your first name, that's when you know you've made it"

"Jesse, we all know that's a lie" Fives shot back. "Rex doesn't even call me by my name half the time"

Echo laughed. "Keep dreaming, Fives. Some of us might actually make it to first-name status someday"

Jesse grinned, turning back to me. "But you, Stella? You might be the exception. So, if you ever catch him saying more than three sentences to you at once, you'll know you're in"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Noted. Guess I'll keep my ears open for that three-sentence miracle"

After we wrapped up in the mess hall, I headed down to the hangar for a quick equipment check. The boys trailed after me, still joking around as they finished their rations. I spotted Rex already there, running a routine inspection over one of the gunships.

As I approached, he looked up, his expression as steady as ever but with that subtle focus he wore when things were about to get serious.

"Padawan Cardone," he started, nodding in acknowledgment. "You did well today. But remember to keep your focus on your surroundings; you were a little close to Jesse's line of fire back there. And watch your footing when you move in—staying low to the ground can help keep you out of sight"

My mouth opened, but I wasn't sure what to say. That had to be the longest set of sentences Rex had ever spoken to me.

The boys, who had stopped just behind me, went completely silent. Then, Fives muttered under his breath, "Did he just... say all that at once?"

Rex shot him a look, his jaw tightening as if he suddenly realized he'd broken his usual protocol. "Fives" he said in a firm voice, "I expect you to back me up on the next mission. The same goes for all of you"

Fives coughed, but the smirk in his eyes was unmistakable. "Yes, sir. Just... making a note of the record-length briefing, sir"

Jesse leaned over, whispering to me with a grin. "Looks like you got that miracle. The three-sentence threshold"

I gave him a nudge, trying to hide my own smile. "Looks like it. Guess he really does want to keep me alive"

Rex, pretending not to hear the whispers, only continued. "Stella, remember—potential's one thing, but discipline keeps you sharp. Keep up the focus, and you'll get there"

Kix raised a brow, muttering to Echo, "That's at least four sentences now. He must really mean it"

Rex exhaled sharply, looking over at them with raised eyebrows. "If you're done with commentary, maybe it's time you all ran through your own field reports"

"Yes, sir" they chorused, barely containing their laughter. They saluted with exaggerated formality, and then each of them gave me a quick thumbs-up as they left, smirking.

As they filed out, Rex looked at me, faintly amused despite himself. "They're good people, Stella. And so are you"

I nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed by the genuine, if subtle, approval in his voice. "Thanks, Captain"

He gave a small nod. "Get some rest. You'll need it"

As the rest of the squad left for the barracks, I lingered a little longer, watching Rex finalize the inspection of the gunship. My heart was still pounding, that mix of nerves and pride from his words still lingering.

"Something else you need?" Rex's voice was as steady as ever, but there was a faint glint in his eyes.

I hesitated. "I just... wanted to thank you. For looking out for me today"

He paused, giving me a slight nod. "It's my job. But you're adapting fast. I can't say that for every Padawan I've come across" His tone was low, as though he were sharing something just for me.

I smiled, feeling warmth at his words. "Coming from Captain No-Nonsense, I'll take that as a high compliment"

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Is that what they're calling me now?"

"Well..." I shrugged, biting back a grin. "Let's just say it's catching on. But, if it helps, I think they mean it in the best way"

Rex shook his head slightly, amused. "These boys never stop with the names" He glanced around the hangar, then added more quietly, "They trust you, Stella. That's a good sign"

With a final nod to Rex, I turned to head down the corridor, lost in thought—until Fives and Jesse doubled back to find me. 

"Hey, Earthling!" Fives called, giving me a playful nudge. "You coming, or what?"

Jesse threw Rex a knowing look. "We're off to run some... routine maintenance drills. You're invited, Captain" he added, his tone light but clearly expecting Rex to stay behind.

Rex's lips twitched with amusement. "Think I'll pass. Just don't let those 'routine drills' get you into trouble"

Fives shot him a wink. "No promises, sir"

As we walked down the corridor, Fives nudged me, eyebrows raised. "So... an actual conversation with the captain, huh?"

I chuckled. "Guess so"

Jesse glanced back with a smirk. "Better not get used to it. He'll probably be back to his usual yes and no by tomorrow"

We all burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the empty corridor, and for the first time, I felt like I truly belonged.

_____________________________________________________________

You can find my masterlist here x

[rex-meshla]

The Bad Batch animation

[rex-meshla]

Babysitting the 501st is a full time job and he’s not even getting paid.

[rex-meshla]

🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Steel Meets Silk

PAIRING | ARC Commander Colt x F!OC (Anastasia Husk) SUMMARY | Heiress to one of the galaxy's most powerful corporations, Anastasia "Stassie" Husk has lived a life of privilege, always in control-or so she thought. But as the shadows of war creep closer, her sheltered world begins to crack, revealing betrayals and secrets that could destroy everything WORD COUNT | 1.7k

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Prologue: The Weight of Perfection

The glass in my hand was as delicate as the conversations around me—smooth, effortless, as if it had all been carefully orchestrated. I smiled, barely listening to the conversation I'd heard a hundred times before: the same praise, the same hollow compliments, the same empty promises. They didn't know me; they only knew Alaric and Vivienne Husk's daughter, the perfect heir, polished and brilliant.

My life had been arranged, as precisely as a blueprint. Every piece of it sewn into place, like a suit that fit just a little too tight. Did anyone even see me, the girl behind the name, behind the forced smile? In moments like these, I wasn't sure I even saw myself. This world of polished surfaces, where a single misstep could crack the facade, and the pressure to be flawless felt less like a privilege and more like a trap.

Tonight, though, it all felt so... ordinary. The gala had all the usual ingredients—flickering chandeliers, hundreds of glasses of champagne clinking, the soft murmur of high society, their voices a soundtrack to the elegance of the room. Everything was perfectly arranged, and I was, as always, a part of it. The perfect daughter. The perfect heir to the Husk legacy. The perfect everything.

Talk of the war swirled in the background, muffled voices in a world that felt so far removed from me. It was almost amusing how such distant concerns could dominate the galaxy when, here in my world, all I had to worry about was making sure my dress didn't snag on the edge of the table. The Republic's fight for peace was a story I'd read in the news, a conflict I rarely thought about. It wasn't my fight.

"Stassie, darling, you look radiant tonight," a voice cut through my thoughts. I turned to see Padmé standing there, her eyes softer than I'd expected. Unlike most people here, she looked at me as though she saw past the sparkles and smiles, to someone else underneath.

I turned, my smile widening as I spotted Padmé. Even in a room full of accomplished individuals, she always stood out. Not just because of her beauty, but because of the quiet strength she exuded. There was something in the way she carried herself that made you feel like the world was a little more manageable when she was around.

"Thank you," I replied with a smile. "And you, as always, have that 'I'm about to save the galaxy' glow about you."

Padmé's voice, smooth and calm, was a stark contrast to the buzzing energy of the gala around us. She wasn't just a senator; she was a woman who carried the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders, and it showed in the quiet intensity with which she spoke.

"You know, Stassie," she began, her gaze drifting past the sparkling chandeliers to the horizon outside, "there are days when I wish the war had never reached us here, this far from the front lines. I'm sure it all seems so distant from where you stand, but I've seen firsthand what it does. People think it's just the battles. But it's the ripple effect, the way it shifts everything. The market. The people. Even those we thought we could trust." Her voice softened for a moment, a shadow crossing her face. "I was at a memorial service for a friend last week. A fellow senator. Just... gone. The war's touch is far-reaching, and you never know when it will come knocking."

I glanced at her, startled by the hint of vulnerability in her tone. Padmé, the epitome of composure, was rarely so open, but the weight of her words struck me in a way I hadn't anticipated. My mind spun, trying to reconcile the serene world I knew with the dark reality she was painting.

I forced a smile, though it felt thin. "I suppose I'm lucky. It all feels so far away from here."

Padmé's gaze lingered on me for a moment longer. "Lucky, yes. But don't let that shield you from what's coming. It doesn't take much for the world to change. Sometimes, it's just one unexpected moment. Your family's business, your father's influence... It all becomes part of the bigger picture. Don't wait until it's too late to realize how much it matters."

Her words hung in the air, and for a second, I couldn't decide if I should be worried or grateful for her warning. There was a tension in her eyes, a silent plea for me to understand something more than the glittering world I was so comfortable in. But I didn't know how to move beyond that distance yet.

As the evening wore on, the conversation around me started to die down, and the glow of the gala seemed to flicker out in slow motion. The guests began to thin out, the glittering crowd dispersing like a fading dream. But there was one person who had remained, even as the others left.

Father always lingered just a little longer, as if savoring every moment, like a man who knew the value of time.

I spotted him across the room, standing by a tall window with a perfect view of the stars. He was surveying the crowd, his sharp blue eyes never missing a detail. But when they landed on me, something shifted in his expression, more than just pride. There was something else. Something I couldn't quite place.

I excused myself from the conversation I'd been caught in, moving toward him with a purposeful stride. As I approached, he looked me up and down with that familiar calculating gaze, but this time, there was a warmth in his eyes that made my chest tighten.

"Stassie," he said, his voice low and steady. "Come here for a moment."

I stopped in front of him, offering a small, questioning smile. "What's on your mind, Father?"

He studied me for a long moment, as though seeing me not just as his daughter, but as the young woman I was becoming. "You're growing up," he said softly, almost to himself. "And it's time you understood just how serious that is."

I frowned slightly, unsure of where this was headed. "What do you mean?"

"You're not just the heir to this business, Anastasia. You're the future of it. And I've worked too hard to let anything—or anyone—stand in your way."

His grip on my shoulder was firm, but I kept my gaze steady, resisting the urge to pull away. "Of course," I replied smoothly, the word tasting bitter. Did he ever wonder what I wanted, what my future could look like if I weren't shaped to fit his plans? But I knew better than to ask. In our world, even the tiniest crack in the mask could cause everything to come crashing down.

"I know that," I replied, trying to keep the unease out of my voice. "But things have always been... well, they've always been good."

My father's smile was soft, but his eyes grew more serious. "Good is never enough. Good doesn't get you through the next challenge, the next hurdle. It's time for you to prepare for the real work ahead."

I blinked, processing his words. "The real work?"

"Yes," he said, his voice low and resolute. "You're about to step into a new chapter, Stassie. The one where the stakes are higher, the pressure greater. And you'll face challenges that will test everything you've learned so far."

A sudden weight settled over me, the kind that only came when my father spoke in that tone—the tone that signified no turning back. I wasn't just his daughter anymore. I was becoming a part of something far bigger than myself. And whether I liked it or not, I was about to see just how serious it all was.

"You're ready for this," he added, his voice full of quiet confidence. "I know it."

His words were measured, like everything else he did. I wanted to believe I was ready. But the tightness in my chest told me something else. I wasn't sure I was ready for whatever was coming. Or for him to see me the way he did.

As the night stretched on and the last of the guests began to file out, I stood with my father, surrounded by a soft hum of distant chatter. His words, though, echoed in my mind, a slow drip of reality that I couldn't quite shake. The real work ahead. The pressure. The stakes.

I glanced at him, noticing how the years had worn away at the sharpness of his features, leaving only the resolute, steady presence I had come to rely on. His gaze softened when it met mine again, and the pride in his eyes made something inside me tighten. But it wasn't just pride. It was expectation. And that was what made it heavy.

"We've got a few more hours of this before I get back to the grind," I said lightly, trying to steer the conversation into something I could control, something that didn't carry that weight.

Father chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "You think this is just another meeting? Another gala?"

I swallowed, feeling the edge of my smile falter for a moment. "No, but I'm used to everything running smoothly. I'll be fine, Father."

His gaze remained steady, and for a brief moment, I saw the quiet storm that sometimes hid behind the polished exterior. "You don't get to be fine anymore, Anastasia. Not in this world. Things are about to change, and you need to be ready for that."

I stood there in silence, feeling the weight of his words press against my chest. The room had emptied, the glittering crowd gone, but it felt like the real event had just begun. My father's gaze never wavered, as if he were preparing me for something I wasn't yet ready to see.

"Remember this moment, Stassie," he said, his voice low. "The world doesn't care about your comfort, your plans, or your expectations. It doesn't wait. It only takes."

As the last of the guests filtered out, I lingered there, caught between my father's quiet certainty and the distant echo of Padmé's warning. The noise of the evening seemed to dissolve, and I was left with my thoughts only. The path ahead was already laid out before me, and it wasn't as simple as I had imagined.

I glanced once more at my father, his figure standing resolute in the dimming light, and something within me shifted. The weight of expectation, the world beyond these walls, and the challenges I had yet to face—all of it settled into place. I wasn't just playing a part anymore. I was about to step into something far bigger.

And I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.

But I knew, in that moment, that I didn't have a choice.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

I'm so happy that this Commander Colt fic is finally coming to life 🥹

You can find the next chapter here and my masterlist here x

[rex-meshla]

Drew Hunter from the Bad Batch for my friend on Instagram for Bad Batch Week. This was a « surprise » drawing, but she low(high) key wanted Hunter in blacks dual wielding haha.

[rex-meshla]

🤭

the more I write about Colt, the more I find myself crushing on him 👉🏼👈🏼

[rex-meshla]

Me when Clones:

[rex-meshla]

More Than That

Pairing: Captain Rex x reader

Summary: Something has been on your mind, but you should have known your lover Rex would see right through you.

WC: 1,150

CW: A little angsty (secret relationship, anger over the tragedy of the clones, pining) with a happier ending, hurt/comfort, a side of fluff, sweetheart Rex, mando’a words.

A/N: here’s 1,100+ words that literally fell out of my brain after I got out of work tonight. Lately I’ve been thinking too much about the clones creation (as one does) and I guess this is where it decided to come out 🤷🏼‍♀️ Barely proofread. Also don’t come at me if I got the mando’a sentence structure wrong kthnx.

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum = 93.5% sure that means I love you. source

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Meshla?” Rex's gloved fingertips brushed the inside of your arm, pulling you from your distant thoughts and into the familiar whirlwind of sensations his touch always ignited in you. Not just his touch, everything about him from his warmth to his scent to the sound of his voice had a magnetic effect on you.

Instead, you stiffened and gently pulled away, wrapping your arms around yourself.

"Rex... sometimes I just can't think straight when you're touching me," you murmured, regret coloring your voice. "I'm sorry." You stepped back, and he let his hand fall to his side.

His eyes softened, concern in his gaze. "Hey," he said in a low voice. "It's okay." He removed his gloves and extended his hand, leaving the choice to touch him up to you. "Talk to me?" he encouraged softly. You took several steadying breaths before sliding your hand into his, his touch now grounding you as he guided you to the stack of crates in the corner.

Rex waited for you to sit before settling next to you, the small space seeing you pressed together from shoulder to knee. He then sat stoically at your side as you sorted through your thoughts.

Anger bubbled into your throat at your own selfish feelings—the fear of losing Rex suddenly in battle, and the anguish in knowing that if he survived to the end of the war, the cruel reality was that the Kaminoans had engineered the clones with a half life. It wasn't fair. Yet, you refused to say anything that might make Rex feel compelled to console you about the tragedy of the clone's existence—one he was already well aware of.

“It’s something I need to make peace with myself, Rex.” You smiled softly up at him. “I know you’d swoop in with a daring rescue if you could, but you already have to bear so many burdens…let me keep this one for you.”

Rex regarded you carefully, his golden eyes searching your face. You loved how his eyebrows furrowed so deeply when he was trying to sort you out.

He reached out, hesitating for just a moment before brushing his thumb across your cheek. The tender gesture made your heart ache, knowing that even these small moments of affection were stolen between duties and battles. His touch lingered, as if memorizing the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips.

“There’s something else.” he said in a low voice. It wasn’t a question.

You chuckled a little at how intensely perceptive your sweet Captain was becoming lately. He was spending too much time with Ahsoka. You sighed, steeling yourself for what you were about to say.

"You've always meant more to me than those moments we were able to steal away. I know we agreed it was best to keep that way but…Rex I…I can't pretend anymore," you said softly before locking eyes with him, chest tightening, knowing that opening this conversation would likely prompt him to end things—he was far too honorable to drag you through whatever anguish he thought might lay ahead.

Rex's eyes fluttered closed, a flicker of what looked like pain crossing his features before he schooled his expression. He took a deep breath, his hand tightening around yours. "I understand," he said softly, his deep voice thick with emotion. "But I need you to know something first."

“That it’s over?” you quipped, voice cracking. Kriff. You swore you wouldn’t shed tears in front of him. He’d just want to try to fix something that neither of you had the power to change.

Rex's eyes softened. "No, cyar'ika. He sighed and you felt his hand squeeze yours gently. “That I love you." His voice was low, earnest, filled with an emotion that made your heart pound.

Your head snapped up to regard him as you processed his words. Love? That ember for him that you'd been so carefully guarding, afraid to even name, was suddenly thrust out in the open. Your eyes searched his face, looking for any hint of hesitation or doubt, but you found only sincerity and a rare flicker of fear in his gaze.

"I know our situation is… complicated, but how I feel about you isn’t."

"Rex, I..." you started, your voice barely above a whisper. The words you'd been holding back for so long threatened to spill out all at once. "Stars, we've kriffed up," you burst into a fit of watery laughter, your deep anxiety finally bubbling over now that he'd confessed what you'd been so afraid to.

Rex chuckled softly, and you loved how the sound rumbled deep within his chest, how his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Maybe just a little," he admitted, bringing your hand to his lips. Ever the gentleman. "But I wouldn't change anything." His eyes slid over to yours, vulnerability and hope shining in them. "So, what now?"

“I wish I knew…” you wiped at your damp cheeks with your free hand.

A sly look crossed his features, “Well…usually when someone tells you they love you…”

“You usually say it back," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the tears still glistening in your eyes. Your heart raced as you took a deep breath, gathering your resolve.

“Ner cyare…” you murmured, reaching out to touch his face. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum…”

Rex's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and joy flickering across his face as he recognized the Mando'a phrase tumbling from your lips. His grip on you tightened, and he pulled you closer to press his forehead against yours. His voice a low rumble as he responded, "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar'ika."

Lost in the warmth of him, the weight of your shared confession settled over you like a comforting blanket. This moment eclipsed all your previous encounters in this room. Even if just for a moment, you glimpsed a future where you could truly cherish every precious moment with Rex, even knowing how short your time together might be.

"May I kiss you now, meshla?" Rex murmured, his eyes flickering to your lips.

“Please…” you breathed.

His lips met yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head as if you were something precious. The kiss was slow, sweet, and filled with all the still unspoken words you’d both been harboring. When you finally parted, Rex rested his forehead against yours once again, his thumb brushing away the remnants of tears on your cheek.

“Be mine,” he whispered against your lips. “Ner cyare…”

You smiled against him, your heart overflowing with love and hope despite the uncertainty that lay ahead. "I've always been yours," you whispered back, sealing your words with another tender kiss. The galaxy might be at war, but in this moment, wrapped in Rex's arms, you found your home.

[rex-meshla]

the more I write about Colt, the more I find myself crushing on him 👉🏼👈🏼

[rex-meshla]

Mayday is so freaking gorgeous!

mine and @returnofthepineapple's collection thus far with so many of your additions! see under cut! Reblog and add more!

[rex-meshla]

Honored to be mentioned among so many talented people  🥹

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Ok, for clarity my criteria for CLONE CONTENT:

*Clone main character

*Clone supportive cast characters with a non clone main character

*Clone OC's

*Clones showing up SOMEWHERE significant in the fic. Not just one clone character who is in and out and the rest is non clone characters

Probably the ONLY exceptions that break the other above rules could possibly be the following (and PLEASE feel free to steal these ideas):

*Characters fighting for Clone Rights in the Senate, battlefield, another planet, etc where no physical clones are present, but their story is front row and center.

*Characters interacting in the story regarding the science or cloning actions of ANY of the Clone centered operations like on Kamino or any other planet, Hemlocks clone experimentation, shadowy cabal or Gov Tarkin planning something regarding the Clones, etc. where no physical clones are present, but their story is front row and center.

*I'm cool with ALL CLONE CONTENT TYPES: action packed, slow burn, mundane, clean, comfort, angsty, sad, heart breaking, tragic, cliff hangers, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, lovey-dovey, soothing, happy, domestic relationships, platonic relationships, hot romantic relationships, smut (off all kinds), aromantic, asexual, non-binary/genderfluid/gay/lesbian/bi/omni characters or targeted readers, baby batch, young cadet batch, etc. Your imagination is the limit!

READERS: PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNING ON THESE CREATORS FICS to make sure it's what you WANT to read! PLEASE BE DISCERNING DURING YOUR JOURNEY ON TUMBLR!!!

I am allowing some of the "problematic" ships.

AND BEFOR ANYONE COMES FOR ME, IT IS UP TO THE READER TO READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS ON THEIR JOURNEY IN "THE EYEBALL ZONE" WHILE READING FICS AND LOOKING AT VISUAL CONTENT.

I WILL NOT POLICE ANYONE.

NOT A FAN OF CENSORSHIP.

WILL NOT KINK SHAME.

THESE ARE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS.

IF YOU HAVE A PARTICULAR BEEF WITH A WRITERS CONTENT PLEASE TAKE IT UP WITH THEM. AND, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DO IT CONSTRUCTIVELY AND DO NOT HARRASS OR TROLL THEM.

I am only one person and cannot know what some people find offensive or not. Yep, it's the interwebs and there are some things that are gonna shock you...probably even shock me. I'll leave it up to you to make those decisions and control your own content consumption.

Thanks for understanding.

*The writer MUST have a visible pinned post of their work at the top of their page! Need to make it easy for those visiting the links to find their work. Also, at this time if they are ONLY on Wattpad or Ao3 WITHOUT a visible Tumblr link (pinned post that is easy to find), I cannot list them. Again, doing this for ease of locating work and available for people primarily on Tumblr.

Also, if you suggest a creator, PLEASE make sure you spelled their Tumblr name correctly. Thanks for understanding!

PLEASE send me some love too! I created this listing to not just help people find creatives, but to PROMOTE MY OWN Tumblr account. So go check out my fics. It's called networking, baby! <3

[rex-meshla]

Steel Meets Silk

PAIRING | ARC Commander Colt x F!OC (Anastasia Husk) WORD COUNT | 2.3k PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 TAGLIST | @cw80831

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Chapter 4: Crown of Expectations

The morning light spilled through the windows of the studio as I completed my first public statement, my voice ringing with carefully rehearsed confidence. The reporters nodded approvingly, cameras capturing every word.

"The Husk Corporation remains steadfast in its commitment to the community. We are working tirelessly to stabilize local markets and support both the Republic's efforts and our industries during this uncertain time. The Husk family has always believed in progress and innovation. Now, we must guide our people through the challenges ahead."

As the final words left my lips, I forced myself to breathe gently, hoping to get rid of the tightness that had built up in my chest. It did not. The congratulatory nods from reporters and the faint noise of cameras clicking felt distant and hollow. I knew I had hit every mark Kalden and his team had set for me. But the words didn't feel like mine. They never had. 

I pushed away the uncomfortable feeling that had taken place in my chest and forced myself to stand a little taller.

"Good work, Anastasia," Father said as he walked next to me. "Everything went according to plan. Of course, you'll do more of these, but this was a great beginning.

I reflected in what Father's words: Of course, you'll do more of these. No appreciation. No solace. Only the relentless expectation that this was only beginning.

"We'll join you for dinner tonight," he added, his tone casual but expectant. "We'll go over the key takeaways from today's appearance, and your mother will want to see you as well." 

I offered a small, polite smile. "Of course, Father."

Before I could add anything else, Kalden was up at my side. “The next step is a one-on-one interview. Prime coverage. Keeping up the momentum is crucial,” he stressed as he swept me away.

My head buzzed with residual tension, still tangled in the effort of maintaining my composure. Straighten your posture. Smile. Look confident.

The private set was smaller, more intimate. A single chair under a harsh spotlight. Across from it sat the interviewer, a man whose sharp eyes seemed to pick apart every detail of my presence. His smile was thin, practiced, and entirely devoid of warmth.

"Miss Husk," he greeted as I took my seat. "Thank you for joining us today. I'm sure your schedule is very... demanding."

"Of course," I replied, my voice measured, my tone polite.

The first few questions were straightforward. He asked about the Husk Corporation's recent initiatives, our alignment with the Republic, and how we were contributing to local economic stability. I delivered my answers with precision, each one crafted to reinforce the image we had so meticulously constructed. But then, his tone shifted.

"I'm sure the public is curious," he began, leaning forward slightly, his gaze narrowing. "What qualifies you, specifically, to speak on behalf of the Husk Corporation? Your background doesn't exactly scream 'business expert,' does it?"

The question felt like a slap, but I kept my expression neutral, willing the flush of anger to stay beneath the surface. "I've been immersed in the workings of the Husk Corporation my entire life. I've seen firsthand the values and principles that guide us, and—"

"Seen firsthand," he interrupted with a tight smile. "That's different from actually doing the work, isn't it? Many might argue that your presence here is purely symbolic—more about image than substance."

The word symbolic landed like a punch. It was an accusation I'd heard whispered behind closed doors, one I had worked tirelessly to rise above. My jaw tightened, but I refused to let him see it.

"I believe actions speak louder than assumptions," I replied evenly. "The Husk Corporation's actions, under my guidance, will speak for themselves."

His grin widened slightly, as though he were enjoying this. "And what about the critics who say the Husk Corporation profits more from the war than it gives back? Some might call it exploitation, Miss Husk. How would you respond to that?"

I felt a spark of anger flicker to life. He wasn't just asking questions—he was throwing jabs, testing me, waiting for me to crack. My pulse quickened, but I kept my voice calm.

"I would say that those critics fail to see the bigger picture. The Husk Corporation is committed to supporting the Republic and the local economy during this difficult time. Our initiatives are designed to ensure stability for everyone."

"Yet, one could argue that your family benefits significantly more than everyone. How would you address that?"

I could feel the tension in my shoulders, the pressure to maintain composure pressing down on me like a weight. "As I said," I replied, forcing my voice to remain steady, "our actions will speak for themselves. The Husk Corporation is focused on long-term progress, not just short-term gain."

His smile faltered, just slightly, the calculated jabs having less impact than he'd hoped. The questions kept coming, each one more pointed than the last, but I refused to let him rattle me. By the time the interview ended, I felt like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap. But the mask I wore—the serene, confident exterior—hadn't cracked.

"Thank you for your time, Miss Husk," he said, his tone dripping with false civility as the cameras powered down. "Quite enlightening."

I forced a polite smile and rose from my seat, resisting the urge to fire back with something equally cutting. 

Kalden was waiting for me just outside the set, his expression a mixture of admiration and concern.

"You handled that well," he said quietly. "He was tougher than we expected."

"I'm fine," I replied, though the tightness in my chest told a different story. "Is there anything else scheduled for today?"

Kalden shook his head. "That's all for now."

I stepped into the corridor, the air outside the studio felt heavier than it should have. Colt stood waiting, his expression unreadable.

"Your father sent me," he said simply. "He wanted to make sure you were all right."

I sighed, glancing away. "I'm fine. Just another part of the job."

"You didn't look fine back there," he said bluntly.

His words caught me off guard, cutting through the practiced calm I'd spent the morning perfecting.

I turned to face him fully, my gaze locking onto his. "You watched?"

"I'm your security detail," he replied, his tone even. "I'm always watching."

I let out a bitter laugh. 

"I suppose it's easy for you, isn't it? Everything so straightforward. Orders, duty, purpose."

His brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his otherwise stoic face. "It's not always easy. But it's clear."

"Clear." The word tasted bitter on my tongue. "Must be nice, living in a world where nothing weighs you down."

He paused, his gaze steady. "Things weigh me down, Miss Husk. I've just learned not to let them show."

The honesty in his words silenced me. I turned away, looking out at the city skyline beyond the window. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing the right thing."

Colt didn't answer immediately, but his presence beside me was grounding in its own way. Finally, he said, "You handled that interview better than most would. They'll respect you for it. Even if they don't say it."

His words were unexpected, and for a moment, the mask I wore cracked. I looked at him, a small, genuine smile tugging at my lips.

"Thank you," I said softly.

He nodded, his expression softening ever so slightly, and extended an arm toward the exit.

The ride home was quiet, but my thoughts were anything but. The interviewer’s pointed questions replayed in my mind like a bad holo-reel. His smirk. His insinuations. The way he’d dissected me piece by piece, as though I were just another headline to manipulate.

By the time we arrived at the estate, I felt like I was running on autopilot. The head housekeeper, met me at the door, her ever-present warmth trying to pierce through my exhausted haze.

“Miss Anastasia,” she said with a small bow. “Your parents are waiting in the drawing room. Your father mentioned a debrief.”

The debrief. Because it wasn’t enough to live through it once. I’d have to relive it again. “Thank you,” I murmured, my voice mechanical. “I’ll be there shortly.”

Before heading to the drawing room, I made a detour to the library. The smell of old books grounded me in a way that few other things could, and the peaceful, dimly lit room provided a little escape. I closed my eyes and slipped into a chair beside the window, allowing the stillness wrap around me.

But my solitude didn’t last long.

“Miss Husk?” Colt’s voice was quiet but firm, pulling me from my thoughts. I opened my eyes to find him standing just inside the doorway, his broad frame silhouetted against the warm light spilling from the corridor.

“Yes?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.

“Your father asked me to check on you,” he simply answered.

“Of course he did.” The bitterness in my voice surprised even me. “Tell him I’ll be there shortly.”

Colt didn’t move. “You’ve had a long day.”

The observation was so straightforward, so painfully obvious, that it pulled a laugh from me, dry and humorless. “And here I thought you didn’t deal in subtleties.”

“I don’t,” he replied. “But I can tell when someone’s had enough.”

I met his gaze, something unspoken passing between us. For all his stoic detachment, there was a sincerity in his words that I couldn’t ignore.

I shook my head, trying to push past the lump forming in my throat. “It doesn’t matter. There’s always more to do. Another meeting, another appearance. That’s the life I’ve been given.”

Colt stepped further into the room. “Do you ever tell them no?”

The question caught me off guard, and I stared at him, unsure how to respond. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” he pressed, his voice calm but firm. “You’re their daughter, not just another employee.”

I looked away, my gaze falling to the floor. “Because it’s what’s expected of me. And if I don’t meet those expectations, who else will?”

For a moment, Colt said nothing. Then he took a step closer, his presence steady and grounding. “Sometimes, people expect too much.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. And I just sat there, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on me.

Finally, Colt broke the silence. “I’ll let your father know you’ll be along soon.”

As he turned to leave, I found myself speaking before I could stop. “Colt.”

He paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, the words barely above a whisper.

He nodded once, his expression softening ever so slightly, before disappearing down the corridor.

I closed my eyes briefly, inhaling deeply in an attempt to shake the exhaustion that had seeped into my bones. You can do this, I told myself. One more conversation. Just one more thing. I took a deep breath and made my way to the drawing room.

Father sat at the head of the table, a datapad in hand. Mother sat next to him, her grace exuding a sense of subdued authority. As I walked in, their gazes shifted to me, and Father's face instantly softened into a proud expression.

“Ah, Anastasia,” he said, gesturing for me to take the seat across from them. “Good timing. Sit. Let’s discuss today’s success.”

I slid into the chair, folding my hands neatly in my lap as I met his expectant gaze. He went on before I could say anything, his tone measured but full of contentment.

“You handled yourself well today,” he said, tapping at his datapad. “I’ve already received commendations from several key contacts. This is exactly what the Husk Corporation needs right now.”

The beginnings of a protest stirred in my chest, but I pushed it down as a server entered with dinner. Father barely paused to acknowledge it before diving into his plans for the future.

“We’ll need to keep up the momentum,” he said, glancing at me. “Upcoming interviews, speaking engagements, public appearances. All critical to maintaining our image as the pillar of strength the market needs right now.”

I took a small bite of my appetizer, though my appetite had disappeared. 

“Of course,” I murmured, the words felt automatic, detached. My gaze flickered toward Mother, who watched me closely.

“Sweetheart,” she began, her voice soft but insistent, “you understand, this isn’t only about the business.” Her eyes met mine, steady and unyielding, as though she could see the questions bubbling beneath my carefully composed surface. “People see us as symbols. It’s important they continue to do so. Your image, our family’s name, it’s more than just a contribution to the war effort. It’s about legacy. It’s about maintaining trust and honor.”

Legacy. Image. Trust. Her words pulled me farther into a life I hadn't chosen, wrapping around me like invisible chains. à

More than ever, the weight of their expectations fell firmly on me, serving as a reminder that carrying the Husk name wasn't just a privilege but also a duty and a relentless burden.

I set my fork down carefully, willing my voice to remain steady. “I understand,” I said, though the tightness in my chest betrayed the calm exterior I presented. “I’ll do what’s needed.”

With a contented nod, Father started discussing the agenda for tomorrow.

The rest of the meal passed in a blur of plans and expectations. My responses became automatic, my voice distant, as I let Father outline my future in painstaking detail. I knew better than to interrupt. To him, every engagement, every appearance was another brick in the fortress of the Husk Corporation’s reputation. And to Mother, every word spoken was another thread weaving the tapestry of our legacy.

By the time the plates were cleared, I felt like I could barely breathe. As we rose from the table, Father placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

“You’re doing well, Anastasia,” he said, his tone almost fond. “You’ll see—this is the role you were meant for.”

I forced a smile. “Thank you, Father.”

Mother stepped forward, smoothing her hand down my arm in a small gesture of reassurance. “We’re proud of you,” she said softly.

I murmured my thanks, retreating as soon as decorum allowed. My steps carried me back toward the sanctuary of the library, the voices of my parents still echoing in my mind.

When I reached the room, I didn’t bother turning on the lights. Instead, I sank back into the chair by the window, staring out at the moonlit gardens. For a moment, I allowed myself to feel the weight of everything I’d been holding back.

The expectations. The pressure. The endless demands.

What if this isn’t the life I’m meant to lead?

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You can find my masterlist here x

[rex-meshla]

Just wanted to say rq that I read ur Colt fic yesterday and it was super good!! I’ve always loved the man so I’m glad he’s getting some love here. Also my guilty pleasure is super cool OCs with intricate backgrounds involving elements of the world that elsewise aren’t explored, and I really like Anastasia and the whole corporate intrigue we’re getting. Thank u for writing and sharing the story!

Tysm for taking the time to share this! I’m so glad you're enjoying my fic 🥹

Your kind words mean everything. Thank you for reading and for this lovely message x

[rex-meshla]

my man Colt trying to get more screentime 🫣

During S3 E19, Counterattack, there is an animation error where Echo is replaced by Commander Colt, who died earlier that season.

This was obviously done unintentionally, but it almost foreshadows Echo becoming a part of Clone Force 99 (The Bad Batch).