#Captain Howzer fanfic

[starqueensthings]

Summary: June and Challa venture to the combat base for their first lecture. A pretty low-key chapter if I’m being honest, so I kept it pretty short (“short” used lightly lol) There’s a surprise, albeit brief, inclusion of one of our faves toward the end.

Rating/WC: all chapters are 16+ for subject matter unless otherwise noted | 3400ish words.

WARNINGS: none really… ellusions to past trauma but even that’s a stretch.

A/N: many of the named Clones in this chapter were borrowed from friends. Pals— thank you for letting me include your blorbos! “Friendly” is the creation of @multi-fan-dom-madness, “Siren” is the creation of @523rdrebel, and “Stretcher” is the creation of @a-single-tulip.

PLEASE ENSURE YOU’VE READ THE FOREWORD LINKED ABOVE FOR AN IN-DEPTH DESCRIPTION OF WHAT DEGREE OF CONTENT YOU CAN EXPECT THROUGHOUT THIS STORY BEFORE PROCEEDING.

FOREWORD | MASTER | PREV | NEXT | AO3

The following fortnight turned out to be reasonably uneventful… at least, as uneventful as one could wish for that ever-chaotic ward, and the return to that sense of frenzied normalcy was wholly embraced by the tired 23 year old who’d near-instantly regretted the covenant made with her boss, yet the addition of a salient spring in every step he took as he wove around that hyperactive department quickly affirmed he shared in none of her rue.

Hardly two rotations after recruiting her assistance, Challa had bounced into her office with an unnerving grin contorting his typically prosaic features, his hands rubbing together amid a gesture of unadulterated glee of which he hadn’t exuded in some time. Upon the realization that his sauntering gait wouldn’t be immediately followed by his notorious squeaky-chair vituperations, Jacoba had offered her boss an insouciant “good morning”, casting her best friend a knowing glance before returning her attention to the medical chart in front of her.

Despite having largely expected his visitation to their office in those succeeding days, the unrestrained joy beneath that impish smile had June damn-near frightened, and she hastened to nudge her rolling chair away from the desk as he threw himself into the seat opposite her with a euphoric sigh.

“Y’alright?” she’d asked him cautiously.

“Contract’s done,” he had answered whilst tossing a wad of white flimsi onto her desk, that cog embossment on the front page identical to the one that had adorned the previous edition.

But the uncharacteristic nature of that soft-eyed, toothy grin had rendered June near-paralyzed in her seat, blue eyes darting toward her companion at the neighbouring desk for any semblance of support or assistance, though Jacoba’s unprovoked postural shift in toward the other direction immediately laid bare that she was doing everything in her power to choke back the laughter rumbling in her chest.

Momentarily oblivious to the nonverbal communication of which the girls had mastered amid their decade together, Challa had continued to watch June with a degree of a pressing expectation, and he’d permitted only a handful of seconds to pass in her failure to retrieve it before simply nudging it further toward her.

“Go on!” he’d requested, rapping his knuckles atop the cover page. “Give it a look. The degree of your inclusion is elaborated on pages 64 to 89. And I think you’ll be quite pleased with the generous salary increase the President has allotted you on page 137–”

“Salary increase?!” Jacoba repeated, amusement melting from her features as she turned an aghast face toward them. “You gave the job to the girl who’s saved every credit she’s ever earned, while I’m over here trying to plan the most expensive wedding of the last century?!”

“Oh give it a rest, Bridezilla,” June snorted, collecting the contract from the desk and flicking thoughtlessly through its copious pages. “Your fiancé is the most sought after mechanic on Coruscant, and you’re a doctor— neither of you are hurting for credits. Besides, we both know that ridiculous red gown you’re making me buy for said wedding is going to completely empty my bank accou—”

“It’s not ‘ridiculous’! And red is your colour. You should be grateful I’m not putting your pasty white ass into Alda’s powder blue gown—”

“Hey, leave my pale ass out of this! It’s barely spring! Everyone is still pasty!”

”I’m not.”

“Yeah, well not all of us were lucky enough to be graced with the gift of melanin. Quit rubbing it in befo—”

“We have a meeting,” Challa interjected, smile slipping from his lips as that characteristic impatience reemerged in the wake of their incessant antics. “The civilian relations officer on base is giving us a tour at 1600 today. Meet me in my office at quarter-to and we’ll head over together.”

“I can’t,” June told him, tossing the contract unceremoniously to the side of her desk and stretching her arms above her head. “I have a bilateral clavicular fracture on the books for 1530 and the damn soldier is a red head, so I had to schedule an anesthesiologist to scrub in and monitor sedation.”

“Unfortunate.” With that ebullient elation now stripped of his lips, he stood and offered nothing more than a disappointed grimace before heading for the door. “No matter— I’ll brief you when I return.”

True to his word, Challa had appeared in Operating Room 4 some hours later, the urgency to enlighten her with a detailed recollection of that missed appointment were utterly apparent by the way his surgical loupes fogged amid every panting breath as he settled himself into place across the operating table between them. Though none of his previously-exuded determination had diminished since visiting the premises of their new tertiary home, much of the exuberance he’d previously failed to regulate had been supplanted by the reality of their shrinking timeline; he now spoke of little else outside of lesson planning, curriculum requirements, and examination frequencies with a tense frown top those once beaming lips.

The subsequent week and a half saw June’s nerves reach a peak of which she hadn’t suffered since her own foray into medical school. Assimilating as much of Challa’s OR schedule into her own had initially promised to both further distract her from the weight of her impulsive promise, and help lessen the burden his proliferating task load, but the near-instant inundation of responsibility had quickly rendered her more overstimulated than she could ever remember. Every rotation blurred into the next… and the next… and the next. The sun’s recurrent slumber below the horizon could no longer be relied upon as a gauge to differentiate one day from the next, as catching even a glimmer of that underappreciated daylight was proven impossible due to the gross extension of her schedule. And this menial, yet, pernicious deprivation only intensified during those dreaded 24-hour shifts of which the label of “on-call trauma” saw surgeons near-stripped of their human rights; ten minutes of respite in a dark, solitary call-room became little more than a privilege, particularly so when the clanging trauma alarm, alerting the ward of imminent intakes, refused to settle for hours on end; meals consisting of little more than a hurried handful of whatever food one could pull from that staff-room fridge, ahead of the equally exhausted nurse cornering them with the redundant reminder of a limitless list of patients waiting for attention.

But June was no stranger to deprivation. The nature of her childhood on a secluded planet had long imbued her with the ability to make-do with only what she had; a cup or two of caf could wake her enough to see a procedure to completion in the absence of true rest, a granola bar shoved quickly into her mouth and mashed urgently between molars would suffice in the void of a real meal; kriff, she had a chrono on the desk and a watch on her wrist to remind her the day and time if she ever sought it. What grated on her most intensely as their deadline drew nearer and nearer was Challa’s new-found urge to prattle… his seemingly uncontrollable need for consultation.

Accustomed to the premise of being entirely left to her own devices, her boss’s incessant need to hover at her elbow and chatter in her ear raised June’s ire near-instantly upon seeing that pointed face appear in the surgical gowning room. Despite her intact willingness to support him in this endeavor by whatever means she could, repeated instances of his unwanted company had her near-convinced that nothing short of cutting her own ears off and trapping them into the Cleanser Tube could promise a reprieve from his relentless badgering.

“I mean this with the utmost respect, Challa,” she’d warned one night as her boss had, once again, invited himself to scrub into a surgery she’d shifted out of his schedule and into hers, “But I am down here freezing my tushy off so that you don't need to be. Get out of my OR before I take this Sigmoid tube and jam it up yo—”

“Alright, alright!”

***

The Primeday morning of their first lecture began relatively smoothly. As previously agreed, June met Challa in his office right around the time that the Coruscanti sun’s rays teased their resplendent glow below the horizon… or, “the crack of stupid” as June had aptly named those harrowing hours between caf #1 and caf #2. After countless minutes of watching him pat every pocket in his labcoat several times over whilst reciting his mental list of crucial items to bring, he slung his bag over his shoulder and the duo clambered into Challa’s air speeder for the ride across town.

Despite having lived on Coruscant for nearly a decade, June had never ventured quite as far east as where the GAR’s headquarters sat tucked securely along the perimeter of the Parliamental sector. Its separation from the regality of the senate building and the relentless bustle of the hospital ensured its private nestle saw very little action in terms of residency and foot traffic; most of the industrial buildings gridlocked below that traffic-laden skyway were anchored by tall, smoking chimneys, each emitting endless puffs of dark emissions into the air above. Workers in fluorescent vests, while reduced in scale to nothing more than microscopic amid those colossal buildings, could be seen atop almost every roof, shifting construction vehicles from one place to the next, or collaborating to load heavy pieces of steel onto the cargo bed of an impossibly large transport speeder.

No sooner had the oversized chimneys of their menacing destination come into focus amid the burgeoning daylight, did a venator-class star destroyer descend through the blanket of cloud above them. Though it remained at an altitude of which an uncovered air speeder like theirs could never safely venture, Challa hurried to press the brake, both of their mouths falling open as the sheer majesty of that renowned engineering commandeered their attention. June knotted her arms atop her chest, a growl of frustration escaping her lips as Challa simply refused to accede her perfervid plea to watch that gargantuan vehicle lower itself into the shipyard only blocks away.

The imminent arrival to their destination threw into sharp relief the fragmented nature of that formidable building, and the sheer degree of construction of which that property remained afflicted was nearly as astonishing as the unexpected appearance of that starship. The west quadrant of the expansive compound seemed near-entirely gated off, its interior activities blocked from prying eyes by a series of purple tarps so monstrous in size that any one of them held the potential to swaddle June’s entire apartment several times over. Towering fences nearly two stories high encircled much of the south entrance immediately adjacent, and the indignance still lingering in her chest at Challa’s refusal to let her witness that aeronautical marvel in action was quickly supplanted by the increasingly realistic concern of not being able to find their way into this already high-security establishment.

“Seems as if the construction of this base wasn’t the senate’s top priority…” Challa’s mused.

Security troopers in armour of white and royal purple flanked every access point the duo came across, gloved hands draped in tandem around lethal-looking rifles, both their motives and their eyes hidden behind visors of complete opacity. As time vanished beneath them, and the probability of merely happening across some semblance of a visitor’s entrance diminished with that dwindling darkness, Challa slowed to a stop beside a pair of troopers and near-begged them for directions. After acceding the request of providing their clearance documents, the nearest trooper directed them to the staff speeder lot immediately abutting the construction zone they’d blindly circled thrice whilst attempting to find a way in.

Housing what appeared to be several dozen air speeders, each of which adorned an oversized republic cog emblem on their metallic purple hoods, that staff parking area seemed otherwise void of life, and the pair was able to dash across that gravel lot and scan their way into the door with barely a trio of minutes to spare before class was due to start.

“We can bypass the administration office,” Challa advised her breathlessly, near-jogging through that dark, industrial hall whilst June attempted to keep up. “Eagle advised me everything we’d need is in this envelope.”

His frantic cadence refused to lessen as he reached blindly into the depths of the messenger bag draped atop his shoulder and retrieved a large manila envelope. Unable to tear her eyes away from the foreign novelty of each passing doorway, Challa's elbow landed like a baseball bat against her chest, though he offered nothing but a, “pay attention, we’re short on time!” as she rebuked his negligent gesture.

“Who’s Eagle?” she asked him, rubbing that aching mark below her collarbone before extracting a small wad of flimsi and quickly thumbing through its assorted content.

“The civilian relations officer I met with a couple weeks ago,” Challa mumbled, lips barely meeting in his haste to answer as his brows furrowed in immutable concentration.

Attempting to ignore her frazzled companion currently counting the doorways as they continued down that daunting hall, June turned her attention to the bundle in her hand. The first page brought a glimmer of relief to June’s simmering anxiety; a detailed map of the entire combat base laid bare exactly why they’d struggled to find their way into that fortified compound, and she immediately moved to fold that holy document and stuff it into the pocket of her scrub pants.

“11th door on the right…” Challa continued under his breath. “That one be six— no, seven if you count the elevator, so eight… nine… ten… turn here, June. And then we’re the last room on the left before the stairwell.”

Challa granted himself only a moment to dwell in the liberation of finding the door to their allotted home before quickly tapping his ID card on the control panel and hurtling over the threshold. But the sudden activation of the overhead lights robbed June of what should have been that shared success… that relief. Countless fluorescent bulbs overhead had instantly exposed a significantly larger classroom than she’d anticipated, and the grandiosity of that room was instantly plagued with the harrowing potential of how crowded that space may soon be.

The steps she took in Challa’s path reflected none of his alacrity, her eyes cautiously observing every distant corner of that amphitheater style room as Challa hurried across the small stage at the front and began to unload the contents of his bag onto the teacher’s desk in the corner. A shiver rolled down her spine as her eyes found a small podium at center stage, a perfectly placed recipient of the countless sets of eyes soon to trickle through the doorway and perch themselves into the hundred or so seats lined up behind those curved desks. She swallowed and dropped her gaze to her toes, refusing to give the enormous projector screen on the left even a glance as she crossed that platform in her boss’s wake and tossed her bag to the floor beside his.

“Not quite as spacious as I’d expected,” Challa chided amid another sigh, perching his hands on his hips as his violet eyes peered somewhat reprovingly around the room. “Eagle showed me only the doorway during our tour. I do hope there’s a seat for everyone.”

“A seat for—” June started, mouth falling open at the distressing implications of his complaint. “Challa, how many troopers are enrolled?”

“Didn’t you look at the attendance list?” he asked her with raised brows. “It was in that envelope I just gave you… a hundred clones this round. Maybe more in the next.”

“A hundred? The next?! You never said—”

Their heads spun simultaneously back toward that open door as chorus of raucous chatter erupted down the hall and echoed around the corners of their classroom, and it was barely seconds before the familiar face of a clone soldier appeared on the other side of that threshold, the boyish indifference fueling that zealous laughter vanishing instantly upon meeting the eyes of his new, civilian teachers.

Challa leapt into action, wrenching his hands from his hips and snatching the datapad off the desk top with a renewed sense of urgency. “Can you take attendance at the door while I set up the projector?” he hissed at her, failing to wait for her assent before his slender legs had him trotting to the podium and hurriedly plugging in his tablet.

The throng of broad-shouldered soldiers waiting beyond that threshold, each adorning a particularly itchy-looking blue uniform of which June had never seen the likes of, continued to rapidly enlarge with every uneasy breath that left her lips. With each new unblemished face attempting to peer into that mysterious room over the shoulder of the trooper in front of them, the opportunity to negotiate Challa’s delegation of tasks faded, and June begrudgingly reached to rifle through the myriad of papers she’d recently pulled from that envelope.

“Wait, what did you just say? There’s a girl?”

“A girl and a Twi’lek!”

“A girl?!”

“Yes, you di’kut. Do you need to hear it a third time?”

“Just move over and let me see!”

“Would you chill? You can both see her in four seconds when we get through the do—”

“Coming from someone that can already see her. Just shimmy over a little bit.”

“Here, just take my spot. I prefer blondes anyways.”

“Pfft— how would you know? You’ve never even met a blonde, you prat.”

‘You’re fine,’ she reminded herself amid a slow and controlled exhale, those poorly hushed comments triggering a renewed sense of discomfort and regret for freely consenting to partake in this mission of education. Yet refocusing her attention to locating that attendance list achieved nothing except luring a snort of derision from her nose, as it turned out to be nothing but a harrowingly long and unorganized spreadsheet of CT designation numbers, and as she stood and clamped that neglectful roster to a clipboard, she silently vowed to fill it to totality with every name the students would give her.

“Morning,” she greeted to the first trooper in line, the fleeting glance she’d sent his way upon reaching his position instantly exposing his own mild apprehension, as those olive-skinned fists clenched more securely around the straps of the medkit pack on his back. “Name and CT number?”

“CT-663— wait, name?” He caught himself near-instantly, upper lip lifting on one side in a motion of unbridled confusion, those brown eyes dancing across her features as if the nature of her question had been something particularly ludicrous, like requesting to record the colour of his bed sheets. “You… you want our names?”

“Sure do,” she answered simply, taking a careful step backward as the impatient line of soldiers waiting for their turn to pass through the door surged forward and sent the first in line stumbling over his polished dress boots.

“Get a move-on, Croak!” one of the crowd demanded from some distance behind him, his immediate neighbours erupting in a ringing chorus of arrogant guffaws and hardly-suppressed laughter. “You can chat her up later, this pack is kriffing heavy.”

“Would you stow it, Kix!” Croak barked back over his shoulder, though there was no ignoring the flush imbued in those unmarred cheeks as his eyes returned to her. “Croak… CT-6638.”

He hurried into the room with his head down, instantly replaced by the next tall soldier awaiting their turn to enter. CT-3880 “Stretcher” and CT-4558 “Friendly” were the next two through the door, readjusting the bulky kits on their backs as they offered their elected sobriquet before hurrying after their counterpart. When, finally, CT-6161 “Siren” was the last to find his seat in the second row from the back, June closed the door and dimmed the lights, half-heartedly returning Challa’s thumbs up before slinking along the back of the room to take her seat behind the teacher’s desk.

The subsequent three hours saw June near pleading with the stars to further expedite every looming minute, stomach heaving anew with every glance upward from her datapad that saw a set of brown eyes instantly dart away from her. Though she funnelled every effort into following along with Challa’s lecture, the implications of the whispers somehow persevering through his amplified drone only intensified her desperation to leave that stuffy room.

Eleven o’clock came not a second too soon. Thankfully, one of the tasks June had been assigned when responsibilities were first divvied between that doctoral duo was to keep one eye on the chrono by the door. As the combat base had not been initially designed with traditional schooling in mind, there was no alarm to alert them of the conclusion of their allotted time, and Challa had been quick to advise her that overextending their hold on that group of soldiers had serious repercussions of which he hoped they’d never face. And though a handful of troopers, Kix included, offered her a congenial wave as they hiked the medkits back onto their shoulders and headed for the door, June remained stolid and unmoving behind the shield of that teacher’s desk.

FOREWORD | MASTER | PREV | NEXT | ao3

Tag list: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @starstofillmydream @mooncommlink @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mythical-illustrator @arctrooper69 @smw-on-kamino @sverdgeir

[moonstrider9904]

Stargazing

Pairings: Captain Howzer x Female OC (Athena Allard)

Series summary: Athena has spent a long time on Coruscant working as an administrative for the Republic - too long. Fed up with that lifestyle, Athena returns to her home planet, a forest-type planet far in the Outer Rim, also used by the GAR for peaceful operations, and Athena eventually meets the captain of the battalion in charge. Can she return home to the fullest when it feels like the GAR followed her to the ends of the galaxy?

Series rating: Explicit 18+ for sexual content in many chapters

{main masterlist} {AO3 link} {Wattpad link}

Status: coming soon

Chapter 1 - Flimsiwork (coming soon!)

Chapters with a * contain smut. More chapters TBD.

Other resources

Athena Allard profile (coming soon!)

[rex-meshla]

Clones I wish got more attention in fanfiction...

Captain Howzer | Commander Keeli | Commander Bly | Commander Colt

*btw, you can find my Howzer and Colt fics here x

[toomanyteefs]

SNAPBACK MEMES PART 2!!!!!

(spoilers obviously)

Part 1

[grampsoninspace]

doctor’s orders.

Please, don’t let it be him.

Please no…

Please!

“Good evening,” a warm voice interrupts your silent pleading with whatever force is listening. There’s strain in the usual honeyed tone, which jerks your chin upward with an invisible string. Your panicked thoughts are replaced by your emergency mode, your hands trembling with adrenaline at the pain in the man’s voice.

“What did you do now?” you hiss, assessing the patient visually before you even get close to him, watching blood drip steadily from a wound just shy of his temple.

Captain Howzer smiles up at you with mischief in his brown eyes.

“I got a little too close to the action, Doc,” he shrugs.

“How many times do I have to tell you? The blood belongs inside of your body, Captain. For Maker’s sake, can we go a single week without you risking life and limb for the nearest being?” You pull your gloves on with an angry snap.

“Well… it is my job,” he tells you, trying to sound the slightest bit remorseful and failing miserably.

“I don’t care if it’s your job — it’s going to be a little hard to do it if you’re dead,” you shake your head, starting to remove his armor to assess the rest of him.

“You’re fussing again,” Howzer’s voice drops in octave and volume, much too near your ear.

“Well, that is my job,” you mimic his accent poorly, daring to look back into his eyes as you remove his chest plate.

His full lips are twisted in the faintest smile, and he is watching your every move. You roll your eyes but you can feel yourself blush, choosing instead to focus on removing his pauldrons, gauntlets, and gloves.

“I know... I like it when you fuss over me,” he leans forward and yanks the top of his blacks off with one hand, exposing his skin down to his waist.

You turn back to face him and remind yourself with a deep breath and a mental lashing that you are a fucking professional and you will do your job without incident or…

Or…?

What were you saying?

“Well?” he prompts.

“Hm?” you raise your eyebrows, pretending you were listening.

He leans back with his palms flat on the exam table, his knees farther apart than you remember. “I asked you a question.”

“Which was?” you ask, frowning, silently cursing yourself.

“I asked what your diagnosis was,” he smirks.

“I don’t know yet,” you rub your forehead with the back of your hand. “I need to get your head cleaned up first. Do you feel pain or discomfort anywhere else?”

“No pain…” His smile is teasing. “But I still expect a thorough examination. I could be in shock.”

You give him a look. “Behave yourself, Captain.”

Howzer holds his hands up. “I’m just asking you to do your job, Doc. I wouldn’t expect any less but the closest attention to detail when you’re in charge.”

You swallow, and he won’t look away from your eyes — even as you start to gently clean the wound on his forehead and he sucks in a breath through his teeth, grabbing your wrist roughly and trying to pull your hand away.

Your stomach flips but you give him a stern look.

“Captain. When I said to behave yourself, I clearly meant you need to allow me to do my job.”

“Warn me next time,” he growls, releasing you.

“I did!” You smack his hand down. “I told you I had to clean your head…”

“Oh, that’s what you meant,” he smirks up at you as you continue removing the blood from his skin. You press harder in retaliation and he grabs both of your wrists.

“Stop being belligerent or I’ll let you fuckin’ bleed to death,” you tell him through gritted teeth.

“Which one happens first?” he asks, your wrists still bound in the shackles of his rough hands.

“What—?” you ask, scrunching up your face.

“You said you’d let me fuck and bleed to death,” he repeats, pulling you forward and tugging your hands behind his back so your face is much too close to his.

“Do you think it could be in that order?” he drops his voice down deep and low, his breath warm on your skin.

“You know damn well I did not say that,” you tell him, trying to sound sure of yourself, but your voice shakes.

“Do I?” he asks, searching your face with his dilated eyes.

“Should I check your hearing?” you ask sharply, but his gaze lands on your lips.

“What?” he jokes, and you sigh in his face.

“Captain.”

His eyes flick to yours, and he leans back just enough to let your hips rest in the V his legs have made. “Say my name, and I’ll be good for you.”

“This is very unprofessional behavior,” you frown.

“I’m no snitch,” he whispers. “Besides, is it against protocol for you to use your patient’s name?”

“Of course not,” you sigh again. “But I’m using your title as a sign of respect, just as I would do with anyone else.”

“And I love that about you, but I wanna hear you say my name,” he grips your wrists harder, gives you a little yank, and you arch into him involuntarily.

“Captain Howzer…” you say, trying to keep your tone even and clinical.

“Close,” he smiles but shakes his head. “But no. Just say my name, and I’ll behave.”

You take a deep breath, knowing he’s absolutely full of shit without running a single test to prove it.

“Howzer…” you say in a low voice, your temple pressed against his. He hums low in his throat, and the vibration of it in his chest seems to travel wherever your body is touching his.

You let your lips brush his ear: “Can you please allow me to finish my exam now?”

“Yes ma’am,” he rumbles, letting go of your wrists and planting his hands on the edge of the table again.

His eyes are closed and he keeps very still as you clean his head wound, patching it with bacta and exploring the rest of the lines in his face, running your fingers over the deep scar on his cheek.

“Field medic work,” he smiles, leaning into your touch. “Didn’t have your finesse.”

“Doesn’t change anything,” you blurt out quietly.

His eyes slide open and they are darker than a starless night. “Hm?”

“You know,” you frown, pushing his face to the side to check his neck and shoulders with careful hands.

“What do I know?” he asks, his cheek twitching with how badly he’s trying not to smirk. “What doesn’t the field medic’s work change?”

You sigh roughly in the back of your throat as you move around the table to check his back. “Your… face.”

“Oh, because every clone has the same one?” he asks, a defensive lilt to his teasing.

“No!” you poke him in the shoulder blade, hard.

“Then what?” he twists, to try to make you look at him again, but you push him forward.

“What did you promise me?” you frown. “Be still, Howzer.”

He inhales deeply and sits up with perfectly straight posture. You run your hands down his spine, then press your fingers where you know injured organs would reveal tender spots. He doesn’t flinch, but you don’t know if that’s his training or an actual lack of pain. Nothing seems out of place, but knowing him, he’s probably hiding something.

“Get up,” you pat his shoulder.

He obeys, standing perfectly at attention.

And as you help him remove his lower armor, it’s very apparent that he’s not the only one.

You instantly blush, despite having seen countless human bodies in all different contexts… your whole body flushes with warmth which travels between your legs. You’re removing his knee pads and the feelings you’re having are so improper you feel yourself blushing harder with shame…

“Sorry Doc,” he says quietly. “Natural reaction.”

“To what?” you blurt out, looking up from your kneeling position into his face.

He smirks. “I think we both know you know the answer to that… You’re a doctor. You know how the human body functions in these situations…”

You shake your head. “I’m making sure you’re not going to die of internal injuries, Howzer. I’m not doing anything to try and…cause this.”

“Don’t have to,” he says, low and rough. “You just are.”

Your fingers are still on his thigh, just about to get him to lift his foot to let you remove his boot, when you stop and feel your jaw go slack.

“Please stand up,” he asks. You oblige him, and he sits back up on the exam table, obediently removing his boots for you without breaking eye contact once. You swallow around your dry throat, taking in the sight of him there in nothing but the bottom half of his blacks, which he’s now standing again to remove.

Howzer sits back up on the exam table in just his dark briefs, which — despite their color — are not doing much to hide the topic of your discussion.

Why do I want it in my mouth?

Your eyes are wide when you meet his gaze again, thankful beyond belief that he can’t read your mind. But he smiles softly like he can.

Why is that a thought I’m having right now, when I should be making sure he isn’t in any more pain?

You try to snap out of it, distracting yourself by looking fo contusions or abrasions, any signs of internal injuries or dislocated bones… You put your gloved hand on his thigh to inspect a discoloration there and his body reacts visibly to your touch.

“Howzer…” you whisper, “Should I stop?”

“Please don’t,” he breathes, reaching out to grip the wrist closest to his bare skin.

“I… I need you to stand up and turn around,” you tell him quietly, and he does as he’s told, letting you peruse the backs of his legs and the bottoms of his feet.

When he turns around again, he’s mere inches from your body, his muscles taut and his face hyper-focused on yours.

“I don’t see any other… problems,” you swallow, your voice barely audible. “You’re free to dress and go now.”

“But I don’t want to,” he shrugs, lifting his hands to cradle your face.

He doesn’t kiss you.

He brushes his nose against yours, touches your foreheads together, rubs his cheekbone up and down your cheek.

You can feel the rough texture of the skin on his face and let a soft sound escape your careful throat.

Howzer locks onto that sound like a heat-seeking missile, pressing his hand gently to your throat and repeating the motion he thinks you liked — his cheek pressed to yours.

You whimper lightly, just barely audible, and he loses his careful control to what he wants most.

He kisses you so hard it snaps your head back; you gasp into his mouth and he takes that as an invitation, exploring inside with his tongue. He only breaks the seal your lips have made to let you breathe, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw and down your neck, hungrily making his way down to taste as much of your skin as he can reach.

His hands move from your face and neck to unbutton your uniform coat, pushing it down off your shoulders onto the floor, sliding his long fingers under the shirt you wear beneath.

“I want this off,” he tells you, and you nod your permission, lifting your arms to let him strip you from the waist up.

He removes your bra so quickly and easily it gives you the slightest moment of hesitation and doubt, wondering how many women he’s collected inside the warmth of his body just like this. But his hands are holding your breasts and his tongue is in your mouth again, and you quickly forget your fears. His fingers travel down to the waistband of your pants, and you don’t think you’ve ever taken them off so quickly in your entire lifetime.

“Fuck,” he whispers, looking at you in nothing but your underwear. “You’re perfect.”

“Prove it,” you tease him. “You get naked first.”

He smiles at you with bright eyes, yanking his underwear down and hopping up to lie back on the exam table with his arms behind his head, all too comfortable.

“What’s the verdict, Doc?” he asks, eyes closed, body stretched out for your (scientific) inspection.

You remove your gloves and run your fingertips from his broad shoulders to his hip bones, watching his dick twitch at the attention of your hands.

“I think you’re perfectly…healthy, Captain,” you tell him, your eyes landing on the glorious thickness he’s been hiding in those briefs.

Howzer props himself up on one elbow, turning just enough to ripple more muscles like a statue carved of some ancient god from another galaxy.

“Your turn,” he drawls, gesturing with his finger toward your underwear, and you shake your head.

“Oh now that’s just not fair,” he crows, climbing back down off the exam table and putting his hands on your hips, changing tactics.

“Do you want me to take them off for you?” he gives you a half-smile, his eyes blazing a path from your bare breasts to the fabric between him and his goal.

You nod slowly, pushing your hips just slightly forward as he dips his thumbs in the band around your waist.

“I need to hear you say it,” he says quietly.

“Please take them off,” you try to whisper, but it comes out like a whine. He looks into your eyes expectantly, wiggling his thumbs but not moving his hands any more than that.

“Howzer…” you groan. “Please.”

“That’s better,” he pushes your underwear to the floor and runs his hands back up your legs as you step out. “Isn’t it?”

He kisses you again, softer this time but no less hungry, pulling you back with him onto the exam table. He wraps his arms around you until you’re flush on top of him, nipping at your lips and running his hands all over your body, seeking friction by pressing his hips up into yours…

“Would you like to ride me, sweetheart?” he rasps, his erection pressed against your hip, his heart pounding in his chest against yours. “Because I’d like nothing more than to see you get on top and use me however you want.”

You know your face must look like you’re in pain, the need for him so strong it feels like your heart could stop. You move your knees apart and brace yourself, letting him help you to a more upright position, crawling back until you’re hovering right above him.

You look into his eyes as you guide him to your entrance, inhaling shakily as you feel the tip slide past your resistance, shoving your knees farther apart and dropping slowly to take him deeper. His eyes practically roll back in his head the farther down you go, groaning low in his throat when he’s fully sheathed inside of you.

The two of you stay very still for a long moment, just breathing while you both adjust. When you start to move on him, he looks up at you heavy-lidded and reaches up to grope your breasts, moaning a bit as you sink your fingernails into his shoulders trying to find a rhythm you both like. You roll your hips and grip him good as you do, filthy curses escaping his swollen lips with every thrust.

Howzer lifts his knees slightly to support you, gripping your hips tight as you ride him hard, forgetting every reason you shouldn’t be doing this as you lose yourself to the feeling of him inside of you as his hands explore your ass.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to fuck you like this?” he asks roughly, one hand gripping your ass, the other running up your back to grab a fistful of your hair. You shake your head, unable to form cohesive thoughts as you move on him faster, your need for him only increasing the harder you fuck him.

He sits up suddenly, spreading his legs and bending his knees, wrapping his arms around your lower back and staring right in your eyes as he fucks you right back.

You run your hands through his hair, rubbing the fuzz where his head is shaved and crying out as he hits the perfect spot while holding you this close.

“Since day one,” he rasps. “I’ve wanted you like this since I first met you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about taking you right here, just like this…”

He grunts as you clench around him, wetter than ever and panting his name, blissfully close to him making you cum in his lap right on your fucking exam table.

“Fuck me, Howzer,” you beg him, all sense of propriety lost in the lustful haze clouding your brain and flooding your body with heat. “Please just fuck me.”

“No, baby,” he denies you. “I want this to last.”

“But I’m so close,” you whine, pushing him down on his back and riding him harder.

He moves his hand from your hip to press his fingertips to your clit, not bothering to move them with how quickly your hips are rocking, and your head rolls loosely on your neck as your back arches. You bite your lip to keep from screaming as he drags the orgasm right out of you with his lazy fingers and his ridiculously perfect cock.

“Howzer, I can’t, I’m gonna…” you whine, and he pulls himself up again, locking eyes with you as he feels you hit your threshold, a strangled moan slipping out of you as he keeps you close while you cum.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes as you start to slow your movements to a near-stop, “Are we done already?”

“Sit up,” you tell him, climbing off of him and the table, kneeling and watching him swing his legs over the side.

“Am I already due for another exam—” he chokes on his teasing remark as you take his leaking dick into the tight wetness of your mouth, rolling your tongue underneath him and hollowing your cheeks.

“Fucking Maker,” Howzer groans, his hands instantly tangling in your hair, hips bucking toward your face. “You keep that up and I’m not going to last much longer either.”

Your only reply is to bob your head, taking him deeper toward your throat with each motion, using your hands to grip what can’t fit inside your mouth.

“Oh sweet fuck,” he growls, turning into an absolute mess as you stare up into his eyes while you suck him off. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and he’s trying so hard to let you do what you want, but you can feel him throbbing and you know he’s ready to lose it.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know where you want me to cum, but you’d better decide fast,” he rasps, his eyes squeezing shut.

You keep him in your mouth, but pull back just enough to swirl your tongue around his already-sensitive tip. He groans and shoves his dick deeper in your mouth, yanking your head back by the hair as he loses control. He cums down your throat with a series of grunts and moans your name when he’s finally finished. You swallow every drop, content to lick him lazily until he groans and tugs on your hair to make you stop, guiding your face back up to his.

“You’re mine now, I hope you know,” he growls in your ear, his scarred cheek pressed to yours as he does.

You nod in agreement, feeling his fingers slip between your legs again as he kisses you gently at first…

But you make sure to call him “Captain” when he makes you cum the second time, with nothing but his tongue.

[mistatsunrise]

Shards of Loyalty

Amidst the shadows of betrayal and loyalty, one rebel medic must navigate fractured bonds in the heart of the Empire's darkness.

Fandom: Star Wars, The Bad Batch

Pairing: Wolffe x Reader

Content: Angst as the reader briefly reunites with Wolffe on Teth

Warnings: Spoilers for TBB S3ep06+07

Word Count: 2,978

A/N: I watched the episode, cried, then spent all my time writing this. Also, I couldn't help but have Gregor simp for the reader in this one. Art in divider is by lornaka.

Sitting around the grey flexsteel table, laughter danced around you, as soft giggles spilled from your lips. Your eyes closed briefly as your cheeks rose, a toothy grin wide across your face in a way that made each corner hurt. Across from you was the other source of joyful sounds, in his worn, white plastoid commando armour. His features were spread into a similar grin, crow's feet crinkled about his chestnut brown eyes that glinted in the artificial light of the ship’s interior, and the worn lines upon his tan skin stretched about his smile. A small, stray strand on his dark, slicked-back hair had fallen out of place, which he brushed back into place with a quick swipe of his gloved hand.

As you calmed your laughs, you shifted your hand to take hold of your cup of caf that sat on the table in front of you, the earthy smell of it curling in your nose as you inhaled. Before taking a sip of it, you tilted your head towards the clone opposite you as he rubbed the side of his face, trying to calm his laughter that was greater than yours.

“As soon as we land, I’m going to go get Nemec to confirm that, Gregor,” you teased him softly, to which the clone burst into another bout of laughter.

“You don’t trust me?” Gregor cooed as his laughs subsided again, pointing an accusatory finger at you. It wasn’t serious though, the lop-sided smirk on his face making it evident.

You rolled your eyes softly, placing your hand around the warm cup and lifting it to take a sip. The caf inside tasted too dry and was bitter on your tongue. Yet, you focused on Gregor, paying the poor taste of the caf little mind. “That mission was wild, I need to hear Nemec’s account. I believe you… but, maker, I need to hear more.”

Gregor chuckled softly at that, raising his cup of caf to his lips as you spoke. Yet, you noticed his dark chestnut hues shift from looking at you, moving to looking at the stairs towards the cockpit. The heavy sound of metal prosthetic legs, slightly muted by boots, traveled down to the table. In the doorway, Echo emerged, his pallid features holding a sense of alarm. He cut to the chase, his caramel eyes settling upon both you and Gregor as he spoke.

“Rex commed. Imperials have discovered the base at the spire. They need extracting, ASAP. We’re about five parsecs away.”

You flicked your eyes back to Gregor, whose dark eyes had now hardened with solemnity. There was an unspoken understanding between you three. Your voice vocalized before you even registered it, holding an almost emotionless tone to it.

“Affirmative.”

You pushed yourself from your chair as Gregor simultaneously stood. You all knew what needed to be done, no orders were needed. That’s how this little group of rebels worked, efficiently like a well-oiled droid; not like the Separatist clankers, but like the whirring of a reliable R-series astromech.

Gregor shifted past you on your right, raising a hand to place gently on your shoulder. His digits gave a gentle, but brief squeeze before departing, a small gesture of reassurance. It was all you needed to push yourself forward, to walk down the familiar corridors of the ship towards the medbay.

Once in the dark room, surrounded by dim blue hues and softly blinking lights of green, red, white, and blue, you didn’t need to turn on the main light to navigate about; you knew this place like the back of your hand. You had transitioned from a medcenter medic to a field medic for the clone rebels, and this place was now as close to a home as you could probably get. You missed your life before, at the medcenter, but here, in this dim room, it was easy to put away the memories, the good and the bad, and be enveloped in the blanket of shadows and low light.

As you sought for your medical bag, fingers grazing against the embroidered section of the fabric, a memory surfaced.

“It’s a gift, for helping with… well, everything.”

Wolffe’s voice echoed in your mind as if he was there. He’d stood before you, a small bundle in his outstretched hand. It was wrapped rather poorly, the edges of the paper coming unfolded as it sat there, as if the commander either hadn’t bothered to find an adhesive, or he simply couldn’t find one. It seemed too awkward for him, in a way, and that was coming from the person who’d been there for… well, everything. At least from the moment he’d arrived, fresh red scar and painfully burnt eye from a lightsaber wound. There had certainly been some awkward moments in his recovery, but somehow, it was not as awkward as this moment. Perhaps, because for once, Wolffe was the one giving, and neither of you was used to it. You’d taken the gift, fingers pulling at the paper to unveil an embroidered patch in the middle, the symbol of the Wolfpack in the middle. “I want you to be an honorary member of the Wolfpack,” Wolffe had explained, still rather awkwardly. At the time, you didn’t know why, but when you went home, to sew the patch to your medpack bag, you’d found his comm details written in the paper wrapping too. That moment felt like a lifetime ago. All memories of Wolffe did. You had been so close. So close, that you’d almost admitted to him that you loved him. But that never came to pass. The world as you knew it shattered, and you had to rebuild. The medbay you currently knelt in was a testament to that.

A sigh, heavy and warped with longing, passed from your lips, falling into the air of the dark room. You had to focus; Rex, Nemec, Fireball, and Howzer were relying on you for the extraction, and you needed to be ready in case anyone was harmed… which was inevitable. Hopefully, all injuries would be minor. Pushing the past where it belonged, in the past and away from your conscious thought, you grabbed the medpack, pulling the straps over your shoulders. No time to dawdle. You stood straight, pack weighing on your shoulders, and you navigated the hallways the way you had just walked, back to the mess room, and then further, up the stairs to the cockpit.

At the very front was Echo, facing ahead as the blue streaks of light shot by like endless blaster bolts. A few seats back sat Gregor, leaning forward with arms crossed over his knees. Both sat in silence; apprehension hung in the air, the deep breath before plunging into conflict, something both clones were used to. You certainly weren’t, yet you were not one to let the unease overwhelm you. Taking a few steps forward, you plant yourself in the leather of the chair opposite Gregor, your voice cutting through the silence.

“How long until we get there?”

Echo tilted his head back slightly, the caramel hues of his irises glinting in the light of hyperspace, coming in from the viewports. “Another couple of minutes. Rex and the boys will need to hold on until then.”

Gregor’s voice quickly cut in after Echo finished his sentence, drawing your attention to him. He’d swiveled his chair to face you, having grabbed something from the small side sill at the edge of the cockpit. “Here, take this blaster,” Gregor extended his hand out, holding a DC-17 hand blaster to you. “Not sure if we’ll have to fight. Be safe than sorry.” His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, momentarily going higher pitch before lowering to his usual pitch. After the voice cracks, a small burst of nervous laughter escaped the clone. It was not long ago that you and Gregor shared humorous laughter, and now all that joy had dissipated. You leaned forward, outstretching your arm to take the blaster from Gregor’s hand. Your fingers curled around the weapon and softly brushed Gregor’s hand, warm still through the gloves. As you pulled the blaster back to rest on your lap, Gregor offered you a small, yet warm smile, sincerity glinting in his eyes, wordlessly telling you not to worry.

At the console, Echo moved to pull the ship out of hyperspace. The streaking lights of passing stars shortened, congealing into pin-prick dots of light. Outside the transparisteel before you, the looming, dark shape of Teth emerged. As you got closer, you spied a bright white light at the location, and Echo deftly moved to send an alert to Rex that you were inbound. Gregor stood, leaning over one of the chairs closer to the console, and so you joined him, to get a better look at the scene. You saw a line of Imperial soldiers - you couldn’t quite make out their armor from here. Huddled before them, alert yet holding fire was Rex and the others… A glance over them showed you easily that some were missing - who you didn’t know. Blasted Imperials, you always lost good clones to them. What surprised you was that they didn’t try anything against the ship.

You pushed yourself to stand from your chair, and Gregor nodded to you, standing up straight himself. Echo swung the ship around for easy access to Rex and the others, and quickly you and Gregor sprinted down the halls towards the door. You gripped the blaster tight in your hand. If it came to blows, you were ready to take down a few of the Empire’s men in exchange for the missing troopers. With a swoosh, the door lowered, spilling white light from your ship against the bright spotlights of the Imperial ship. Before you stood the shadowy figures of both your men and the Imperials. It took you a moment for your eyes to adjust upon those who stood there. You looked to your troopers first - only Rex and Howzer remained, the rest were the Bad Batch, with their child and pet. Nemec… Fireball… Both of them were gone.

Anger surged through you, and you raised your gaze to glare at the leader of the Imperial troopers, intent on giving him the most venomous stare you could muster. Yet, as the details of the man were revealed to you, a crack suddenly shattered your heart in half. The blaster in your hand fell slack as you just stared… The one behind this, who’d allowed the deaths of Nemec, Fireball, and the others, was none other than the man you loved. Wolffe.

Beside him, the clone commando eased forward slightly, yet Wolffe raised his arm to tell the trooper, his voice quiet yet rumbling in a commanding tone, “Stand down.” You just about heard it, although his actions spoke louder than his words at that moment. He was going to let you all go, despite likely being ordered to take down your group. Before you, Rex nodded his head with respect for the commander. They were brothers, and loyal to each other even if they fought on opposite sides. That loyalty gave you hope, sparking up inside your chest where the ruins of your heart now lay cracked, perhaps to mend and bond that wound taken to it.

The Bad Batch, followed by Howzer, moved quickly back up to the ship, and Rex himself turned his back to Wolffe. With them, everything had been said and done, but you… You didn’t quite understand. Wolffe was disobeying the Empire at this moment, but he appeared to still be staying with them. You stepped forward down the ramp, brushing past the lanky figure of Crosshair, onto the rocky ground below. Wolffe’s gaze shifted from the turning figure of Rex towards where you stepped, pushing past those retreating in an almost defiant manner. Your eyes met, and the firm expression of the Commander shifted. His eyes widened in surprise, his lips parting softly; his left, natural eye with its caramel hues seemed vulnerable at that moment. Standing opposed to his brothers was different from standing opposed to the person he’d loved. Looking at him, you saw that too awkward stance again, echoing the past when he first truly opened up to you. There was hope, yet this was not a moment, or even such a thing, to be easily navigated. Not with the troopers at Wolffe’s back, and the Empire too. Not with your ship, your group of rebels about to depart. It wasn’t even as easy as giving commlink details on a crumpled piece of paper.

Rex’s hand met your shoulder as he stopped by you. It was hard to break away from Wolffe’s gaze, but you did. The look on Rex’s face told you everything you needed to know. That pair of amber eyes showed understanding, but an urgency, that nothing could be done now, and it was time to move on. You nodded your head slightly, your gaze meeting Wolffe’s, which had shifted to a more guarded look. There was still a hint of uncertainty in his singular natural eye, but his cybernetic one seemed dull and void. All you could do was offer the commander a nod, not unlike the one that had been shared with Rex, but this one told him that you’d be back, and that you’d both be able to reunite someday. Rex’s hand slipped from your shoulder, and with that, you too turned around. The captain allowed you to slip ahead of him so that he could secure safety as you finished boarding.

The steps onto the ship were hard, but you knew that this was not the last time you would see Wolffe. You did not dare look back, for if you did, you feared you’d lose your composure. Yet, thankfully, as you stepped back onto the firm flooring of the ship, you were surrounded by the clones that had supported you during this new reign of the Empire; Rex at your back, Gregor at your side, and Howzer at the front. The ramp raised and the door swooshed shut, leaving you standing there. The Bad Batch lingered around you too, and in that moment, you wished for them to be gone, to leave you with the ones you trusted, but you knew Echo would scold you for that, as they were his squad too. The conflict was evident on your face, it must be, because the pet of the Bad Batch snuffled its nose and came up to you, sniffing at you and rubbing against your legs in a friendly way. The child smiled at you, “Batcher’s just saying hi, don’t worry.” She seemed to have mistaken your expression for a reaction to the animal. It eased your mind a little, and you gave the kid a smile in response.

Rex shifted, stepping around you, and he headed over to the doorway that led to the corridor through the ship, “Come on, let’s settle down and… well… that was a lot. We all need some rest.” The largest clone in the Bad Batch, Wrecker, heartily agreed, followed by the child, then Hunter and the slinking Crosshair. There was no use in lingering here yourself, so you made your way down the corridor after them. In that walk, you realized that you felt as though part of you was missing, like there was a hole in your heart. It seemed that when it cracked when you saw Wolffe with the Empire, a part of it fell and was now left with him. You really would have to go back for it.

Once the ship was traveling at hyperspeed once more, and the Bad Batch was settled down in the cockpit with Echo, you found yourself sitting around that same table you’d been sitting at with Gregor before this all occurred. This time, you sat right next to Gregor, instead of opposite him, and Howzer sat in the chair you had occupied. Rex was standing to the side, stirring some sweetener into his cup of caf. Surrounded by your little mismatched squad, you finally felt able to breathe and to speak. Letting out a sigh, you voiced that which you’d been dying to say since you saw the commander. “I can’t believe Wolffe sided with the Empire.” Gregor shifted slightly, wordlessly putting a hand on your shoulder. These few clones were the ones that knew about your connection to Wolffe, so you felt safe to speak of it here.

Rex turned his head slightly, looking at you with his amber gaze, holding sincerity within it. “Wolffe doesn’t seem to know everything the Empire’s done. He’s likely still under the influence of the chip. But, like with all of us, he did show signs of resistance.”

Howzer added to Rex’s comment, shoving a thumb in the direction of the cockpit, “If Crosshair can be redeemed, then Commander Wolffe can too. That clone showed that he truly had changed today… and I still almost find it hard to believe, even though I saw it with my own eyes. If that can be done, then getting Wolffe to see sense would be like a sandstorm on Geonosis - inevitable.”

The missing clones from your gathering came to mind though, and you frowned, “But… Fireball… Nemec… Wolffe didn’t-”

“Actually,” Rex cut you off, “They were firing at us with stun rounds. There was one of those shadow troopers after us… That was who got Fireball and Nemec. Wolffe’s men appeared to be ordered to take us down with stun rounds.”

You exhaled softly. Wolffe was still loyal to his brothers, even those who fought against him, that was clear. There was no reason to lose hope, even under the dark rule of the Empire. It gave you purpose too; to keep fighting until Wolffe was finally by your side once more.

Thanks for reading!

[freesia-writes]

C-can I pick Howzer for #1, mmmaybe? 👉👈

ANY EXCUSE TO WRITE FOR HOWZER, my love! :D This follower celebration was SO FUN because the variety of prompts and people I have waiting to be written about are just... *chef's kiss*. This one was super fun. It was one of those times where the writing just kind of falls into place as you go along! Hope it's a fun one. <3

#1 - You hear [clone] tell the waitress that they are nervous for their blind date, but no one shows up. So you sit down to act like the date.

Howzer x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.5k Content Warnings: Kissin and drinkin ;)

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

He caught your eye the moment he walked in. He was immediately recognizable as a clone, but he just had a little extra *somethin* that immediately had your attention. Whether it was the tousled undercut he sported or the curving scars across his cheek and chin, you were thoroughly enjoying the view from your perch at the far end of the bar counter. It was always fun to see clones free of their armor, enjoying their scarce free time.

You’d had to stay late after your shift at the restaurant, covering a baby shower that stretched for hours through the day and into the afternoon, and now the dinner rush was already starting. You were free to leave, of course, but an extra dirty martini and some of the mistaken food orders were too good to pass up. Plus, the bartender was your best friend, so when she had a break between customers, there was always good conversation to be had. 

“Did you see that test tube specimen walk in just now? Right up your alley…” she asked, waggling her eyebrows at you while she shook a steel canister. 

“It’s not ALL clones, Dee…” you said in mock defensiveness. Okay, so you had a type. And there happened to be millions of them. But they weren’t all the same… not that it was worth getting into it with her again. “But yeah,” you admitted, peering over your shoulder again, watching him sit and gently take the menu from his server, “He’s got a sweet vibe.”

“You’ve watched him for fifteen seconds and you already think you can tell his vibe?” Dee challenged, pouring the drink. Without waiting for an answer, she bustled off to deliver it, leaving you to wait for his server to come back to the station next to your seat. As soon as he approached, you were speaking. 

“So what’s the deal with table 44 over there?” you asked, earning an immediate snarky grin from Barnes, who was quite the tall drink of water himself, but he’d made it quickly known that he wasn’t interested in women. 

“Ohh, you noticed, huh?” Barnes laughed, tapping on the register screen to enter a drink order, which you leaned over to peer at, curious what he might like. “Yeah, he’s a treat. All cute and nervous, too. He’s on a blind date.”

“Ahh, damn,” you said, leaning back to your food. “Well let’s see who he got set up with.”

* * * 

You lost track of time, nursing your martini and accepting an extra appetizer that had been ordered and then changed. Dee had been regaling you with a tale from the last party she’d been to, although it was delivered in bits and pieces as she went about her job. It wasn’t until Barnes gave you a tap on the shoulder that you remembered to look for the clone’s hot date. Surprisingly, however, the chair opposite him was still empty, and he was leaning his chin into one hand, elbow on the table, the other hand idly twirling the straw in his drink. He looked so smart in his dark grey uniform, and you noted the way it fit snugly around his chest and arms, tucked neatly in to a belt around his narrow waist.

“Get this,” Barnes said conspiratorially as he tapped on the register again, “He just asked for the check, for just his drink. I think he got stood up. Should I quit and go join him?” he paused, as though he were genuinely asking you, then chuckled. “Ehh, I’m not into the military type. Also, it’s getting busier -- you should get out of here before you get wrangled into serving some tables.”

“Good point,” you said, not really thinking about what he said because you were so surprised and distracted at the fact that Mr. Handsome over there had been stood up. What kind of idiot… Suddenly, an idea popped into your head, as the rest of Barnes’ words finally processed, and you decided to act on it before your rational brain (and cowardly second-guessing) kicked in. “Wait, Barnes, don’t give him the check…” you said, putting a hand on his arm as the receipt printed in front of him. “I’m gonna do it.”

His genuine laugh of delight was infectious, and further fueled your slightly bubbly mood. “Well you’d better come up with a good excuse for making him wait so long… And make it worth his time,” he said, giving you a suggestive wink that earned him a smack on the shoulder. You stuffed your apron into the cabinet below the server stand and rushed to the refresher to see what could be done. The smell of a full day’s work in a restaurant was heavy on your clothes and hair, and the barely-remaining makeup was sparse. Grateful for the little basket of hygiene items kept under the sink, you pulled your hair down, tousling it with your fingers after spraying some refreshing powder through it. You got some paper towels wet and wiped your armpits, laughing at the thought of the clone seeing you now. There was nothing to be done about your outfit -- black button-up shirt and black pants -- but at least you could untuck the shirt now and roll up the sleeves. You made one last stop by the bar, making two rushed requests of Dee. 

“Hey -- real quick -- I need that gold necklace from the lost and found drawer, and can you make a dirty martini and another of whatever he had?” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, shaking her head fondly as she fetched the necklace that had been left a few weeks ago. “I mean, what the heck. Sounds like fun, and probably nicer for him than going home sad.” Armed with two drinks and as much courage as you could muster, you headed for the table, running through all the possibilities in your mind. 

“Hi! Blind date, right?” you asked, wanting to be careful not to lie. His brown eyes lifted to you, expression unreadable. He’d been patiently waiting, but was he the stiff sort who would be indignant at being made to wait? Or was he a pushover so desperate for attention that he’d put up with anything? It remained to be seen.

“Yeah,” he said in that smooth clone voice you’d heard so many times. “Howzer,” he said, standing to greet you. He awkwardly offered a hand, realizing you had a drink in each of yours, and gave a breathy chuckle of relief as you quickly set the glasses on the table and took his hand, giving it a gentle shake. You froze, unsure of whether to use your name, or if he knew the name of the person he was expecting… 

“And you’re Xena, right? Here, please, sit?” he continued, standing behind your chair and smiling in such a kind way that the guilt settled heavily on your shoulders. He’d been made to wait an awfully long time, and yet here he was, offering a kind and graceful introduction…And it was also way too much work to try to figure out how to continue the deception as further details would be questioned.

“Erm, no…” you admitted, once he’d cordially seated you and taken his place across the table. His furrowed brow and crooked smile made your heart skip a beat, and you blundered on, “I’m sorry… I work here, well, not right now, but I was hanging out, and I heard you were waiting for someone, and I saw it had been a long time, and I was… well, yeah, I was totally creeping on you from over there… And I just didn’t want you left here hanging cause you’re just… Well you seem really nice… And honestly, you’re really cute… Ohhhh man. This is not a good start,” you laughed nervously, burying your face in your hands. What HAD you been thinking?

Howzer put two and two together and leaned back, running a hand over his tousled hair. You grimaced, hoping it wouldn’t all fall to pieces, and gently pushed the drink toward him once you were willing to show your face again, despite its bright red color. “Here… I brought the same thing you ordered, and… you can just enjoy it, if you want… Sorry, I don’t know what I was aiming for here,” you fumbled, starting to rise to your feet.

“No, wait -- it’s alright,” he offered, raising a hand to accompany his words. “I guess Pivot didn’t paint me in the best light to whoever I was supposed to meet here,” he chuckled dryly. “But it was kind of you to take pity on me… I think? Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving, so what do you say to some dinner?”

Relief cascaded down at the invitation, and your shoulders dropped a few inches with the release of tension. You smiled, letting out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, and nodded. 

“You said you work here?” he continued, opening the menu as if he hadn’t spent the last thirty minutes reading it about eight times over. “What’s the good stuff? Oh, and I suppose I should ask your name too.”

You filled him in, on both points, and had just began sharing about how you got this job when Barnes interrupted you by sliding right up to the table with an air that absolutely demanded attention. “Welllll hellooo again. I see your date showed up?” he said, mock innocence painted all over his face. Howzer gave you a smirk with a raised eyebrow, and you blushed bright red again, chuckling anxiously once again. 

“I told him, Barnes,” you said, holding your hands up in surrender. “I’m not cut out for this sort of thing.”

“And yet you’re still here,” Barnes pointed out, pursing his lips at you before sending Howzer a rather flirty glance. “I mean, I don’t blame you. But you’re not skimping on my tip if you’re gonna make me serve you,” he said, turning back to you. His charisma lightened the mood even further, and you assured him that he would not be slighted in any way. After some discussion about the dishes and a few suggestions, both you and Howzer had the food ordered and were left to stare at each other once again. You were trying to figure out what kind of date this was meant to be, what type he may be looking for (or what type he was himself). But instead of trying to make yourself into something you weren’t, you decided to just be authentic and see where it went. You didn’t really have much to lose, anyway. 

“So. Howzer,” you said, “How’d you get the name?” 

He leaned forward again, stirring his drink again and appearing to be much more relaxed, and began sharing stories from his life so far. It was decidedly different than yours, especially with the fact that he aged twice as fast. You tried not to think about the actual number of years he’d been alive, as that would make you a total pervert by regular human age standards. He told tales of his brothers, their personalities and quirks, and the adventures that his military life had taken him on so far. He shared his thoughts about the world, musing about ideas for the future -- if or when things ever changed. The minutes melted away, punctuated only by Barnes appearing occasionally to refill drinks, bring plates, or clear them away. 

You’d always had a soft spot for the clones, but you loved seeing them open up. The unique complexity of each individual was always a delight, and Howzer seemed to have more depth than most. He was simultaneously ambitious yet reserved, steady yet bold. You were finding yourself more and more enthralled, and in a bit of disbelief at your luck. Somehow you’d chatted away the entire dinner rush, and the restaurant was now growing quiet, filled with only a few lingering guests.

The conversation took a bit of a flirty turn, and you found yourself reaching across the table in a fit of laughter, clapping your hand on top of his. He smiled, still chuckling, and turned his hand over to gently take yours, sending another spark through your body. His gaze darkened a little, taking on a suggestive edge that suddenly made you ready to take him home right then and there. His thumb traced softly across your knuckles, and his eyes dropped to your hands on the table. 

“Well, things didn’t turn out so badly tonight after all, did they…” Howzer mused. His smooth voice and the thrill of the last couple of hours of conversation and connection had you feeling as though you were living a dream. You smiled, giving his hand a little squeeze, and shook your head. 

“Want to get out of here?” you asked, perhaps with more of a seductive tone than you’d intended.

“Oh, ahh, sure… But… well, I mean…” he stuttered, sheepish and hesitant all of a sudden, and you wondered if you’d crossed a line somehow. 

“I just meant for a walk, or glow pops, or something to change the scene,” you offered brightly, and though he tried to hide it, he looked visibly relieved. 

“Sure -- yes -- sorry,” he continued, running a hand through his hair again. “Look, this has been super fun, and I’m so glad you took the initiative to sit down. I’m just… I’m not much of a one-night-stand kind of guy. I know it’s lame, or whatever, but… I guess I just take a while to warm up that way… The guys make fun of me for it all the time.” You felt your heart swell in your chest at his vulnerability. You definitely hadn’t been expecting that, and somehow it made you crave him even more. Respectfully, of course. 

“Don’t apologize!” you insisted, leaning forward and picking your hand up from his to place it on his bicep, emphasizing your words with a smile. “I’ve really enjoyed this. And would like to continue to enjoy it.” 

“I mean, I’m not a total prude,” he said, laughing self-consciously, still with that glint in his eyes that hit you right in the soul. 

“I don’t know,” you said playfully, being careful to keep it lighthearted, “We’ll have to see about that.” You bit your lip, hoping it wasn’t too much of a jab, but he smirked, primly setting his napkin on the table and rising to his feet, extending a hand to you.

“Well let’s start with a walk.”

After fighting over the bill for a few minutes, since you “weren’t the one he asked on a date” but he “had indeed taken you on a date” but “it was where you worked” but “it still needed to be paid” but “you wanted to be fair”… You let him pay with the insistence that you’d be getting the next one, which gave you a little thrill at the thought that there would be a next one. The coat closet was in the middle of a long, narrow hallway that branched away from the host stand at the main entrance, and the hallway included a few other doors that led to the refreshers as well as the kitchen. Howzer leaned in, scanning the hangers for his coat, and suddenly you heard a loud voice as the restaurant door slammed closed behind someone.

“Hello! I need to be seated immediately. Oh, it’s been a ROTTEN evening. The stupid taxi driver got lost twice, and the train was held up by some idiot old lady, and now I’m incredibly late to meet someone here!” a sharp female voice announced, catching the attention of everyone within hearing range. The realization hit you like a gallon of ice water dumped over your head, and as Howzer leaned out of the closet door to peer at the disturbance, you moved without thinking, pushing him back into the coat closet with so much force that both of you lost your balance and tumbled in, kept on your feet (barely) only by the row of jackets hanging up along the back wall. 

Howzer’s arms went out to the sides, hitting the wall with an ungainly thump, and you fell into him, landing against his chest in the most fortuitous way, hands splayed across his shoulders to try to break your fall. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, and heard him chuckle quietly once the initial surprise had passed. 

“I wasn’t aware I had this effect on women,” he said in a low voice, and you held a finger to your lips with urgency, tilting your head toward the loud voice still ringing outside. 

“What do you MEAN, he left?!” she said shrilly, and you could hear Barnes smoothing things over. “You can’t hold a table longer than two hours? That’s just ridiculous.” You sent up a silent prayer of thanks for his quick thinking and willingness to cover for you. You slowly pushed yourself to your feet, freeing Howzer from beneath you, though you were quite loath to do so, and watched him slowly stand straight as well. His eyebrows raised at what he was hearing, and he looked down at you in amusement.

“I may have dodged a bullet tonight,” he whispered, and you stifled a giggle. 

“Fine, well at least tell me where the refresher is, and I’ll be on my way!” the woman demanded, and the quick click-clack of her heels coming down the hall sent you both into a panic again. There was nowhere to hide except behind all the coats, and you both immediately dove into the row of fabrics, pushing them out in front of you and flattening yourselves against the wall, side by side. Now you were trying really hard not to laugh, at the utter ridiculousness of this turn of events, and you clapped a hand over your mouth to avoid making a sound. 

“You know she doesn’t even know what I look like, right? We’ve never met,” Howzer breathed in your ear, and you gave him a little push. 

“There weren’t any other clones in the restaurant tonight, were there?” you whispered right back, and he tilted his head in concession. 

“Good point.”

The sound of the refresher door closing was a welcome one, and you pushed the line of jackets in front of you apart, taking a deep breath of the fresh air that was a nice change from the stuffiness of your hiding place. You were getting ready to head out when you felt Howzer pull your arm, and you turned back toward him questioningly.

“We don’t want to risk it. Better wait til she leaves,” he said, shrugging as though he had no choice in the matter. But the soft croon of his voice and that little shimmer of a reflection of the dim closet light in his eye took away absolutely any reason you may have to argue, and you leaned back into him, facing him now, as he rested against the wall. Jackets were stuffed all around you, draped over your back and undoubtedly sticking out a bit, but his breath caught in his throat as you drew near and the sound made you forget about everything else. 

“I don’t want to push you past your comfort zone,” you said softly, feeling the tingles growing as he ran his hands up the outsides of your arms, and you brought your hands up to rest on his broad chest. 

“I appreciate that,” he breathed, leaning in a little closer, “But I told you I wasn’t a complete prude.” He was so close now that you could smell him, an intoxicating mix of aftershave, soap, traces of scents from dinner, and the slightest hint of musk underneath it all. His proximity was electrifying, and you lifted your face to take in the fondness in his eyes and the gentleness in his expression. You were hopelessly lost at this point. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, and your cheeks curved into a smile at his gentlemanly request. 

“Yes please,” you whispered back, and as soon as the last syllable had left your lips, his mouth was against them, arms wrapping you in a firm yet tender embrace. As if the closet weren’t stuffy enough, the sudden heat of the moment, combined with the two of you pressed together, had you completely flushed with warmth. His kiss was unfathomably sweet, and when he pulled away with a soft smack of the lips, he rested his forehead against yours with a small smile on his face. You lifted a hand to his scarred cheek, reveling in the moment. 

The silence was broken by the refresher door opening again, and an aggressive tapping of heels echoed down the hallway as the narrowly-avoided blind date from hell clattered out the front door. You pulled back a little to better meet Howzer’s eyes, though you could have stayed there forever. 

“Now how about that walk?”

[dragonrider9905]

Celebrating You!

Hi guys! I’ve been on here for a bit now and while I never had a follower goal, I do appreciate you guys who have decided to follow me! So now I’d like to celebrate you!

In light of TBB ending, and how much we'll be missing the boys, I thought this was as good as a time as ever!

Here’s the idea! I’m opening a prompt request for the dates of April 5th through May 5th, 2024 (you may start submitting now though!) and choose from the prompts below! You can choose one from each category, or just one category. It’s ok if it is just the prompt or the prompt and a brief idea. If you have a fun idea or prompt not listed, please share!

Rules: I only write SFW. I typically write for clones; I reserve the right to refuse requests which make me uncomfortable for whatever reason. I have had a few requests in the past that really unsettled me for various reasons. Or if I don't know the character. I'd hate to try to write something then upset the person because it is so ooc that it's cringy. (But if I said I would write your request and haven't yet, I just honestly haven't gotten to it :D I like to do well on the stories you guys entrust to me so it does take me a bit :D)

This is supposed to be fun so lets keep it fun!

You may submit as many requests as you'd like! The more the merrier!

Characters: Star Wars Clone Wars or The Bad Batch (as long as I know them. I know a lot of clones but alas, not all.)

Story genre:

Classic SW! (Pick an era if they exist in more than one if you wish)

AU of choice (modern, western, pirate, mermaid, time traveling, etc if I’m unfamiliar with the genre, I may have to change it or request more details)

Dialogue Prompts:

“Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

“If we’re going to do this we’ll need—“ “A plan?” “No! Code names! Cool ones!”

“I don’t need to be anything to you. I just want my life to mean more to you than my death.”

“You are playing a dangerous game without even a glimpse of the rule book.”

“I’ve never been terrified of death, til he set his sights on you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” “Yeah, you’re not allowed to ask that in this situation.”

“Where’s your shoe?” “The giant mud puddle in the road demanded a sacrifice.”

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist.” “Then how else do I describe the feeling I got when I first saw you?” “You…love me?” “Apparently not, according to you.”

“A fate worse than death….” “They’re burnt cupcakes.”

“White paint has more color than your face.”

“Why is there a dragon in my fridge?” “It was hot.”

“Touch **, and you’re dead.”

“I am the law.”

“Do that again and I’ll throw you out the window. Wait, what are you doing?” “Checking how high the drop is; seeing if it’s worth it.”

“I’d rather have you hate me than loose you entirely.”

“I have a mission but don’t know what it is.” “Well that sounds incredibly counterproductive.”

“I would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulties in your life.” “You are the worst at this comforting thing.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this but I’m quite petite.” “Really? I had no idea in our twelve years of friendship that you’re shorter than I am.”

“But what is power?” “Loyalty.”

“Don’t you sign to me in that tone.”

“I’m with him/her for better or worse.” “It’ll probably be worse.” “I knew that the day I met him/her.”

"I'm sorry I tried to kill you." "It's fine, but next time you should try harder."

"C'mon, like I need an excuse to spend time with you."

"You're not as bad as everyone says you are."

"The only one who gets to kill you is me."

“blood loss”? well it’s not lost. I know exactly where it went. right over there.”

“How the mighty have fallen!” “It’s a dropped chocolate bar, stop being dramatic.”

“Shit, we’re gonna die” “Now I don’t want to hear that negative attitude, look on the bright side!” “Yay! We’re gonna die! Woo!”

“How do you do it?” “How do I do what?” “Pretend you are ok.” “I’m not pretending.” “Yes, you are. Every single day and it breaks my heart.”

“Hey, so I know things are pretty f**** shitty right now but I need you to breathe for me.” “Wha-wh-wh-” “You’re having a panic attack. It’s gonna be ok. Just breathe with me.”

“Please, my arms—I can’t wipe my tears, don’t let them see!”

"Smiles are contagious!" "Don't worry, I'm vaccinated."

"I don't want to get involved, it's too risky." "Please do it for me, you're the only one I can turn to." "It's not worth it. You really want to lose everything? 'cause I don't."

"Do you ever think of anyone other than yourself?" "No"---a long pause---"actually yes, at Christmas time"

"There is a reason I go through that door first, It's to make sure everyone else walks back out"

“I can’t leave you here!” “You can and you will.”

"OH! Are you alright? Are you alright?" "Apart from being trapped under here, and maybe suffering from broken bones and embarrassment beyond what I am capable of handling. . . I'm dandy, why do you ask?"

Oh no, are you alright? You're covered in blood!" "Yes, it's yours, Now will you please let me take you to the hospital?"

"What did love ever do anything for anyone anyway?"

"What the hell were you even thinking?!" "You told me not to think!"

"With love comes loss, that's part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it was all worth it. There's no greater gift than love."

“'Temporary stitches' all stitches are temporary if you have a pair of scissors and aren’t a coward" "What do you....that better not mean what I think you mean......" "Am I just talking about sewing stitches or sutures too? Maaayyybe?" "NO! Absolutely not!"

"I made the calculations, and boy am I bad at math."

"It'll be over soon, I promise."

"Working together again, just like old times." "Well, not just like old times."

"I am many things but not your enemy."

Action Prompts:

Forehead kisses

Palm/hand kisses

Dramatic rain scene

Touching foreheads

Jealousy

Dancing

Last stand

Christmas/Life Day celebration

mistletoe

Accidental hand touch

First date

First kiss

Spending time with the family

Bad day cheering up scheme

Pranks

Going to a pet shop

Going to the movies

Always go after the girl

soft spoken person has loud, unnerving scream.

Lullabies

Nightmares

injury

amnesia

pretend/mistaken to be married/in a relationship

cooking

[beskarthief]

Chapter 9 of the Star Wars fic "Order 65". The rest can be found here.

19 BBY, Coruscant, Coruscant Underworld

 Rex wished he had something more to offer the new recruits than a couple bunks and a few crates of supplies. Not that they seemed to mind. He wasn’t sure how long they’d spent in those cells, but based on the ravenous way they’d devoured the food Echo offered them it seemed like it had been a while. 

 They’d debriefed them as soon as they got back, of course. But each clone had a different idea of how long it had been. Trapped underground with no natural light and only Imps for company had a way of making the days drag into weeks. Nobody could give them a good idea of how long it had actually been, or where they’d been headed, or anything, really. Rex had tried not to let his frustration show, but he was pretty sure they’d all been able to tell.

 Some part of him had thought - foolishly, he had to admit - that finding one group would lead them to the others. But if it was that easy, then Drixx would have been able to trace this group to the main facility and they’d be headed there right now. Rex shook his head. He didn’t want to wait anymore. His brothers couldn’t afford them waiting anymore.

 A rattle outside made Rex’s gaze swing from the datapad before him to the door, and he was on his feet in a moment, hands already drifting to where he’d left his blasters; always within easy reach. Stalking forward on silent feet, he drew first one, then the other, before slipping out the side exit to loop around the front.

 He came out from around the corner with both blasters leveled at the door, gaze scanning the platform with trained precision. The beady eyes of some form of vermin met his for a split second. He saw the realization of danger flash through them before it scampered off and around a corner. Rex lowered his blasters with a sigh. He was jumping at rats now.

 But even as he was getting ready to go back inside the familiar hum of a ship sounded from above him, the first bits of disturbed air whipping across the platform and forcing him to plant his feet firmly on the ground to avoid being blown backwards. Glancing up, he watched as the stolen shuttle descended. He smiled even as his grip tightened on the blasters already in his hands. You couldn’t be too careful these days.

 The shuttle set down before him on the landing platform and he waited until the ramp had come down and Gregor had stepped off it, signaling that it was just him, before returning his blasters to their holsters.

 “You’re twitchy.” his brother said with a laugh.

 “Can’t be too careful.”

 “True, true.”

 Gregor followed him around the side after locking up the shuttle. You couldn’t be too careful with those, either. They’d already lost one. Perks of being banished to the underworld, Rex supposed.

 “Sooo.” Gregor began as soon as they were safely inside. “I checked out the location you gave me. Monastery is empty, looks like it has been for a while. No Imps, far as I could tell. And I really checked. A little dusty, but at least it’s got sunlight and enough space for anybody we pickup along the way.”

 Rex nodded. “Good. I’ll get a message to the Senator, let her know we’ll be relocating. We’ll need to stockpile supplies. It’ll be harder to get without her help.”

 “Don’t think you’re gonna have to get a message to her.” Gregor said, pointing ahead of them to where they could now both see the familiar cloaked form, currently chatting with Echo.

 She turned as they approached, her smile widening. But Rex could tell instantly that there was something on her mind.

 “We weren’t expecting you, Senator. Is everything alright?”

 “Yes.” Riyo said, but her tone was thoughtful; measured. “I went to 79’s today. Met with Drixx. He had an update for you, I’ve put all the potential locations on this chip.” 

 She offered it to him, gloved hand outstretched. Rex took it carefully. Something so small and fragile, yet holding so much vital information. 

 “This could save a lot of lives. Thank you, Senator.”

 “Don’t thank me, Captain. It’s the least I can do. The least any of us in the senate can do for you. We should have spoken up at the start of this war, now all we can do is triage.” She paused, concern flicking across her face before she continued. “But I must admit there is another reason I came here today. I was recently assigned a Coruscant Guard detail. I already had reason to believe they were not merely for my protection, but Drixx said something that confirmed my suspicions. Do you know of a Commander Fox, Captain?”

 A flash of light, the familiar smell of charred flesh. But familiar from battlefields, not here. Not here where they were supposed to be safe. The sound of a blaster clattering to the floor, delayed as his mind caught up with his senses. General Skywalker’s voice, echoing and yet barely audible. The red painted armor of the Coruscant Guard, blaster’s still raised. And him, standing there, smoke trailing from the end of his blaster- 

 “Captain?” Chuchi’s voice was concerned, and as the present swam back into focus he could see Gregor and Echo looking at him, worried. After a moment Echo looked away, paced off across the room. 

 “Yes, Senator. I know him.” 

[eclec-tech]

🎵 Clone x Reader Song Fic Exchange 🎶

For @ladysongmaster (This was my first time ever writing for Howzer!) 🤞🏼

@cloneficgiftexchange Pairing: Howzer x Reader Words: 3.7K+

"I knew she always worked late on the third Taungsday of the month and told her I would bring by dinner on the next one so we would each have some company while we suffered through our reports. That was going to be the night I finally asked if she wanted to spend some time with me outside our official duties. But I guess the Force had other ideas,” he trailed off sadly. “What happened?” Howzer’s wistful smile disappeared entirely. “That was the night I tried to rally my men to stop hurting the people of Ryloth and got us all arrested.”

[starqueensthings]

Summary: An immediate continuation from the last chapter, as the two were only separated for ease of reading. June’s dreaded task of taking center stage in front of those soldiers has come, and she’s as anxious as she is sunburnt, but the reappearance of one of our TCW faves helps appease some of that trepidation.

Rating/WC: all chapters are rated 16+ for subject matter unless otherwise stated. | 6k ish words.

WARNINGS: social anxiety, mentions of cardiac arrest. Please heed the author's notes below.

A/N: I literally never thought these words would leave my lips, but this chapter contains an astronomical amount of dialogue. It takes us through the entirety of June’s first lecture, and the content she’s tasked with trying to elucidate to the Medic Cadets. It’s lengthy, and full of author-crafted/non-canon medic lore, as I think the only canon tools I included were the MedKit, and MedScanner; the rest were pulled from the chaotic depths of my brain. Also– kind reminder that I am not a doctor. All medical terminology and descriptions in this chapter were based upon information the Google machine was able to provide me. That’s it I think, ok BUHBYE, DRIVER!

PLEASE ENSURE YOU’VE READ THE FOREWORD LINKED BELOW FOR AN IN-DEPTH DESCRIPTION OF WHAT DEGREE OF CONTENT YOU CAN EXPECT THROUGHOUT THIS STORY BEFORE PROCEEDING.

FOREWORD | MASTER | PREV | NEXT | AO3

Tugging distractedly at the hem of her top as she trod cautiously across that stage, June instantly abhorred both the heat and the blinding nature of that dazzling spotlight illuminating only the area tasked with housing her for the next several hours. And by the time she was near enough that austere stand to rest her datapad in place, the remainder of her senses had begun to near-suffocate her; footsteps thundering atop the floor with every step, ears unable to ignore the irksome hum from the projector hung directly over top her position, the metallic scent of electronic grade aluminum as she tipped the microphone closer to her lips. Yet, more oppressive than that imminent sensory overload was the incumbrance of that weighty silence… a hundred sets of eyes peering up at her neath glimmers of both mild confusion and patient expectation as she attempted to force her trembling hands into situating herself.

The heavy lid of that borrowed MedKit thundered like a projectile shot from an old cannon as her clammy fingers lost their grip on that slippery duraplas and sent it crashing to the table top, the odious echo pulling a cringe to her features.

When she’d needlessly fiddled with all that she could, and the promised safety of procrastination had whittled itself down to nothing but obvious intentional delay, she stepped back behind that microphone and cleared her throat.

“Um, hello,” she uttered, gaze lurching toward the first row of students atop a sense of feigned confidence, though the reciprocating gaze of those curious brown eyes had her own actively seeking respite from her datapad again. “Sorry I’m kinda late… worth the wait though… maybe.”

An unheralded chorus of whispers and repressed amusement broke out across those rows of seats, and the fracture of that oppressive silence had her gaze flicking upward again.

Immediately apparent was exactly why Challa had always requested she keep a close eye on the back rows from her typical perch behind the teacher’s desk, as the near-tyrannical light beaming down at center stage rendered anyone standing behind that podium utterly blind to everything beyond about ten feet.

“For those I haven’t properly met yet, I’m Dr. June Kiore, but just call me June,” she spoke, quivering finger reaching to thoughtlessly nudge the bridge of her glasses further up her nose. “I’m a lead attending general surgeon at GRMF, and I’m lucky enough to have the opportunity to meet with tons of combat medics every day. Not only does the lowest level of the medical facility house the widest array of inventory for restocking starship medbays, but medics are often the ones tasked with transporting their wounded brothers to the nearest medical center, as only they can recount the the degree of injuries to the doctors assuming their care.”

A trooper in the first row on the farthest left shifted in his seat only enough to steal her attention, the gleaming silver button on the cuff of that scratchy looking jacket knocking against the desk in front of him as he readjusted his perch atop that rigid duraplas chair, though by the time June’s gaze had darted sideways to identify the accidental interruption, the trooper had resumed his silent, taciturn perch.

“Um… we’re going to go through your kits today,” she continued, quickly prodding a finger against the screen of that datapad to ensure her presentation notes were still actively displaying her plan of attack. “But um, before we actually dive into the equipment, I– well, I told Challa I wanted to waste a few minutes of your time to remind you of the magnitude of your role. I’m sure this is nothing you haven’t already heard, and— honestly, it may not mean much coming from a ‘civvie’, but if this resonates with even one person, then I think it’s worth saying.

“You are soldiers, yes. You, of course, will be fighting. You will be involved in tactical advances. You will have pistols on your hips, and you will be expected to kill with them. But… you are also medics. You will also comfort. You will also save. Only inches from those blasters is a MedKit equipped to recuperate as many lives as you take, if not more.

“Though it’s not just the pack that’s going to weigh on your shoulders– you will each bear the responsibility of balance. You will each have to find the equipoise of saving life and taking it, whether it be an enemy, friend, droid, humanoid, sentient, animal, brother. The burdensome task of deciding when to end life, and when to save it… and when to end it when it can not be saved… is entirely your weight to carry. And it’s that awareness, that demanded composure, that’ll constantly try to crumble your resolve.

“But you’ll find it. You will achieve that awareness and that balance. You will find those abilities and that strength within yourself through experience and camaraderie, and with these MedTools in your hands, you are going to save countless lives. Your friend’s lives, your brother’s lives, your superior’s lives, civilian lives… and you will become the backbone of your new regiment.”

The succeeding pause was laden with a poignancy more deafening than the obnoxious thud of that MedKit lid reverberating around those four walls, for it seemed no one was capable of moving amidst that paralyzing truth; the very air shared by that century of soldiers now wholly saturated in a morbidity of which that stuffy room hadn’t previously housed. Prevarication utterly refused for the sake of candor and authenticity by someone who, rightfully, should not have harnessed the ability to understand them on that level; to both acknowledge and elucidate the harrowing reality that every soldier in that room struggled to reconcile when the stillness of night caught up with them.

She trailed the tip of her tongue across her lips in preparation to launch into the bulk of her lesson, gaze quickly digesting the way those two hundred brown eyes had softened neath her words; that darkened gleam of ego and hunger diminishing to something resembling receptiveness… concentration…

“Like I said, I’m sure this is nothing you haven’t heard befo–”

“Not put like that,” a voice called from somewhere in the back left corner, though his face remained enshadowed by his distance from the stage, there was no denying the scoff following his sentiments wholly lacked the contempt of which such a huff typically wore, instead escaping his lips atop something near astonishment.

“Oh… well,” June continued somewhat lamely, unable to entirely decipher if his comment had been fuelled by an unbridled resentment or sudden stroke of appreciation. “Just remember– you’re important to the war effort, but you’re also important as a person.”

Offering Challa only a fleeting glance to ensure he hadn’t been patiently withholding some sort of objection, she scooped the MedScanner from its swaddle in the kit to her left and held it aloft. “Let’s move on to the equipment…” she told the room at large. “If you haven’t opened your MedKit yet, please do.”

From what she could see within the confines of that oppressive pillar of light, most of them had, though a subtle rustle from the seats nearest the door meant at least a smattering of them failed to accede Challa’s earlier instruction. Offering the negligent group a moment to catch up with the rest, her wandering gaze fell upon a trio of soldiers in the second row on her left side; what appeared to be an irrepressible curiosity had seen them each extract the Scanners from their kits like she had, long brown fingers tipping and twisting the equipment while slightly-narrowed, scrutinizing eyes bathed in the appearance of that high valued tool.

“Much like the brains in your heads,” June started, repressing a smile triggered by that unexpected dose of targeted interest. “The MedScanners in your Kits are vital to all of the other components. This Scanner and your judgement will work in tandem to dictate your treatment protocols. Active battle will ensure you have only seconds to make treatment decisions… but with the help of this tool, seconds are all you’ll need, and time will see this Scanner become an extension of your own hand. While downtime between advances will have your brothers cleaning their blasters and changing their socks, you will be referencing data and recharging power.” She paused for only long enough to cast another furtive glance toward the device still laying atop that podium, ensuring the information now spilling from her lips, now-void of the inhibition from mere minutes ago, remained on schedule with what she’d meticulously planned.

“There is endless information accessible in just this one little device. In class, we’ll go through the most crucial settings and the menus that will allot you the most information with the least effort, but I encourage you to independently learn as much about this particular tool as you can… find the limits of what you can achieve with it.

“So, um… if everyone wants to power theirs on for a moment and just kinda fiddle around, the little button on the left of the screen powers it on and off. Go ahead and start to familiarize yourself with things. Play around with the buttons, spin the dial and watch the screen toggle between menu options, get used to the trigger on the back because that’s what initiates the actual infrared beam…”

June watched those hidden back rows flicker into life like a patchwork quilt as several dozen newly activated scanner screens illuminated the curious expressions of their previously hidden holders. After carefully placing her demonstration tool back into the kit, she witnessed the first fragments of something-near excitement erupt across those crowded seats, as several soldiers turned to point that swanky new tool in the face of their nearest brother, pained gasps echoing around the room as those deep brown eyes were assaulted by the beam aimed at corneas without intent, and another small smile threatened to peel across her lips.

“I’m either doing this wrong, or you’re not alive,” one of the troopers in the second row on the far left laughed to his neighbour, giving his scanner a little shake as if physically agitating the equipment might promise him the result he sought.

“You can keep your scanners on, but put them down for now please. We’re gonna move on,” she called as she reached to collect the next tool from its perch, and the immediate groans of protest reviling her request only intensified the smirk atop those lips. “In your Kits, to the immediate right of the Scanner, are three reserve power cells. Your Scanner’s primary power at full charge and being used constantly, will last for approximately two full rotations.” Hoping those soldiers would identify the vital importance of this information from the severity of her tone, she spoke slowly and deliberately. “Do not have three dead power cells in your Kit. If I ever catch you with a dead Scanner and no reserve power, I will personally sever your toes and sew them to your eyebrows.” In stark contrast to that preceding intensity, a loud refrain of laughter echoed around the room, including from Challa whom June had momentarily forgotten was there. She continued, “The little black cord tucked beneath the power cells is your charging scomp adapter. Whenever you are near a power source, it is absolutely crucial that you plug in and recharge power.

“Any questions? No? Okay, next…” Stowing the back up power cells back into their home, she extracted the subject of her next demonstration. “To the immediate left of your Scanner, you will find what’s called a Universal Serum Injector, or USI. If your Scanner is the brain of your kit, this is the heart. I use these injectors regularly at the hospital, and my life would be infinitely tougher without them because they are truly revolutionary tools for urgent patient care. They pump lifesaving and life-preserving serums through the veins of your patients without having to prep a bolus and insert an IV line. They allot you the power to hydrate your patient, eradicate foreign bacteria and infection, diminish inflammatory responses, reprogram cell activity on a biochemical level, block pain— they can save you, and kill you. USI’s and the serums that go in them will become your bread and butter.” Whilst that crucial prelection spilled from her lips, she reached blindly into the kit and removed four small crystal vials. “Your combat kits are equipped with four types of serum. From the big pouch underneath the lid, everyone please grab one of each. There should be a vial with a blue cap, a green, an orange, and a red.”

Whilst the room erupted in the hiss of activity, June took the opportunity to seek Challa’s gaze from across the stage, though upon immediately meeting that glowing set of violet, she wished she hadn’t. The pride and joy exuding from behind those gleaming globes forced her focus downward and her stomach up into her throat, as that blazing look and encouraging nod had instantly confirmed a notion of which she’d already begun to suspect: their gambled attempt at finding the correct way to engage with his group had found success. Challa’s continued optimism, validated. Her role behind this podium, secured.

Stretching the remnants of the lingering tension from her neck, June redirected her gaze back upward to find a hundred sets of hands clasped around a collection of four multicoloured vials, and an equi-number of alert, brown eyes peering up at her expectantly.

“We’ll go through each serum in significantly more detail at a later date, so just follow along with me for now,” she assured the eager few that had also collected data pads from their bags, balancing them precariously on their knees amid hopes of taking notes and palming the equipment simultaneously. “Now if you look closely, you’ll see that each vial has a needle preloaded neath that coloured cap, and this is done for a multitude of reasons. First, for efficiency; the coloured cap ensures you’re not robbed of valuable time, as pausing to read a label and identify a medication will only usurp those seconds you need to treat the patient in front of you and, in the thralls of battle, time is a luxury. Secondly, for sanitary reasons as maintaining injection sterility whilst in the backwater sectors of Maker-knows-where is a feat near-impossible.

“It’s tough to tell unless you’re habitually using them, but the needles under those caps are different gauges— like a blaster, the gauge refers to the diameter of the opening. The larger the number, the smaller the opening. The orange and red-capped vials are equipped with 14-gauge needles for rapid infusion and should be administered intra-muscularly— most often at the base of the neck or the outer thigh. The green and blue-capped vials are equipped with 18-gauge needles for slightly slower absorption, and are administered subcutaneously. But the size of the needle is nowhere near as important as what flows through it.

“So let’s start with the blue: these are Hydration Vials, and do not underestimate how pivotal they are in acute patient care or how many lives you will save with them. Hydration station will save the nation!” A sudden refrain of that familiar husky laughter rang around the darkness, though June offered it only an apologetic smile before pressing on. “I’m serious! As soldiers, you may never fully know what type of terrain or environment you’ll be facing. If supplies dwindle to the point where nutrients are sparse or unattainable, this serum will be the difference between life and death. It replenishes water, electrolytes, and calories quickly. We’ll cover the basic signs and symptoms of dehydration and malnourishment another day, so let’s move on.

“The orange-capped vials contain what’s called a Nociceptor Blocking Agent or an NBA. In layman’s terms, this is a pain cutting injection. You will use these more than any other and, again, do not underestimate the power of this serum. Because of how the chemical compound prohibits communication between synapses, it is not to be administered flippantly. Chronic overuse can cause motor complications, and chronic idiot use will cause injury.”

Shifting the cargo nestled in her palm from the orange vial to the green, she held it aloft. “Green vials,” she continued, “Contain a general antifungal and antibiotic serum. In your myriad of travels to the galaxy’s farthest corners, you will run into plants and bugs and bites and other weird shit that you could have never dreamed of. A Hema scan will tell you what type and degree of foreign cells have infiltrated the bloodstream, and this serum is used to eradicate any signs of infection quickly.

“Lastly, the red vial contains a cardiac stabilizer. More specifically, a medication called Amiodarone— a highly concentrated synthetic designed to help stabilize the electrical activity in one’s heart when those natural impulses become erratic and uncontrollable. Cardiac arrest will present itself suddenly and with a large array of symptoms. Using your MedScanner and knowing what symptoms to look for are your only chance at combating those sudden episodes, and this serum will grant you those valuable seconds needed to ascertain the biological cause of distress, and prep your next tool for use. But before we move onto that, are there any questions about the vials?”

“Can you drink ‘em?”

The idiocy of the question forced her dark brows together, blue eyes scanning the darkness for the issuer of the query.

“Of course you can’t drink them, Dempsey…” another unseen soldier chimed in before her lips had even parted to respond. “What, are you gonna suckle on the needle like a teat?”

“Well, I don't know!” Dempsey defended from his hidden perch somewhere in the center of the room. “Just thought I’d ask— sheesh.”

“No, you can't ingest the serum,” June clarified. “They’re not formulated for absorption through the GI tract. Any other questions?”

When her narrowed eyes failed to find any elevated hands amongst the only rows she could see, she turned her attention to Challa, watching him crane his neck to peer across the remainder of seats. Once he'd approved her advance with a thumbs up, she stuffed the vials back in their pouch and popped the next two tools from their foam casing.

“Okay,” June mumbled, fiddling with the pair of dome shaped probes clasped somewhat awkwardly in her hands amid the effort to hold them securely enough to display their appearance whilst avoiding injury. “These are called Defibrillation Pods, and they’re a bit more complicated. Everyone grab the set in your kit, and flip them over… but be careful. See the four little probes on the bottom of each pod? They’re sharp as hell, and need those little barbs to keep them from shifting while in use because the electromagnetic bolts that issue from one probe to the other are extremely powerful. I’m assuming everyone knows the function of defibrillation?”

The responding, garbled chorus of yes’s and maybe’s did all but imbue her with the confidence she would have liked, so she permitted herself a small digression. “Defibrillation is a deliberate pause in cardiac electrical activity,” she explained. “It’s essentially forcing your heart to reset its rhythm because its previous cadence was too inconsistent to sustain life. If a patient is experiencing a cardiac episode and the chambers in their heart have become desynchronized, these pods wield the power to reset that vital rhythm to a natural biological beat. To use them, you would first run a Cardiology Scan or an ECG, then you’ll jab these in your patient’s chest, one at the 11 o’clock position and the other at 3 o’clock around the heart, and—”

“Hold on a sec… we’re stabbing these little things into someone's chest?” one of the soldiers sitting in the seats nearest the door voiced, question undeniably bathed in a blend of both incredulity and disgust.

“Of course,” June laughed. “It’s either that or they die. Trust me, they’ll forgive you for the scar when they live to fight another day. We’ll go more in depth into ECG’s and shockable rhythms during a future class, but let’s quickly run through a case study so I can better explain how and when the red-capped vial and the defibrillator pods work in conjunction.

“Say you’re urgently summoned from across the battlefield because there’s an unconscious patient in need of urgent care. A General Scan is immediately conveying that the patient has no pulse, diminishing O2 saturation, and a declining body temperature so one can assume this is a fairly recent cardiac episode and thus severe in urgency, as you have only minutes to restore blood flow to the brain before damage is deemed irreversible. So, the first things you’re going to do are: administer the red vial, likely at the base of the neck where armament gaps, and find a nearby trooper to strip that patient of their chest plate. While they’re doing that, you will be toggling to the Cardiology menu on your MedScanner and taking an ECG to ascertain current electrical activity. Within seconds, you’ll have a series of wave patterns at your disposal to which you’ll use to determine if you can attempt to revive the patient with defibrillation. There are several wave patterns typically associated with cardiac arrest, but only two of them are ‘shockable’ or treatable with this tool.

“Your Scanner will complete wave pattern categorization for you, but you want to make sure you’re looking for wave patterns indicative of Ventricular Tachycardia or Ventricular Fibrillation. These are, generally, the only two shockable rhythms. Once you’ve figured out the nature of what you’re dealing with, jab these little probes into their chest in the position I told you, and activate them. The patient will physically lurch— and yes, it will look as if you’re hurting them but, remember, at this point, they have no pulse. If they’ve lacked a pulse for several minutes, they’re considered already dead. You are trying to undead them. Pain is secondary to life, always.

“A full defib cycle takes eight seconds from beginning to end. Once completed, initiate another scan and check the new ECG’s. If there’s no change in the wave pattern, inject a second a red vial and repeat. You can run up to three full cycles, but if, despite your intervention, electrical activity trends toward Asystole, or what’s commonly called a ‘flat-line’, your patient is going to die.”

June paused and watched truth land its heavy blows on the chests of all the troopers visible inside that circle of spotlight; arms crossing, eyes widening, lips pursing, throats bobbing neath poignant swallows that could only convey they hadn’t yet entertained the thought of that perceived failure. Many turned toward their neighbour to share a significant look, others dropping their gazes toward their laps, others simply tossing those probes back into the kits as if the weight of those tools in their hands personally offended them.

“Look… I know it’s grisly,” June continued sombrely. “Take it from someone who has lost more patients on the table than I could ever stomach counting— this is the reality of medicine and of war. This Kit is an extremely sophisticated, top rated, highly sought after set of equipment. If they can’t save your patient, nothing can. Your role at that point is to mark the date and time of death, and move onto the next because there’ll be a next. There will always be a next. Remember the balance that is demanded of you. Remember that composure.”

“Time check, June.”

Her gaze darted toward her wrist at Challa’s request, shocked to see that hardly an hour of class time remained. Where had that time gone? More shockingly, to what distant corner of her mind had that simmering fear retreated? Why was she able to cast her eyes across that century of soldiers without her upper lip flattening in disgust? When had they crossed the threshold between gaping upon her with lascivious intent, to simply offering her their attention void of mal motive or lurid intention? And, in some cases, even mild veneration?

“Thanks, Challa,” she spoke, confident the microphone would carry her voice to the corner in which he sat, slender face still distorted with a pride she’d never quite seen bestowed upon those features. “Any questions on the defib pods? No? Okay, let’s move on to something a little lighter…”

The next thirty minutes saw them blow quickly through the lesser aspects of that kit. Bacta patches and med patches were of little concern, as the soldiers had become largely familiar with them throughout their upbringing on Kamino. They quickly covered the basics of the effervescent iodine solution provided for rapid disinfection of open wounds, as well as comparing the Electro-magnetic stapler and Cauterizing pen both mentioned in their previous lecture only days ago. After ensuring each medic understood how to adhere and activate the portable oxygen mask, June instructed the room at large to break into sets of three and use the remaining class time to practice using their MedScanners on each other.

“One person, pretend to be a patient and describe your symptoms! Someone else be the medic and figure out what tools you would need for treatment, and the third person grabs it from the Kit and describes how to use it!” she called loudly before a deafening roar of a hundred chairs scraping heavily across that hard floor echoed around the room.

As Challa trod the circumference of the room to flick the lights back into life, June took her time ensuring all pieces of that MedKIt had been powered off and returned to their respective homes inside that borrowed pack. Eyes aching from the duress of maintaining that necessary squint, the reintroduction of broad room illumination had a sigh of relief near pouring from her lips.

“June,” Challa mused as he crossed the stage and neared where she was now latching that MedKit closed, and he wasted no time placing his slender hands on her shoulders and giving her a small celebratory shake. “I knew this would work! I knew you would pull this off!”

“Yeah, well don’t hug me yet,” she laughed, shrugging his hands from her stinging skin and wrapping her fingers around the MedKit handle. “I’m waiting for the one in the back to get ballsy and start suckin’ on the blue vial.”

“Hydration station,” Challa recited atop a snort, gently tapping her hand out of the way so he could assume the burden of carrying that heavy pack back to the teacher’s desk. “Where the kriff did you come up with that?”

“What?” she answered atop an apologetic chuckle, following in his wake. “Who doesn’t love a good rhyme from time to time?”

After quickly checking their pagers to ensure neither had missed any urgent communication from the hospital, the doctoral duo separated to traverse the classroom, offering guidance and pointers to trio’s where needed, and listening to ensure conversation had not strayed too far from the lecture content. A silent lap around the room had June pleasantly surprised with how quickly those students were learning to operate their Scanners, as she had witnessed at least a dozen successfully take basic vitals off of their mock patients. (“We definitely don’t have time for that today,” she chuckled to a soldier who had accidentally toggled to the wrong menu and was unknowingly attempting to take an MRI of his brother’s intracranial activity.)

After quietly roaming the back few rows where those troopers seemed to have a handle on the little roleplaying game she’d implemented, June trod slowly down the tiered steps toward the front of the room, where the trooper she’d nearly chuckled at earlier was scanning one of his group mates.

“I know it’s not really what we’re supposed to be doing right now, but you mentioned there are different wave patterns indicative of cardiac arrest,” he probed upon her check-in. “But only two are shockable? What are the others, and are they going to be externally immediately recognisable?”

The complexity of his question took her by complete surprise, lips quickly compressing to conceal the beginnings of an impressed smile, and the emergence of his informed inquiry only reinstated the suspicion that many of these troopers had been actively listening throughout the span of that lesson.

“They’re not,” she advised him, climbing backward to sit upon the desk top. “Not shockable or externally recognizable, I mean. We rely heavily on ECG’s to identify where the malfunction occurred in the heart and what can be done to rectify it. Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Kix.”

“Here, Kix,” she said, collecting his MedScanner from the table beside her and handing it back to him. “Toggle to the Cardiac menu and scan me. I’ll show you what the ECG’s look like and how to read them.”

Leaning backward slightly, she flanked her hips with her hands atop that desk in an effort to remain as still as possible while that infrared beam danced first up and down her chest, then to and fro. And she watched Kix’s dark brown eyes narrow as he funneled his attention into operating that sophisticated tool, fingertip blanching neath how intently he depressed the trigger on the back.

“That’s an awesome question,” she told him, watching his silent determination. “Since your Scanner self-identifies, you don’t necessarily need an in-depth knowledge of the different wave patterns so we’re only going to cover the basics in class, but I’ll try and break it down once you have my results. Tell me when it’s done…”

“Ready,” he advised only seconds later, a held breath escaping his lips as he climbed onto the desk beside her.

“Perfect,” she said, leaning sideways to peer at the screen in his hands. “So obviously I'm not dead, and you can tell because there are waves present in each of those graphs. But see at the bottom where it says ‘NSR: Normal Sinus Rhythm’, and then lists a series of numbers? That’s where your Scanner will tell you what type of cardiac incident you’re dealing with. Not including some smaller subvariations, there are four main rhythms associated with a CA. The two that are not shockable are called Asystole and PEA. Asys is a complete lack of any electrical activity whatsoever, so those numbers will all be zeroes, and there will be either extremely negligible or no waves present depending on if CPR was performed before you arrived. The second is called Pulseless Electrical Activity, and the waves will be nothing short of chaotic, lacking any sort of pattern, void of any kind of rhythmic peaks or depressions. Essentially the heart still has some electrical energy, but not enough to physically make the heart beat.”

“Wizard,” he mumbled under his breath, eyes absolutely drinking in the information the scanner still offered up. “Which do you think I’m likely to run into most often?”

“That’s a tough guess,” June sighed with a small shrug before jumping down from the desk and brushing the dust from her palms onto her pant legs. “A young healthy person with no known or diagnosed arrhythmia’s is not likely to suffer an episode, but CA’s are sometimes triggered by external factors. Significant blood loss, blunt force trauma directly to the chest, severe cases of dehydration, some potent toxins, amongst other pretty rare circumstances. I applaud your desire for knowledge, it’s… refreshing.”

Kix’s ears reddened to the colour of her scrubs neath her seemingly unexpected praise, that flush triggering a chorus of repressed snickers from the two companions that had watched the entire exchange unfold, and June took their amusement as her cue to leave.

The chaos of her morning seemed like a distant memory now, June reflected as she took a seat behind the teacher’s desk and pulled her holopad from the depths of her bag. The arrival of the event she’d been most dreading since its proposal last week had come and gone with hardly any discomfort despite how intensely she deplored her untimely arrival, and though plagued by a complete lack of caffeine, and the stinging ache relentlessly reminding her that the refusal to apply sunblock had resulted in painful consequences, she was in a remarkably good mood. Many of— if not most of— the students had responded to the shift in educational leadership with much more adaptability than expected, several granting her something-near undivided attention as she fought her own anxieties to provide them a tidbit of the information needed for the successful transition from medic cadet to Clone Trooper Medic.

She’d just begun to let her eyes unfocus upon that completed attendance list when a disturbance caught her attention from the front of the room. The classroom door had slid open unexpectedly, and she’d hardly attuned her attention to the intrusion when a figure appeared atop the threshold.

A very gruff looking soldier perched his hands on his hips, scowling lips compressed into what could only be described as a disapproving grimace as his dark eyes scanned the innards of that classroom. Despite the confidence that she’d never met this particular trooper before, there was no ignoring the nature of his elevated status; several shiny medals pinned to his chest, and a posture so straight it seemed unlikely the man had ever come into contact with a pillow, had June leaping instantly to her feet.

“You’re over your time, Ma’am,” he grunted to her as she greeted him in the doorway. “These cadets were due in RRD fifteen minutes ago, and they still need to armour up.”

June had zero clue what ‘RRD’ was, but the overt severity of his reproval made it wholly apparent that he was not impressed.

“Kriff,” she gasped, clapping a palm to her forehead. “That’s absolutely my error. I’ll pack it in right now. I’m so sorry!”

She did not pause and wait for his reaction, instead hurrying away from that threshold and urgently casting her eyes around the room for any sign of those sand coloured Lekku. “Challa!” she called, cupping her hands around her mouth to supersede the din of chatter.

His gaze found her almost instantly, eyebrows raising to query the look of apparent horror atop her features as she lifted her arm and frantically tapped her watch. Quickly mirroring her gesture, Challa’s shoulders lurched upon the realization of their terrible error, slender legs taking him earnestly down the stairs and up onto the stage.

“Pack up boys, we’re running behind!” he instructed into the microphone. “Don’t leave anything behind!”

June trod quickly across the room, helping various soldiers latch their kits closed and stuff them into those white canvas backpacks. “What’s RRD?” she whispered to Kix as she hastily shut the lid on his equipment.

“Rank and Report Duty,” he grumbled back, failing to repress a roll of his dark eyes. “Also known as: Three Hours of Standing in Line and Getting Berated Into Compliance.”

“Sounds like a blast,” June scoffed, scooping his bag from the floor and holding it open so he could lower that heavy plastoid case into its depths.

“Everyone’s favourite,” Kix sighed, exceeding her sarcasm with his own.

Feigning mild offense as she helped him throw those straps over his broad shoulders, June offered him a small gasp. “Pffft, I thought this class was everyone’s favourite.”

“It is now,” he chuckled. “Oh… and it’s called a cuirass.”

“What?”

“Chestplate. It’s called a cuirass. I can help you with the armour pieces if you want.”

A dapper, boyish smile domed his cheeks as he offered her a small nod and made his way down the last two steps. Hands perched on her hips, June watched as one of the other cadets instantly threw an arm around his neck and pulled him into a painful looking headlock, though it lasted hardly a second before Kix tugged his shoulders from that innocent restraint and shoved his brother through the door ahead of him.

FOREWORD | MASTER | PREV | NEXT | AO3

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[moonstrider9904]

Gardens of Yesteryear

This fic is for the Clone Troopers and their Flowers event! @arctrooper69 this goes out to you!

Pairing: Howzer x Female Reader

Synopsis: on a very important day for you and Howzer, you’re unable to find the one thing you need to make the evening flawless. Will that stop you?

Tags/warnings: SFW. No real warnings, just fluff. Established relationship, brief mentions of alcohol.

Word count: 2.6k

Crossposted to AO3

As you bumped into one of the many flower-filled buckets for the third time that visit, you scolded yourself for leaving it to the last minute. There you were, in the fifth flower shop of the morning, and you’d had no luck finding those flowers. The day before, you’d thought your reasons to wait until the actual day were decent. You didn’t want them going bad, you didn’t want the petals crumbling or the stems going stale. You wanted all the best for him, for your special day.

You couldn’t believe it had already been three years.

The memory of your beloved coming into your life prompted you into taking a deep breath in the middle of the flower shop amidst all the people happily buying their bouquets of sunflowers or lilies, all flowers that were easy to find and renowned by everyone. It had been a rainy summer, that one, and it was the summer your life changed when you put it into perspective. The decisions you made, the people you met… you remember your man being the sensation. Everyone was talking about him and you’d heard his name mentioned and repeated days before you even got the chance to meet him, and surely enough, you also fell for Howzer’s charms when you first laid eyes on him. It was hard for you to fathom your luck—the sheer way in which the universe had smiled at you, told you yes, you may have this man to love and to hold.

A smile appeared on your face when the memory of when he’d asked you to be his came into your mind. The clouds had cleared on that day and you felt a warm sunshine on your skin. The breeze that day carried the smell of grass and flowers and the noise of children laughing and families going about. Donning a sundress and a cute little hat with sandals that matched it, you’d met Howzer underneath an oak tree whose green leaves looked radiant in the sunlight, and he’d arrived with a stunning bouquet of blue freesias. The way the blue shade matched the colors of his armor from his days as a soldier didn’t escape you, and that was when he’d asked you if you wanted to make your relationship formal. You’d never been quicker to say yes to anything, and those flowers remained on a vase at the center of your home for longer than any other bouquet had in your entire life.

Your mother’s words came to mind, of that one time she told you, “When someone’s flowers last that long, it means their feelings for you are really strong.”

But your heart also ached at the memory of how beautiful Howzer’s gesture was. Now that you were hitting the three year mark, you wanted to replicate the feeling in him, let him know that you’d also be willing to go over the top for him any time. And while most of your three-year-anniversary date had already been planned out, this part remained a secret.

In theory, since your flower endeavor was a secret, there would be no real consequence to you not going through with it. But you were unwilling to let it slide.

Then, as the florist came back around the counter from the back of the shop, you took a deep breath, feeling your pulse rise as you anticipated all the things she could possibly say to you.

“I have good news and bad news,” the florist said.

“Oh, maker,” your words shook from nerves as you exhaled your tension, but your tone remained kind. “Start with the bad news, please.”

“Well, I have two pieces of bad news,” the florist continued. “I have no blue freesias, and I have no freesia arrangements already made.”

You nodded. “Okay… what about the good news?”

“I have freesias in just about any other color. If you’re willing to work with that, just tell me what other colors you want and I’ll have an arrangement ready for you in thirty minutes tops,” she smiled at you.

Your heart sank, and the florist took notice.

“I don’t mean to make it worse,” the florist said, “but if you’d come around one hour earlier, I think you still would’ve found some blue ones.”

You chuckled, your laughter dipped in slight disappointment. “Yeah… an hour ago I was at a different flower shop, and they told me the same.”

The florist gave you a sympathetic smile. “I can work wonders, you know. Why don’t you let me mix some white, purple, and pink freesias and sprinkle in some golden motifs?”

A thought suddenly perched itself on your mind as you remembered the warm glow of the evening when your relationship with Howzer started. Everything had seemed so golden around you, and after all this time, that was one of the first things that you thought of when the memory came. The next thing you always seemed to think of was how beautiful the teal of Howzer’s armor looked whenever the ambience around him was so warm. The image was vivid in your mind, and your heart raced with joy as you thought of your handsome Howzer, in that perfect lighting, only belonging to you.

“You know what?” You smiled at the florist. “Do you have any yellow and hot pink freesias?”

“You bet,” she replied.

“Okay… do you think you could mix all the colors, but give the warm tones priority? And maybe we could keep the golden motifs.”

The florist nodded at you. “Give me a half hour and I’ll surprise you.”

A half hour sounded wondrous. In that time, you could go to the bakery next door to get some of the last things you needed before your anniversary date.

“You’re a hero,” you told the florist. “I’ll be back!”

*

The sun had started to go down on the sky, and the light it cast on the outside took that beautiful shade of gold you so loved. Despite the flowers not going according to your plan, the bouquet the florist got for you was still gorgeous, and if anything, it complimented Howzer’s signature colors. You had the whole thing planned out, figuring you could trust the kind florist to help you with one last endeavor to give the evening one more level of charm. You never wanted to be predictable when it came to Howzer, especially not when it came to a day as important as that one.

You were approaching the spot Howzer had chosen for your date. He had the tendency to not be predictable when it came to you either, and though it would have been sweet to have your date where it all began, Howzer chose a place that was new to you. At a park in a quieter side of the town, where there was grass, benches, tall trees, and even a fountain, and you felt the romance in the air from the moment you arrived.

You marched yourself across the park, feeling occasional blades of grass brushing against the skin exposed on your sandaled feet, and the gentle wind flowed in harmony with the skirt of your white sundress. You made your way towards the spot of the park Howzer had told you to meet him beforehand, and when you were at a short distance, you spotted him talking with two of his brothers. He saw you coming, as you could tell by the way his gorgeous brown eyes landed briefly on you only for him to gesture hurriedly at his brothers to leave, causing you to giggle softly at him. Howzer was a gentleman, but you loved it whenever your charm brought out his more clumsy side.

As you walked up to him, you took in every detail of Howzer. Though you weren’t at the same oak tree, the warm light of the evening matched the memory so well it might as well have belonged to you and Howzer already. As for your boyfriend, Howzer wore light brown pants and shoes that were a slightly darker shade, almost approaching a milk-chocolate color. His white shirt seemed to be made of a light, breathable fabric, ideal for days with such high temperatures and warm winds blowing, and the white shirt had thin cross-stitch patterns embroidered along the length of his chest in teal thread, his signature color.

A large grin plastered itself on your face as you took those last steps between Howzer and yourself, and your free hand went up to his shoulders as you leaned in and perked yourself up on your toes to greet him with a light kiss on his cheek.

“Hi, love,” you chimed.

“Hi,” Howzer smiled at you, his gaze traveling over your silhouette. “Wow, you are… you are stunning.”

You giggled and gave a little twirl on the spot. “Thanks.”

You then paused as you watched him standing there, his hands hidden behind his back as he smiled a tad nervously at you. You took that moment to take in the rest of the details around you: the red and white blanket placed on the grass, a large plate with grapes, hams, and cheeses, a wooden tray with short legs to safely hold a bottle of rosé wine and two slender cups, and series of warm fairy lights already powered on for them to grow progressively as the sun set. You smiled at the scene and set your basket of bread down on the blanket, your chest swelling with joy as you looked over at Howzer again, ready to tell him how beautiful the set up was.

But Howzer remained with his same uptight posture, hands insistently behind his back.

You giggled again. “Well? Aren’t you gonna kiss me?”

“U-Uh, right,” Howzer stammered, revealing one of his hands from behind his back. “Suppose I could just do this.”

“Mmm yeah, you could,” you chirped as Howzer bent forward and kissed your cheek sweetly. Smiling brightly, you turned your face to face him directly, and Howzer leaned in again to press his lips to yours.

You sighed dreamily, sinking into the familiarity and warmth of his lips, letting your fingertips travel up to brush the skin on the sides of his face. You’d memorized all of him, from the texture of the scar on his cheek to the lines of his face, the way he tasted and how he tilted his head first to the left and then to the right when he locked lips with you. You grinned into the kiss, pressing your lips harder to his before pulling away with a tiny smile.

“Happy anniversary, dear,” you whispered.

“Happy anniversary,” Howzer reciprocated with a serene smile.

“So,” you raised a brow at him. “Wanna tell me what you have back there?”

The clumsiness returned momentarily to Howzer as he stammered on his words. “Oh, r-right. Um…”

Howzer took a deep breath, returning to his regal, captain-like demeanor. He straightened his back and looked at you with confidence and affection, two traits that would have you swooning over him for days.

“I wanted to have a balance today, you know?” Howzer began. “I do want to commemorate this day three years ago under that oak tree when you said yes to me, but it’s been three years, and as much as I hold the past very close, I also want to acknowledge the fact that you and I, well… we have a future. We have a path to move forward in, and… hence the new place. But… well, maybe putting it that way, it’s not such a tragedy.”

You tilted your head, confused by his last sentence.

Howzer chuckled. “To have a piece of the day you and I became a couple, I wanted to get you the same blue freesias I got you back then.”

He slowly revealed what he was hiding behind him, and you stared at the bouquet of bright yellow, red, magenta, and light pink freesia flowers. The bouquet was balanced out with smaller white flowers that resembled chamomile, and it was wrapped in cellophane on the outer layer and thin bright pink paper on the inside, tied together with a neat teal bow. Howzer held the bouquet out to you, smiling charmingly at you, and for a moment, he resembled a prince declaring his love to you for the first time all over again.

You chuckled at him, dazed. “Let me guess. All the flower shops were out of the blue freesia flowers.”

“It’s uncanny how I was unable to find any today. It’s like they plotted to ridicule me,” Howzer agreed, but now he raised a brow at you. “How did you know?”

You giggled, your cheeks flushing with heat. With the best of timings, you spotted the florist walking up behind Howzer, and your gaze regrouped with that of your lover.

“Well, you’re not the only one who remembers vivid blue flowers that day,” you said, slowly walking up to him and kissing his cheek, letting your voice lower into a whisper as you told him, “close your eyes.”

Happily, Howzer obeyed. You skipped past him and went over to the florist, mouthing the words “Thank you” as you took the bouquet from her and took your position in front of Howzer again. You held the bouquet in front of your chest and smiled brightly at Howzer, your eyes sparkling.

“I know about the blue flowers because I wanted to get them for you too,” you said.

Howzer opened his eyes and felt his chest swelling with love at the sight of you holding the bouquet. You’d gotten the flowers in the same colors he had, and the golden motifs didn’t escape him.

“Darling,” Howzer sighed as he took the flowers from you. He chuckled softly, looking you in the eyes. “Well, great minds do think alike.”

“I guess they do,” you beamed.

Howzer set your bouquet down on the blanket next to the one he’d gotten for you. He rested them on your basket of bread and smiled at the way both complement one another, not unlike you did to him. Howzer then took your hands in his and looked you in the eyes, gazing into you with all the tender care he held for you.

“I love you,” he spoke softly.

Your entire chest fluttered, and your eyes glimmered up at Howzer as you blessed him with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

“I love you too,” you said before leaning in and letting him kiss you.

As you both pulled apart from the kiss, the gleam in your eyes turned excited.

“Now, can I please start eating that cheese?” You proposed.

Howzer laughed. “Help yourself. I’ll pour the wine and get the crackers.”

“No wine, no crackers, no bread,” your hungry side got the better of you. “Only cheese.”

Howzer kissed your cheek, pressing himself firmly into you and smiling into your skin with how much he adored you. You then took a seat on the blanket and grabbed a cube of rich, yellow cheese, plopping it into your mouth. As you savored it, you leaned your head back, taking a deep breath as you enjoyed the peace, the breeze, the whole evening. Hearing as Howzer opened the bottle of wine and poured the two cups, you reached for a grape and smiled, knowing you were in the middle of perfection.

Here’s to more years, you thought as Howzer took a seat next to you, handing you your cup of wine.

You clinked your glasses together, and then you leaned your head on his shoulder, smiling as you gazed into the sunset and enjoyed every second of your time with the man who made your days bright and your years sweet as the scent of freesias.

Thanks so much for reading! If you like this fic, please consider reblogging to support me!

Dividers by saradika-graphics

[jedi-princess-kestis]

Plan 24

Summery: Rex and the gang show up to Pabu with Senator Riyo Chuchi to give some supplies and support to the clones who were rescued from Tantiss, as well as a little R&R for themselves. But Tiha, the resident Jedi and the Bad Batch are ready to turn this visit into a war zone. But this isn't your typical battle... Oh no.... This is a water fight.

Characters: Rex, Gregor, Echo, Howzer, Senator Riyo Chuchi, Tiha (my OC), Mox, Deke, Stak, Taps (clone OC), Omega and the Bad Batch.

Word Count: 5.8k (don't look at me like that)

Warnings: maybe a few swear words, but mostly fluff and fun.

Prompts: Water Guns and "It's not what you think". This is for the "Summer of the Bad Batch" prompt challenge week 1! @summer-of-bad-batch

A/N: apparently I have no self control and don't understand the meaning of "short oneshot". I told myself no new OCs, keep it short and sweet and use a story you already have going..... I don't listen 🤣. I blame @kybercrystals94 for hosting this amazing prompt challenge and for being my cheerleader and hyping me us as I wrote this. I hope you enjoy! (Also if anyone would like to find out more about Tiha Wenn, my Jedi OC *she maybe returning😏* please hit me up, I have pictures of her and all kinds of info on her if you are interested!)

Meet the OC

Echo, Rex, Howzer and Gregor were bringing Senator Riyo Chuchi to Pabu to meet with Shep and bring some supplies for the clones that had chosen to stay and leave the fight behind for some much needed R&R. It was also a chance for a little R&R for themselves too. Echo and Gregor landed the ship at the top of the village on the landing pad, letting the ramp slide down as they followed the Senator down the steps they were greeted by Mox, Deke and Taps, a Clone who had been saved from Tantiss.

"Troopers." Rex said with a nod of his head, before glancing around looking for a specific bunch of clones. "Where is Omega and the boys at?" He asked after not finding them anywhere near the landing pad.

"We are here to take the Senator to safety at Shep's house." Mox spoke up as he stepped forward. Riyo glanced at Rex and Echo before looking back at the young clones.

"Safety?" She questioned.

"From what?" Gregor spoke up as well as he glanced around the seemingly quiet island. That's when Taps stepped forward, a bag that had been slung over his shoulder hitting the ground. Different types and sizes of blasters tumbled out of the bag. Howzer picked up one of these blasters and looked it over. After feeling the odd weight of it he glanced up at Taps with a raised eyebrow.

"These blasters have water in them." He deadpanned as he tossed the weapon over to Echo. "What's going on here?" Mox just smiled as he took Riyo's hand and pulled her away from the clones a bit. Just as he was about to speak up, Tiha walked up to the group, hands open in a welcoming gesture. She had been the Jedi the Batch had helped during a mission, and had since then become a member of the group.

"It's so good to see you again Echo." She said with a quick hug and a pat on the back. He smiled as he placed his real hand onto her back, giving her a small squeeze. "Men, it's good to see you all well. You too, Senator."

"Good to see you too, General. So what's going on here? What's with the blasters filled with water?" Echo pointed to the bag on the ground. Tiha gave him a grin that held nothing but mischief, her eyes sparking. She bent down and picked up a blaster and gave it a small shake, letting the sound of the water inside slush around.

"This Gentleman is why the Senator needs to be taken to safety. Which Mox, Deke and I will be making sure of. As for you, Stak and Taps will be setting you up at your base of operations. Plan strategically, Omega doesn't always play fair."

Rex stepped forward and waved a hand at the water guns. "And what exactly are we supposed to do with them?"

Tiha and Riyo both smiled, the Senator catching onto what was going on. "Why Captain, I would think you would know a clear sign of war was." The Senator spoke up.

"She's right. The team with the last man standing is the winner. Wet kit or shirt, you're dead. Have fun!" Tiha said with a wave of her hand as Mox, Deke and herself walked down the stone pathway with Riyo in tow. The Jedi and the Senator walked side by side, chuckling at the still confused looks on their faces.

"How much of a chance do you think they got?" Riyo asked softly as they made their way down the stone stairs that lead to Shep's house. Tiha chuckled and shook her head, casting a glance towards "The Nest" that sat high above Shep's house. That was Crosshair and Omega's favorite place to watch the island below, being able to see everything and everyone from there. A flash of metal caught her eye and she knew at least one of them was already parched up there.

"Honestly, Rex and the boys don't stand a chance."

••••••••

Omega was up in The Nest with Crosshair, watching the world below them. Crosshair used his scope from his firepuncher on his water sniper, watching Rex and his men move about the landing pad, real blasters left in their ship, water guns now strapped to their hips and backs. He gained as they used the landing pad as their base, but only Howzer remained behind, Echo, Rex and Gregor wandered down the stone path into the high parts of the village. Omega watched as well through her own scope, one he had made her, that was strapped to her own snipper like water gun.

"Havoc 1, come in." Omega said into her comm as she leaned back against the wood siding of The Nest.

"Go for Havoc 1."

"The King and his guards are on the move."

Hunter's deep chuckle came across the comm, the code names making him laugh. "What's your plan Mega?"

"Bad Batch, plan 24." Omega said over the group comm, letting Wrecker in on the conversation. He lets out a whoop, before the comms went silent. Crosshair gave her a side smirk, before moving to her place in The Nest. She moved closer to the pole that was attached to the side, grabbing hold before giving him a two finger salute and sliding down the pole to the ground below. Once her feet hit the ground she made her way through the narrow pathway that led to Shep's back porch. Keeping low, snipper strapped to her back and water pistol now in hand, she made her way through the back gate.

"I see the games have begun." The voice made Omega jump out of her skin as she spun around to find the owner of the voice. There, sitting at the long table was Tiha and Riyo, drinks in hand as they watched the young teenager. Placing a hand over her heart she took a deep breath before smiling.

"First off you scared me. And second off yes, the plan has been set." She nodded towards her water gun and then back to Tiha. "Not too late to join the fight, General."

Tiha and Riyo both smiled and shook their heads before Riyo took a sip of her drink. She had changed into a soft pair of pants, a tight fitting shirt and her hair was now pulled into a high ponytail. Tiha was closely matched, only her top was a crop top. Her short green hair pushed back off her face.

"You go have fun Mega." Tiha said with a wave of her hand as the teenager gave a nod and moved back into her stealth approach. Omega moved with grace as she kept low, moving behind the rock walls and trees that lined the homes and pathways. This was a game that played often, this was something she had learned to excel at. She looked towards her north, seeing the long winding path and the high buildings that were on its one side. With a small flash of light, she saw Hunter's signal that someone was close by. She quickly made her way under the tall bushes, pushing herself into the reed grasses to hide herself. She made herself as small as possible, her breathing slowed down so she wouldn't be heard. Coming around the corner was Echo, water gun in hand as he slowly made his way down the path, his eyes looking every which way to find a target. A smile twitched at his lips, the thrill of this unknown game making him feel young again. His ARC Trooper training kicked in as he studied the land before him.

He saw a flash of something to his left, his eyes darted there, but his blaster stayed forward so it didn't give him away. He took a step forward, watching out of the corner of his eye towards the roof of one of the tall buildings. What he had learned as soon as he inspected the water guns was that they had been modified to have the same reach that a normal blaster would. They would shoot the water at a faster velocity then a plain plastic water gun, being able to reach targets farther away. Keeping his eye on the target he saw a flash of red on the roof.

Hunter.

With a grin Echo grabbed hold of a low hanging overhang and leaped up into the roof of a shed. He bent low, keeping his water gun ready and waiting. With slow precise steps he crapped across the roof, before jumping onto the next, his footsteps light and soft as he moved, hardly a sound coming from his boot falls. Echo inched forward, raising his blaster higher, ready to strike the second Hunter appeared.

Just a few more steps…..

"Gotcha!" He yelled as he leaped forward spraying a stream of water at…..

A strip of red cloth tied to a pole.

"What the kriff?" He had been played. He glanced around, trying to find any sign of movement when it finally clicked. Plan 24. With a groan he pulled out his comm and called to his team, letting them know what that the Batch were playing at. "I guess they forgot I know all the plans, and plan 24 is all about stealth, deception and cornering the targets. Be on guard." He told the team before jumping into the next roof, trying to find Hunter and the others.

••••••

Omega made her way farther down into Pabu, keeping to the shadows, keeping her feet light as she moved. She was following Rex as he moved with ease, keeping himself hidden from the others. He stayed off the path, keeping his back to the stone walls to protect himself. He just never looked up at the roofs, to the small nooks that helped hide his sister. Rex moved down the stone steps, taking the first steps to Lower Pabu, just as Omega wanted. The closer they got them towards the beach and the cove, the better. She looked further down into the village and saw Wrecker running towards the square. Good, he was setting up the next trap in plan 24.

Keeping to the shrubs and trees she moved softly as she followed Rex who had also gotten a glimpse of Wrecker down below. Knowing he'd take the bait, and that Echo had no doubtedly warned the others of plan 24. But Plan 24 for a Water Battle was different then the plan 24 he had grown to know. And that was working in their advantage. Watching as Rex leaped over the stone wall, going after Wrecker, she looked up towards The Nest and saw a flash of light.

"Kirff." She swore lightly before leaping over a small stone wall that had crumbled years ago and made her way up a thick tree. No more than a minute later, Gregor came around the corner. Holding her breath and pushing herself tighter to the tree truck, letting the leaves hide her, she waited until he passed below. She watched as he made his way down the path, not following Rex but keeping to the same path he had once been taking, heading to lower Pabu. Once Gregor disappeared down the stairs to the lower city, Omega came down from the tree.

"Sitrep, go." She said into her comms once her feet hit the ground.

"The King is staying on target, one of his guards is not far behind. The ARC is circling back towards The Nest." Crosshair's raspy cold voice filled her earpiece.

"I got eyes on the guard of the castle." Hunter's smoky tone spoke up after Crosshair.

"Wrecker watch your back. The King is not far behind." Crosshair came back across the comms, his eyes trained to the village below.

"I got 'em. Hang in there Wrecker." Omega said before breaking into a run down the stone stairs, leaping into the reed grass and making her way towards the markets, where Wrecker was currently trying to stay hidden from Rex. Gregor had disappeared into the market, keeping a low profile as Rex kept after Wrecker. Omega kept up with Rex, following him at a safe enough distance but too far to properly fire a clean shot of water to mark him out. So she rounded a corner, taking a different path but a faster one to where Wrecker was heading, to try and cut off Rex before he got to her teammate. She pressed her back to the stone wall of a shop, watching the small walkway between buildings for Rex to emerge. Water blaster at the ready she took a slow, can't breath like Crosshair has shown her to do, leveled out the blaster and….

"Gotcha!" Gregor's slightly higher pitched tone made her jump out of her skin, going into a tuck and roll just as a spray of water soaked the wall where she had just been. "Get back here Omega!" He laughed as he fired again at her, only for Omega to dive for the ground to avoid the spray of water. She screeched in delight as she took off running, trying to avoid the rapid fire of Gregor's water gun. His laughter also filled the air, as he made after her down the Stony path deeper into the marker square. Darting in between market stalls, Omega kept ahead of Gregor as she pushed herself faster. She could still hear his footfalls as they ran, but she kept herself small enough and well enough hidden between the carts and crates that he couldn't get a clean shot. As she neared a small alleyway, she tripped over something on the ground, the water pistol going flying from her hand. As she hit the ground she rolled to the side, pulling her water sniper off her back and raised it as Gregor ran up. But before either one could take a shot at each other, a hearty downpour of water covered Gregor from head to toe in water. His squeal of horror from the cold water soaking him through made Omega laugh as she sat up right. There on the roof was Hunter, a huge, now empty, bucket of water in hand as he smirked down at the soaking commando.

"Better luck next time, old boy." Hunter chuckled with a two finger salute before casting a look down to his sister. "Better get running, Rex isn't far off." And with that he disappeared over the rise of the next roof. Omega chuckled as Gregor tossed her a dirty but playful look and shook out his hair, sending droplets flying.

"Head up to Shep's house and get some food from Tiha." She said as she picked up her water pistol, making sure it still worked before starting down the alleyways once more.

••••••

Tiha and Riyo laughed as they watched through their binocs from the balcony at the water war below. "They sure are taking this seriously aren't they?" Riyo asked as she sat back into her seat, waiting for Gregor to show up after he had been tagged out. Tiha laughed, sitting back down and nodded her head.

"I've been with the Batch for some time now. They don't like to lose. But then again, name a Clone that does."

Riyo pointed a knowing finger at the Jedi and chuckled before looking out over the island. It was peaceful here, despite the siblings raining water chaos onto the island at the moment. It was just what was needed. Gregor soon emerged, still dropping water from his tasseled hair and his shirt was damp, but a smile graced his face as he plopped down onto an empty chair, letting the sun dry him off.

"They play dirty and I want to see the rule book." He huffed with a chuckle as he took a sip of the fruity juice Shep was known for making. Tiha laughed and leaned back into her chair, her green hair shining in the sunlight.

"Ahhh, see had I wrote it, I would let you see it. But unfortunately that's Omega's department."

"Come now, General." Gregor spoke after a sip of juice, "you don't lead these battle plans?"

Tiha ran a hand through her hair, a coy smile bright on her lips as she shrugged her shoulders at him. "It's not what you think, Gregor. I may have led men into battle during the war, but with the Bad Batch, let's be honest…. Omega calls all the shots here. This is her idea, so I let her take the lead." Before Gregor or Riyo could speak up, heavy footfalls caught their attention. The three looked towards the gate to the balcony, watching as Wrecker came walking through, his pale green shirt soaked through.

"What happened to you?"

Wrecker groaned and rang out some of his shirt before sitting down. "Rex found me." He answered Gregor as he grabbed the pitcher of juice and poured himself a cup of it. Tiha and Riyo glanced at each other before chuckling, knowing things were ramping up in the city down below.

••••••••

Crosshair watched as Howzer left their ship, making his way quickly down the stony path to aid Rex and Echo now that Gregor was out of the game. He smirked as he moved his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, grabbing his water sniper and sliding it onto his back before sliding down the pole like Omega had done earlier. Once his boots hit the ground he pulled the water rifle off his back and took off after the captain. He found a stone wall that was only a small jump to a roof of one of the houses and he leaped over it, landing on the roof with a soft thud, and took off running. He kept his eye on Howzer, while keeping low as he worked his way forward, leaping from roof to roof, keeping pace with the man below him who was unaware of the sniper above him. Crosshair moved swiftly, years of training still kicking in as the thrill of the game hummed in his blood. Once he reached the market square he stopped on the roof of a long and tall building, laying down letting his breath even out as he looked for the others through his scope. He found Hunter still sticking to the rooftops as well, Omega was in the shadows keeping low in the market. Rex and Echo had met up and were keeping close as they looked for their opponents. Howzer was still making down the path, keeping low to the stone walls as he moved forward.

Using his tongue to flip the toothpick to the other side of his lips, he raised his rifle and found Howzer in his scope. Calm, even breathing took over his body, his mind sharp but relaxed as he took aim for the soldier in teal. Just as he was about to take aim at Howzers head, he ducked blow cover and before Crosshair register it, a blast of water shot right past his head, a few drops landing on his ear as he rolled to the side, slipping down the roof he had been on and landing like a lothcat on his feet. With a growl he clenched his rifle close to his body as he slipped around the side of the market building. He kept his back passed to the cool stone wall, keeping as quiet as possible as he moved. Once Crosshair hit the edge of the building he slowly peaked around the corner, trying to find the clone that shot water at him.

Another blast of water shot past his head, making him duck back behind the corner he had been peeking out from. "Kirff!" He hissed as he raised his rifle and shot a blast of water towards the stone wall near the steps that led into the market square. Blasts of water filled the space between them, Howzer and Crosshair trying to best the other. The soldiers did their best to stay hidden, while firing water rounds at the other on almost blinded shots. This went on round after round until Crosshair saw movement out of the corner of his eye. There, on the roofs leaping from ledge to ledge was Hunter. With a smirk he made sure his water levels were full, and darted out from his hiding spot to try and get a better view point on the other side of the market. A blast of water landed only an inch from where his foot landed as he ran, so he fired a shot back and slipped behind a market cart. Hunter dropped down behind him, his breath fast and his eyes with a wild and excited look to them.

"Omega is still after Rex and Echo. I figured I'd come help you." He said between pants of breath. Crosshair nodded, watching as Howzer lifted his head up to try and find them.

"Stick to the plan, I'll loop around the back and box him in." Hunter rasped as he also checked his water levels. Crosshair gave him a knowing look, and pointed towards the grove of Tookna citrus trees behind the market square.

"You'll have a better time going through there and around. He can't get a clear shot on you with how tight those branches are." They nodded and Hunter took off, Crosshair giving him cover fire as he made his way towards the trees. Keeping an eye on the clone Captain, he noticed that Howzer stopped firing and was trying to move farther down the stone path, closer to his current hiding spot. His toothpick had long gotten too wet and soft to keep chewing on, so he flicked it from his lips, letting the wood drop onto the ground.

"Ready when you are." Hunter's smoke filled tone whispered into his ear comm. Raising his rifle, Crosshair leaped from his spot, firing rapid shots at Howzers who was answering with his own fire. The Clone in teal darted out from his hiding spot, water blasters in both hands and he made shot after shot at the sniper. Both clones skipped and darted around the water fire, that is until Crosshair went to go into a slide and ended up slipping on the water they had been firing. He swung his rifle out, catching the leg of Howzer knocking him down as well. Both went down with thuds and groans.

Hunter leaped out from the Tookna trees, firing onto Howzer with a strong spray of water soaking his hair. The Sergeant laughed as Howzer coughed and spit up water, glaring at the troopers. But before Hunter and Crosshair could celebrate another target taken out, a downpour of water spilled down Crosshair's back, soaking his shirt. He growled from the cold water and saw Hunter dive rolling away, firing a few shots at their attacker.

"Run you idiot!" Crosshair yelled as he pushed himself up into his feet, watching Rex take after Hunter down the stone road. Echo stepped forward and gave the Clone Captain and Sniper a two finger salute, a wicked grin on his face.

"It's been fun boys, but duty calls." He called over his shoulder with a laugh as he chased after Rex and Hunter who had disappeared down the path towards the cove. Crosshair picked up his water rifle and glanced at Howzers out of the corner of his eye. He saw the Captain give him a look and Crosshair aggressively plopped a toothpick between his lips with a growl.

"Not a word out of you."

••••••••••

Tiha and Riyo watched as two more clones walked through the gate, adding to their seemingly growing watch party. "Welcome boys. Grab a drink and watch the fun!" Tiha giggled as Crosshair threw her a look before jumping up into the roof of Shep's house, leaning back against the warmed thatch to let himself dry off. Howzer took a glass of juice from Gregor, taking a sip of the sweet drink.

"I swear no one here plays far." He grumbled as he plopped down next to Wrecker, who clinked his glass to the Captain's.

"Nah, it's just Omega likes to change the rules as we go. Says it keeps it more lively." Wrecker barked with a laugh, he loved the chaos. The Jedi and the Senator just shook their heads with a smile, crapping their binocs and looked out over the island. They saw Rex and Echo on the move heading to the lower levels of Pabu, but Hunter and Omega were nowhere to be found. Tiha kept looking for her missing squad members, but didn't see them on the path or the rooftops. That could only mean they were sticking to the Tookna trees, so that the thick green leaves kept them hidden on their way down after Rex and Echo. Tiha put her binocs down and walked over to the roof that Crosshair was currently sunbathing on. With a small jump she landed softly on the roof beside him and bumped his shoulder with hers.

"I see you didn't last long this round." She teased. Her green hair fluttered in the soft sea breeze, her emerald eyes catching the sunlight. Crosshair opened one eye to look at her before moving the toothpick around in his mouth. He took the hand that has been resting on his chest and laid it in her lap, taking her hand. Tiha smiles softly at the gesture, running her thumb over the skin on the back of his hand.

"True, but next time I will win." His deep tone filled her ears like music as he rolled his head to the side to look up at her. Tiha gave him a mischievous grin before leaning down and kissing his nose, making it scrench up slightly.

"Not if I'm playing you won't."

••••••

The stakes were higher now. It was 2 even on each side. The plan had been working so far, but Rex and Echo were starting to wise up to the game. That meant tweaking the plan to still work in their advantage. Hunter moved like a ghost threw the Tookna citrus trees, leaping silently from branch to branch the salt sea air drifting up from the shore to cool the slight sweat that had formed at his neck. His senses worked in overtime, listening to the three different pairs of footfalls that moved along the path and the grove. He titled his head slightly, picking up on Omega's heartbeat not too far down the grove of trees from him. Titling his head to the other side, he reached out farther and heard the slight whirl and clank of Echo's legs as they moved, the study and strong footfalls of Rex. Both moved beyond the wall of the stone path, keeping to the sea reeds that lined the edges of Lower Pabu. With a smirk he moved farther into the grove of trees until the beach came into view. The plan was if they could get them to the cove, there was a small pool of water that showed up after low tide. It was the perfect trap to get the last two troopers to get completely soaked. He heard Omega move away from the grove of trees, having reached the beach and she began to take off running. He watched her from the grove's end, making sure she made it far enough ahead before Rex and Echo saw her. He heard a gleeful laugh as they made chase on the younger sister, and he waited until they passed before jumping from the tree and taking off after them. Hunter's legs pumped through the sand, his hair flying behind him as he felt the sun warm his skin. Omega led the group farther into the cove, ducking between two huge boulders that only had a big enough gap for her to fit through. Rex and Echo stopped short trying to figure out where she went when Echo saw Hunter approaching.

"Shit, go Rex!" He yelled as he dropped and rolled to the side, moving around the side of one of the large boulders. The pool of water was close by, Hunter knew Omega and he just had to push Rex and Echo back far enough to fall into it and they won. He went after Rex, who went around the other side of the boulder that took a longer path around to the pool that was hidden in the cove that Omega had already disappeared into. Pushing the Captain farther down the coast line, following the natural rock wall that blocked off most of the cove from view until you hit the part that opened up the ocean. During low tide a path made of boulders was available to walk across. During high tide the only way in was the small opening Omega had gone through, or climbing down from the cliffs below. Since it was low tide Hunter chased Rex towards the Cove opening, in hopes of pinning him down inside.

He could pick up the hum and click of Echo's mechanics from behind, but he didn't care at this point. He just needed to push Rex into the Cove and Omega would help take them out. The mouth of the cove came into sight and Hunter smiled triumphantly as the target moved into place. The war was over for this batch of clones, but they still found ways to use their training, to make their blood rush through their veins, to feel alive with adrenaline. The thrill of the chase.

Leaping from stone to stone Rex, Hunter and Echo raced into the cove, water blasting from their guns as they tried to best one another. Once they reach the island inside of the Cove, the small pool of water in its center they threw men came to a standstill, guns raised at each other and wild looks to their eyes. Hunter felt a smirk pull at his lips as he saw Omega crouched up on top of the cliff side ready for him to back Echo up enough for her to spray with water. He raised his guns a bit higher, making Echo and Rex both flinch.

"Seems we have a problem here boys." He finally spoke up, looking each one in the eyes before glancing back at Omega. Rex followed his gaze, seeing the blonde haired teen at the ready.

"What's the play here?"

"Care to surrender, Hunter?" Echo taunted as he tightened his grip on his water gun. He raised an eyebrow at Hunter when he saw a wicked grin spread across his lips. The Sergeant gave a dark chuckle, tossing his head to the side slightly to remove the hair that had blown into his eyes. With one final glance up to his child, he locked eyes with Echo and spoke one word.

"Negative."

Water blasted through the air as Omega shot at Echo's feet, making him jump to the side. Willing to sacrifice himself so their team could win, Hunter leaped forward, grabbing Rex around the waist and pushing him backwards with all his strength. Both men went flying down into the sand, Hunter forcing them into a roll as they both fired arounds of water at each other. With a final shove both went tumbling into the pool, going under the water before resurfacing coughing and spitting up the salty sea water that filled their noses and mouths. Echo was so busy watching the others that he didn't pay attention to Omega jumping from her perch and blasted him right in the back of the neck with a long stream of cold water. The ARC Trooper gasped from the cold wetness dripping down under his shirt as Omega kept firing on him. He threw his water gun down, raising his hands in the air as he laughed.

"Okay, okay! You win!" He exclaimed with laughter as he turned around to face the young girl. With a final blast of water to his face, Omega stopped firing the water gun, her laughter mixing with his as he wiped the water off his now dripping face. Rex and Hunter both laughed along as they climbed out of the pool, their clothes soaked through. Hunter's bandana has come off in the fall, his hair now loose and messy in his face as he shook it out, letting the water drops spray over Omega.

"Hunter!" Her giddy cries filled the air as she jumped back from her brother. The four of them all picked up their weapons and started the long walk back up to Shep's house to find the others. They talked and laughed along the way, the soldiers seeming more relaxed and at ease then they had ever been or felt before. It felt good to let loose and laugh, to be kids in their own way for once in their lives. Once they reached the top of Pabu and walked through the gates to Shep's balcony, Omega went running over to Crosshair who was sitting with Tiha on the hammock.

"We won Crosshair!" Her voice breathy from the long walk. He smiled up at her before ruffling her hair, making her giggle. Hunter, Rex and Echo each grabbed a glass of juice and found seats amongst their brothers and the Senator, letting the warm afternoon sun finish drying off their clothes as they sat and chatted.

"I still say I want to see a rule book." Gregor joked as he gave Omega a playful look. The teen stuck her tongue out at the Captain and the group laughed.

"You're just mad you lost to a kid." She jabbed back. This made a few of the boys howl with laughed, others tried to hide it behind their glasses. Gregor shot her a look before his own chuckle mixed with the others. Tiha and Riyo smiled at each other from their seats, happy to see the group of clones so relaxed and happy. It filled their hearts with joy to see them letting go for a moment, leaving the war behind for just a second to just be a family with little care in the galaxy.

"I think if we had known the rules we would have won." Howzer spoke up.

"Yeah, don't think next time you're going to win." Rex added with a lopsided smirk on his lips. "We won't be so easy to beat."

Tiha glanced at Crosshair, giving his hand a squeeze. He gave her a questioning look, watching as she got up from the hammock and walked over to Riyo. The two women gave each other a look, before Tiha gave a coy smile to the group.

"What are you two up to?" Crosshair questioned as he sat up straighter, knowing the look that was in his lover's eyes. As the others turned to look at the two women, Tiha waved her hand towards the open door of Shep's house. Two water blasters floated through the air, landing in the Jedi and Senator's hands.

"Care for round two gang?"

Tagging: @lila-rose @mp0625 @cellythefloshie @dystopicjumpsuit @cyarbika @sunshinesdaydream @the-little-moment @freesia-writes

[dragonrider9905reads]

Big Announcement!

Hello There!

I am very happy to announce my secondary channel: DragonRider Reads!

The purpose of this channel is to read and reblog your amazing fics! I want to keep the clone fandom strong and going and what else is better than to have a place to go to where a whole bunch of them are collected and consolidated!

How you can help: send me a story! Whether it's one that you're proud of that you wrote or a recommendation of another's, please pass it my way!

How this will work: I will read works recommended to me that are sent in the asks (I will totally take art too! Never can turn down an amazing picture!) and I will reblog with commentary! I will read anything ranging from AUs to Canon to OC centric stories and reader inserts but I will NOT read/reblog NSFW, clone shipping, adult x minor content!

Thanks for reading and looking forward to seeing you in the notes!

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕖𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕠𝕨𝕫𝕖𝕣

⋆ ★ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 2023 ʟɪɴᴇᴜᴘ

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ʜᴏᴡᴢᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴏʏ, ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛʟʏ ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʙᴀᴅ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀᴍɪɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪᴅɪᴄᴜʟᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴛᴇᴅɪᴏᴜꜱ ʏᴇᴛ ꜱᴇxʏ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴘʟᴀʏ

⋆ ★ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴡɪᴛʜ, ᴡᴇʟʟ, ɴᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴅ ᴍᴇ ʙʟᴜꜱʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴜʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ :)

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

“What would you like me to do for you?”

You turn your head, fixing your posture as you gaze at your boyfriend across the room. He’s dressed handsomely to the nines; the black uniform shines like patent leather, silver buttons catching the light like metalwork in a museum. His white waistcoat and dress shirt peek out from beneath, hugging his form and frame most enticingly. His hands folded at his front, gloved in white, curl slowly, stretching out his knuckles as if he were preparing himself. Everything about him is pure grace and gift, something you're so thankful to lay hungry, salacious eyes upon. You lean an elbow on your armrest, taking long and thoughtful libations of his appearance. Then, you think about what he asks you.

You don’t take long. Those few words provide all you need to know. It’s a part of your secret language, how you communicate while playing characters. It’s how you know Howzer is ready to serve you as your obedient butler tonight.

“That’s a good question,” You say, smiling coyly. You spin yourself in your chair and cross your legs, casually comprising yourself into a pretty glass of water for him to drink. “I’m not sure yet.”

Howzer nods curtly, swiping his covered palms against each other as he looks at your positioning by the vanity. He’s endlessly patient, this man; especially when tasked like this to serve. You adore it.

“I’ve cleaned the sitting room and the kitchen,” He informs, and you grin in approval. “I also folded all of the laundry.”

“Thank you,” You twirl a strand of hair between a finger and bite your lip as he inches closer. You tantalize and tease the other in your little game of cat and mouse as Howzer anticipates your next move, eager and curious to see what you have in mind.

“It’s simply my job, my lady.”

Your core tingles and your spine shivers in thrill.

“Of course,” You fake correct yourself. Howzer takes another step closer. You uncross your legs and smooth out the skirt of your dress. “If you have nothing else to do…”

Perking up, he watches your tongue swipe against your bottom lip and get tugged between your top teeth.

“Yes?” He waits for you to finish your sentence.

“Would you take off my shoes for me?” You lift a leg and point your toes in his direction with a raised eyebrow. It’s hard not to smirk.

You don’t expect him to comply so quickly. He drops to his knees and crawls toward you almost immediately.

He takes off your shoes, his peripheral vision guiding him as he keeps eye contact with you.

When both are off, Howzer slides a gentle palm up and down your right shin. You bite your lip.

“Good job.” 

The praise heats his cheeks.

“Of course.”

Howzer places your shoes on the floor, sliding off your socks with it, but his eyes are zeroed in on your exposed skin above, your legs set only a little spread. Not enough for him to fit his head between them, but certainly enough to get a good look.

He hisses. Crest of his chin dipping down, the motion is almost like he’s bowing to his high commander, keen to obey. He purses his lips and plants a firm, long kiss on the side of your calf. His eyes remain shut as he trails his mouth up and kisses the very beginning of your inner thigh.

You hum, patting his head and running your fingers through his soft hair in a soothing, overly doting manner.

“I think you’re a little distracted, Howzer,” you tell him with a fake frown.

“I’m sorry.” At least the apology seems profuse. “How would you like me to serve you, my lady?”

You pretend to take your time thinking thoughtfully over what you want him to do. But you already know. You spread your legs further.

“Slide my panties off…” Humming softly as he runs his hands on the outside of your thighs, slipping past your skirt and hovering over the waistband of your panties. You lean in further, nipping at his ear while one hand cradles his jaw. “...and eat.”

Something of a groan leaves his throat. His next words are barely a whisper, muttered against your skin when he leans in to finally get his fill, fulfill your request.

“As you wish…”

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[freesia-writes]

Howzer Appreciation Post

Number one on my list of Space Daddies...

Feel free to read the ongoing canon-possible backstory I'm workin on. Action, adventure, and romance with this sexxeh man. ;)

Someone called him “Baja Blast DILF” and I’m all about it. 😂