#arc trooper fives x oc

[leenathegreengirl]

I can only dream of finding a love like theirs 🥲💜💕

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[jetii]

Good Graces

Chapter One

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x Esmé Terel (Handmaiden!OC)

Tags/Warnings: Fives POV, romance, fluff, hurt/comfort, action/adventure, unrequited feelings, kinda enemies to lovers, forced proximity, awkward flirting, eventual smut, Fives is a bit much in this chapter but he evens out quick

Fic Summary: Assigned to protect Senator Amidala during high-stakes peace talks on Naboo, ARC Trooper Fives finds himself working alongside Esmé, one of Padmé’s longtime handmaidens. She’s disciplined, distant, and utterly unimpressed by his charm—exactly the kind of challenge Fives can’t resist. But when an unexpected crisis forces them into an uneasy partnership, he realizes there’s far more to Esmé than she lets anyone see. And he might just be in over his head.

Chapter WC: 2,172

A/N: I love Padmé's handmaidens and all the lore that goes with it, and I couldn't resist writing this. I'm aiming for about 10 chapters total. There's a new option on the taglist for this fic btw (feel free to update your choices if you don't want to be tagged in this).

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It's a simple assignment. Escort Senator Amidala during the peace talks, ensure she stays safe, and after, if he's lucky, spend a night drinking and enjoying the sights of Naboo's capital city with his brothers. Easy enough.

Fives is well-versed in these sorts of things. The escort missions are some of the few types of jobs the 501st takes up outside of the battlefield. It's always senators, ambassadors, or important personages, and most of the time, they're content to let him and his brothers do their jobs, as they should.

He likes doing this. It's a breath of fresh air to the normal routine. Most of their missions, after all, tend to be high-risk, high-stress, and high-fatality. It's hard not to appreciate the simplicity of the assignments every once in a while, and he's sure it's the same for all the other troopers. They get to take a break from the fighting, and instead get to have the pleasure of walking among beautiful landscapes and beautiful people. It's not a bad gig.

He just wishes it wasn't Senator Amidala.

He has nothing against the Senator herself, of course. She's nice, polite, and professional, and she's very clearly well-acquainted with the ways of the galaxy. She's the exact opposite of the clueless, sheltered politicians he's so used to dealing with, and that alone puts her leagues above her peers in his mind.

But it's not her he's worried about.

It's her handmaiden.

Esmé is the sort of woman he'd go out of his way to meet on any other day. The kind of woman that would stop him dead in his tracks, make him reevaluate his life, and then make him consider dropping everything to chase her until she'd let him have her. He's never had an easy time ignoring his attraction to pretty girls, and Esmé is just that.

She's the picture of everything a Nabooian woman is supposed to be, with her dark, curling hair, golden skin, and a pair of large hazel eyes that shine a deep amber in the light. She's smart, beautiful, and a little bit mean, the sort of person Fives knows his brothers would joke about being his type. And they're right.

He doesn't believe in love at first sight, but Esmé is the closest thing he's ever found to it. She's perfect in almost every single way.

So, naturally, he doesn't understand why she hates him.

She doesn't look at him, doesn't talk to him, doesn't even acknowledge him. She barely spares him a second glance when they're together. Her words are curt, her tone cold, and she doesn't speak more than a few sentences to him even when he tries to engage her. 

He's not entirely sure what he's done to offend her. He's never been anything but polite and friendly. Maybe a little too friendly in hindsight, but he can't imagine what would have set her off. The most she's ever given him was an annoyed look and a sigh when he'd tried to help her carry her things. She's never actually told him to fuck off, but it's obvious enough from the way she ignores him that he might as well not be there.

But even with how obviously she's avoiding him, he can't bring himself to dislike her. She's just... something else. It's hard not to think about her even when he's not around her, and he finds himself wanting her attention. Wanting her. 

He's a bit of a glutton for punishment, he'll admit, but there's a certain thrill in knowing that Esmé could destroy him with a single word, and he'd thank her for it. He doesn't even know what it is about her. Maybe it's the challenge, maybe it's the fact that he's a weak man and a pretty face is all it takes to make him want to get on his knees and beg, or maybe it's something else entirely, but he doesn't think it really matters.

The point is, he wants her, and she's decided he's not worth her time.

If it were any other woman, he would have backed off. But it's not any other woman. It's her. And he can't stop himself from thinking about her, from staring at her, from wishing she'd spare him just a sliver of the attention she devotes to Senator Amidala.

It's a hopeless endeavor. She's completely disinterested, and he knows he should give up.

But he's stubborn, and a bit of an idiot, and he's not quite ready to let go. The universe has handed him the perfect opportunity, and he doesn't know if he'll ever get another chance like this to spend so much time alone with her. He doesn't know what he'll do, or what he'll say, but he'll figure it out.

He's not letting her go without a fight.

He's got the entire week.

All he has to do is figure out a way to win her over.

Fives trips the moment he's stepping out of the gunship.

The Senator's entourage, gathered on the landing pad, watches in abject horror as he falls forward, his helmet slipping off of his head as his hands fly out to catch himself. In his haste to follow General Skywalker out of the ship, his foot catches on the ramp and sends him stumbling forward. His bucket goes sailing through the air, bouncing off of the paved stones and skittering to a stop against Esmé's feet.

There's a moment of silence as he stares at his helmet in shock, his gaze trailing slowly up the delicately embroidered skirt, across Esmé's stomach, her chest, and finally, to her face. Her expression is carefully blank, but there's something about the look in her eyes that lets him know exactly how stupid he's just looked.

At her side, Senator Amidala holds a hand over her mouth to hide a smile, though her shoulders tremble slightly as she looks away. General Skywalker is outright snickering, and he can hear Jesse and Tup laughing loudly from inside the gunship behind him. Even Rex has the audacity to snort quietly as he steps down from the ramp.

Fives' ears burn as he jumps to his feet. A nervous chuckle escapes him as he dusts himself off.

"Ah. Um. Hi."

Esmé stares back at him blankly. She looks down at the helmet lying at her feet and then back up to him.

"I—" He starts down the ramp quickly, his eyes never leaving her. "That's..."

Esmé leans down and plucks the helmet from the ground before he can force any more words out. She holds it between her thumb and forefinger, inspecting the visor, her nose wrinkling slightly in distaste. He thinks she might laugh at him like the others, but instead, she gathers her sleeve in her hand and uses the fabric to rub the visor clean, ignoring him entirely.

He feels his chest go a bit warm at the sight, and his footsteps stutter. 

General Skywalker claps him on the shoulder, laughing, and then he's walking past him towards Senator Amidala, greeting her warmly. She gives him a bright smile, and the two of them begin to talk in low tones, heads bent together as they walk away.

Esmé still hasn't looked at him, even as he comes to a stop at her side. Her eyes are still on his helmet, her lip curling slightly. She must feel him staring, because she looks over at him and quirks a brow, her gaze flicking downwards and then back up again. 

He realizes belatedly that he's still watching her with his mouth open. He closes his mouth and clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"You, um." Fives' tongue darts out to wet his lips. He clears his throat. "I'm Fives, by the way. ARC Trooper. Just in case you forgot. Or... if you didn't know. I don't think I ever introduced myself."

Esmé gives him a bland look.

He shifts his weight. Looks down at his helmet, then at her, then down again.

"...Right." He laughs nervously. "You probably already knew that."

She doesn't speak, merely holding out his helmet for him to take. He's quick to accept it, his cheeks going hot as their fingers brush. He tucks the helmet beneath his arm and rocks back on his heels, trying not to fidget under the heat of her stare.

"Thanks," he says lamely.

Again, she says nothing. But her gaze is still on him, and he wonders, briefly, if maybe now would be a good time to say something, maybe start a conversation, try and get to know her. Maybe if he could just find something they had in common, a shared interest, he could—

"Don't mention it," Esmé says finally. Her gaze trails downwards and back up. There’s a hint of…something in her tone. It's hard to tell what. Disdain? Indifference? Boredom? All three? "I suppose it’s not every day a man falls at your feet."

Fives nearly chokes on his tongue, his entire body going rigid as he stares down at her. He can hear the other troopers hooting with laughter behind him, but he's too caught off guard by her words to do anything but gape. 

Had she just...was that a joke? A tease? Something else? It was hard to tell, with how emotionless her voice had sounded. But he sees her lips twitch, a barely-there tilt of the corner of her mouth that he'd have missed if he hadn't been looking for it. 

Oh. Oh.

He hadn't thought—

Well, now. This changes everything.

He can’t seem to make his mouth work for a few long seconds. She's watching him now, a slight furrow in her brow, and suddenly, all he can think about is getting her alone and showing her exactly how willing he is to fall at her feet.

She seems to realize her mistake immediately. Her lips thin into a tight line, and her jaw goes tight. There's a subtle change in her demeanor, the way she holds herself, the look on her face. He can't place what it is, but something is different, and it's like someone's flipped a switch. Gone is the amused gleam in her eyes, replaced with a cool disinterest that makes his heart sink.

Esmé nods at him curtly, and then turns away, her shoulders squared and her chin held high. The rest of the entourage is already heading toward the transports waiting to take them into the city, and she follows without a backwards glance, her stride steady and sure.

"See you around," Fives calls after her, once he’s managed to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

Esmé’s shoulders tense slightly, her foot hovering in midair. It's brief, only a half-second of hesitation, and then she's continuing on her way, hands tightened into fists behind her back. 

He watches as she stops to help Senator Amidala fix her shawl, tucking it back over the Senator's shoulder and brushing her hands along the fabric. The two exchange a few quiet words, their heads bent together, and then Esmé is turning and following the rest of the party towards the transport.

He can't help but admire the way she moves, her hair fluttering in the breeze, and the sway of her hips as she walks. There's a confidence in her, an air of authority that sets her apart from the rest of the handmaidens and staff trailing behind her, and it's mesmerizing to watch.

Maybe it's a trick of the light, or maybe he's imagining it, but he swears he sees her cast a glance back at him, her eyes narrowed. He stares back at her and grins, and he sees her shoulders go tight. She whips around quickly and marches towards the transport without another look back.

He feels his chest swell with something that feels dangerously close to hope.

That was the first time she'd ever spared him a second glance. And the first time she'd ever spoken to him directly. It might not have been much, but it was a start. A good one, he thinks. And it's something he can build off of.

Maybe this won't be as hard as he'd originally thought.

"Wow," Rex says from behind him.

"Yeah," Fives breathes. "Wow."

Rex gives him a pitying look and pats him on the back. He leaves his hand there as he starts herding Fives along, and Fives lets himself be led. He doesn't stop watching her, even as the transport doors close behind her and she disappears from view.

"You're not going to be any help this week, are you?" Rex asks, his voice low.

Fives shakes his head. He can't seem to wipe the smile off of his face.

"Nope," he answers distractedly, still trying to catch a glimpse of her through the tinted windows. "I'm gonna do something stupid, Rex. I can feel it."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Rex turn his gaze skyward as if praying for patience, his sigh heavy and put-upon.

"Of course you are."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @champagnejaig

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@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

[captainrexsir]

What if…

I went more insane than Fox trying to write all of these simultaneously?

Would anyone want to read them? What format is best for everyone? Tumblr? Ao3 (I’ve never used it to publish)? Wattpad(does anyone use wattpad anymore? lol)?

Please repost with which story you’re most interested in and why! :) helps feed my willpower to handle them all and not keep asking my man if it’s worth the mental break I may have doing this lmao

#alsotakingapplicationsforwriterfriends

(Feed back appreciatedddd)

[hellfiresky]

Seeing Red: Morning run and midnight snack

Contribution for @clonexocweek | Theme: Intimacy

This is an excerpt from the second half of Chapter 29 of Seeing Red - though this section works surprisingly well as a standalone chapter.

Summary: Tal and Fives, long-time friends with benefits, approach sex the same way they approach sports - a game meant for bonding, passing time, chatting, and burning calories. And just like any other sport you play with friends, this one is entirely platonic.

Pairings: Fives x Ge’tal Solus (F!OC - Mandalorian bounty hunter) - Platonic, yet sexual. Word count: 4k Warnings: Sexual content, lots of swearing, aftercare includes existential crisis.

Taglist: @orangez3st @msmeredithrose Recommended to play this song as a soundtrack!

Chapter 29 (second half): Morning run and midnight snack

The bed creaked under them, and not in a flattering way. Tal let out a moan - not the good kind - as she shifted her weight, pressing her palm against Fives’ chest.

“Move your fucking elbow. You’re stabbing me.”

“That’s your fault for buying the galaxy’s worst mattress,” he adjusted his position. “You call this a bed? Feels like we’re lying on a stack of durasteel plates.”

“You never complained before. Quit whining and roll—ow, not that way! My hip’s pinned.”

He snorted, easily shifting Tal from under him to on top of him, just how she liked it. “Better?”

“For me, yeah. No idea how your spine’s holding up.”

“You’re not exactly light as a feather yourself, Red,” he grinned as he adjusted her thighs. “What do you eat, beskar for breakfast? How could you look small and be this heavy?”

“Shut up, I’m not small,” she snapped. “You clones are spoiled. Kaminoans probably made your cots all soft and ergonomic.”

“Soft?” Fives gave her an accusatory look mid-thrust. “Do you know what we slept on as cadets? Hard slabs in pods. Literal fucking slabs. Also yes, you’re small compared to me.”

“Oh, boo hoo,” Tal swatted his arm from where she was straddling him. “Try napping in one of those greasy ventilation levels whilst tailing a target. No slabs there, just piss and prayers.”

“Wooooooooow, you’re so tough,” he whined. “Move your leg a bit. No, the other one. You’re cutting off circulation.”

“Maker, you’re high maintenance,” she held back a moan as she adjusted her position, the salvaged DIY mechanical parts of her bed frame groaning under them. “Better?”

“Much. I can feel my toes again.” Fives let out a small grunt of satisfaction. “Oh, that’s good. Keep going.” Tal let out a breathless laugh. She gripped the sad excuse of a headboard in front of her as she tried to keep her pace. “Why am I… doing…” she moaned, “…all the work here?”

Fives finally started pushing back again. “Because my legs are still recovering from Geo-fucking-nosis related injury. Unlike you, some of us had to fight a literal bug army.” Tal groaned, but not in the way he’d like during times like this. “Fuck’s sake. You and your war stories.”

“Keep going at that pace,” he dropped his voice an octave, holding her waist down to encourage her. “I can feel myself—”

“OW! Elbow again!” she yelped, cutting him off, her head snapping back to glare at him. That was all it took to send Fives into a fit of laughter. He barely managed to hold himself upright as his shoulders shook with a full-blown belly laugh. “Alright, alright! From the top then?” he managed between wheezes.

“Yeah, but stay right there this time, don’t move,” Tal ordered, rolling her eyes as she reset her position. Slowly, she moved her hips again. Fives’ hands followed instinctively, guiding her back into rhythm.

“See? Was that so difficult?” He accompanied his words with an overly dramatic grunt of approval. He reached up to brush her sweaty hair out of her face. Tal huffed, bracing herself better this time. “If you stop messing around for two seconds, maybe this wouldn’t be so karking hard.”

Fives snickered. “You’re the one making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Excuse me?” she shot back, nearly losing balance again. “You’re the one who—”

“Fuck, that’s it,” Fives pushed himself upwards. He pulled her closer and finally actively thrusting against her. “Hold on,”

“What?” Tal frowned between her moans.

“Just do it,”

Tal wrapped her arms around his shoulders to steady herself. The way his grip suddenly tightened on her waist sent a jolt through her, and she bit down on a smirk, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing the effect he had on her. He carefully got off her creaky bed and walked towards one of the kitchen counters.

“Really? Here?” Tal swallowed a moan. “Whatever happened… to… busted legs?”

“This is actually better, giving them more vertical pressure,” Fives grunted. “Stars, you feel so good.” His forehead brushed hers for a moment before he pulled back just enough to catch her gaze. The mischievous glint in his eyes was softer with that oh-so-familiar-look she wouldn’t dare question.

“You’re—” His words cut off with a groan, his hands sliding up to the small of her back.

“What?” she asked breathlessly. “Never mind,” he shook his head with a raspy laugh. “You’ll just make fun of me for it later.”

She wrapped her arms tighter around him as he pistoned relentlessly. “Fuck,” she gasped, biting his shoulder out of habit. Tal thoroughly enjoyed the sounds that came out of his mouth, the feeling of his soft hair tangled in her fingers, or how she knew her neighbour would slip another flimsi full of noise complaints in her doorstep again. It was Fives’ third night there in that week, and she was having too much fun to push him back to his barracks.

“I’m almost there,” she managed to talk in between moans.

“Together?” Fives suggested.

She didn’t even have to say anything. Fives pumped out a final thrust before both of them finally came together, all spent and out of breath. Tal rested her forehead on his shoulder as he softly ran his hand on her back. “You hungry?”

“Starved,”

“Hmm,” He left her side for a moment, returning with a damp towel from her fresher and a glass of cold water. She took the glass gratefully, draining it as he carefully cleaned her up, taking his time wiping away the mess they’d made.

“What do you feel like? Fried rice? Nerf burger?” he asked.

“Nerf burger with chips. Greasy, cheap, and perfect,” Tal tousled his hair. He knew the underlying message. “I’ll order as soon as I’m done here.” He gave the towel one last pass before chuckling. “You should really invest in a better bed, though.”

Tal burst out laughing and grabbed the towel, tossing it onto his head. “That bed is perfectly fine, you osik!”

Fives shrugged, letting the towel slide off. “My back disagrees. Anyway, where were you last night? I commed you, but no answer. Case, Jesse, and I wanted to take you out to this pizza place in Uscru. They’ve got these ridiculous cheese pulls—”

“Eh, I was busy,” she cut in, hopping off the counter and pulling on her clothes. She watched as Fives grabbed her comlink from the cluttered bedside table and dialed the nerf burger joint’s code.

“Busy?” he arched an eyebrow as he waited for the operator to pick up. “Care to elaborate, or is that all I’m getting?”

The operator answered, and Fives rattled off their usual order while Tal threw herself onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling. Was it wise to tell him she’d been with his captain the night before?

It was just talking. Nothing happened.

Her gaze drifted to Fives, who was still adding extra fries to their order. He wasn’t her boyfriend; he was just her friend with benefits. But still…

“You sure were busy,” Fives quipped as he hung up, eyes narrowed playfully.

“Yep. Super busy.” She rolled over on her stomach, and buried her face in the pillow.

“Busy doing what?” he flopped onto the bed beside her, smacking her ass for an answer.

“Ten credits,” she mumbled, words drowned by the pillow.

“What?” Fives twisted his head to look at her.

“Ten credits for an answer,” she repeated.

Fives broke into a laugh. “I’m not giving you shit!” he swiped her datapad off the nightstand and scrolled through the holoseries library. “What was that stupid vampire holoseries again?” he asked, already losing himself in her catalogue.

“What We Do in the Dark?” she guessed without lifting her face from the pillow.

“That’s the one.” He snapped his fingers and punched in the name, letting the latest episode stream onto the blank wall in front of her bed. “You really don’t want to tell your friend here where you were?” Fives continued to press the issue. “Case and Jesse were looking forward to hanging out with you again.”

“How come you didn’t invite Echo?” she countered. She lifted her head to shoot him a questioning look. “He’s your twin,” she added.

“Yeah, yeah, my twin, ” he echoed. “He was busy with one of his readings or whatever. Guy’s been glued to his datapad all week.”

“Unlike you,” Tal muttered with a snort.

Fives tossed her datapad back onto the nightstand. “Some of us know how to have a life outside work.”

“Work? Is that what you call this?” She finally rolled on her back and pointed at the holoseries on the wall. “Hey, hey, hey,” Fives protested. “This is culture, okay? You don’t just dismiss vampires duking it out in the Underlevels like it’s nothing.”

Tal smacked his arm before she settled in beside him. She loved him, and she knew he loved her too - like how friends loved each other. That was it. Whatever extracurricular activities they shared, it didn’t matter. It was like playing wicket ball: a sport, a game, something they both enjoyed without strings. She leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling his arm draped around her instinctively. “Come on, who?” Fives pressed.

“Alright, fine,” she finally caved under his relentless prodding. “I was out with your ori’vod last night.”

“Be more specific. I have millions of them,” Fives turned his head to look at her.

“Your captain,” she clarified. “Rex?” Fives stiffened, and turned to look at her in exaggerated horror. “ Rex? ” he repeated, the word drawn out like it physically hurt him to say it.

“Why?” he finally managed, settling back into his earlier position but still side-eyeing her like she’d just confessed to something unthinkable.

Tal couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. “Relax. It wasn’t a date or anything,” she nudged him playfully with her shoulder.

“Then what was it?” Fives asked. “Rex isn’t exactly the ‘let’s grab a drink and shoot the shit’ kind of guy, you know?”

“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think,” she shrugged. “We just talked. About life, the war, the usual depressing shit that everyone avoids until it smacks them in the face.”

“You? Talking about life? That’s rich coming from someone who ducks questions like she’s on the run from the law.”

“Hey, I talk about life a lot. We talk about life a lot. Especially after you came back from a tough mission,” Tal shot back. She shoved her shoulder into his, this time harder, making him wobble before she sat up and reached for the bottle of water on her nightstand.

“Oh, sure,” Fives caught his balance. “If by ‘talking about life,’ you mean you asking me dumb questions like, ‘What would you do if you weren’t a clone?’”

“Dumb? Those are important questions!” she retorted between gulps of water. “Philosophical, even.”

“Sure, Jedi,” Fives quipped, arms crossed. “Next thing you know, you’ll be asking me what the meaning of life is.”

“Been there, done that,” Tal capped the bottle and tossing it back onto the nightstand. “You said bantha steak with glazed sauce.’”

“Rex is definitely rubbing off on you,” Fives suddenly muttered, scrolling through her datapad aimlessly.

“Rubbing off on me? Fives, what the fuck.” Tal gawked in horror.

He threw his hands up defensively. “Get your mind outta the gutter! I didn’t mean it like that! I meant, like… you know, making you all serious and reflective and shit.”

“Right,” she drawled. “For the record, your captain isn’t as uptight as you think he is. When he’s not barking orders, he’s actually tolerable.”

“So… you’re saying you like him?” Fives grinned. “Also, I know he’s not uptight. He just barely goes out. I don’t think he’s ever been to the underworld.”

Tal rolled her eyes. “As a person, sure. Don’t read too much into it, Fives. Not everyone’s out here playing wicket ball with their friends, if you catch my drift.”

“That sounded suspiciously defensive,” Fives leaned against the headboard with a shit-eating grin. “You sure nothing’s going on?”

“Positive,” she glared at him. Before Fives could press further, the apartment buzzer went off. Tal groaned and slapped his thigh. “Nerf burger. Go get it.”

“Bossy,” Fives muttered as he swung his legs off the bed. “Pause the show.”

“Yo, I paid for it,” Tal called after him, her laughter trailing as he grabbed his shoes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Fives grumbled half-heartedly. “Better be extra sauce in here.”

“So, no upcoming missions for you boys?” Tal asked as soon as Fives dropped the flimsi bag in front of her. She unwrapped her nerf burger - extra cheese, extra chili, just the way she liked it. Fives was already halfway through a handful of fries, his tipping back a glass of fizzy drink he’d ordered without consulting her.

He shrugged, swallowing. “We’re still recovering. They’re being nice by giving us this extended recovery leave. You know how it is - need to keep us sharp but not too sharp. No good having us out there if we’re broken. Anyway, political issues brewing across the ponds.” He pointed at her using a piece of fry. “You’ve heard about Mandalore, right? Death Watch? Duchess Satine? You seem… quiet about it. Aren’t they still your people?”

Tal paused mid-bite, the question caught her off guard. Sure, she kept up with the news - what went down on her home planet, mostly about the ideological battles. But it all felt like noise, completely drowned out by more immediate concerns. There was a small bounty to chase, the final push to organise that bounty hunters’ union, a gift to find for Leea’s birthday, hauling BL-4D to Rafa’s sister for her to fix. Not to mention whatever the fuck yesterday had been with Rex, and why she couldn’t shake the urge to drag him out again. The smaller GAR assignments piling up didn’t help either. “People is a strong word,” she reached over to snatch the fry from Fives’ fingers before he could eat it. She popped it into her mouth before continuing. “They’re people, sure. But they’re not my people.”

Fives watched her closely. Head tilted, eyebrows scrunched, frozen, weirded out. “You don’t have an opinion? A hot take? That doesn’t sound like you.” She smirked at his jab, and rolled her eyes. “What’s there to say? A bunch of zealots claiming they’re the true heirs of Mandalore while the Duchess tries to keep her perfect little pacifist glass castle from shattering. They’re both clinging to some version of Mandalore that never really existed.”

“That’s harsh, even for you,” Fives dipped a fry in the hot sauce before popping it into his mouth.

“Look, I got exiled for doing shit. Yes, I was wrong, but I still don’t think I deserved to be exiled. But… they decided I wasn’t one of them anymore. So, no, I don’t feel like I owe Mandalore anything. Let them fight their pointless fights.”

“Sounds like you care. Even if you’re pretending not to.” Fives huffed a laugh.

“Maybe I care about how stupid they’re all being,” she picked up her nerf burger from the wrapper. “But I’ve got enough on my plate without worrying about a planet that tossed me out years ago.”

“Yeah, but...”

Tal sighed, setting the burger down carefully on its wrapper. “Okay, here’s an opinion. Death Watch is a joke. They wear the armour, throw around a bunch of ancient warrior rhetoric, but they’re just opportunists. Hiding behind ideals they don’t even understand. It’s not about honour, it’s about power.” She snatched a fry from his stash. “And Satine?” Tal continued her rant. “She’s no better. She pretends like Mandalore was always meant to be a place of peace. As if our history wasn’t built on war and blood. She talks about progress but ignores what made Mandalorians who we are. And in the process, she’s alienated half the system. Maybe more.”

Her fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the fry before popping it in her mouth. “But like I said, none of it really matters to me. I’m not part of that fight anymore. I gave up the right to care when they kicked me out.” Her bitterness carried something softer underneath it. Regret, maybe. Or relief. Fives studied her for a moment, his quick tongue stilled by her tone. “Again, doesn’t sound like you don’t care.”

“Old habits die hard, I guess. But caring about Mandalore is a one-way ticket to disappointment, vod. Trust me.” She rolled her eyes.

Fives let out a chuckle, which made her eyebrows scrunched. “What’s so funny, jaboon?”

“It’s just… ironic,” Fives began, hand busy swirling the straw in the flimsi cup of iced tea that came with their order. “How my brothers and I search for meaning in Mandalorian culture. In those who trained us back on Kamino, in our donor, in our prime.” He took a deliberate sip before continuing. “We were born - hell, we were bred - in a vacuum. A place so sterile we had to develop our own culture from scratch. Growing up surrounded by millions of people who looked and sounded exactly like you… it was insane. Like staring into an endless hall of mirrors, except each reflection is supposed to be an actual person.”

Tal momentarily forgot the nerf burger in her hand. She had never thought about her Mandalorian heritage as anything but a given - a birthright. She never questioned whether it meant something because it was simply there, a part of her blood and bones. But for Fives, for the clones, it was completely different.

“We looked for meaning in our prime,” Fives continued. “The one who literally made us. But to him? We were just cattle. Assets. So, we looked elsewhere - to the ones who trained us, Cuy’val Dar. Alpha-17 trained closely with them, he’s fluent in Mando’a, taught us what he could. But the rest of us could only adapt what we learnt. That’s why you hear Jesse say mesh’la weirdly. It’s something that belongs to us now.”

“Like a patchwork.” Tal concluded her tangled thoughts.

“Exactly,” Fives nodded. “We stitched together scraps of what we were taught, shaped it into something we could hold onto. Something that felt ours. And yeah, it’s not perfect, and maybe it’s not even ‘real’ Mandalorian culture. But it’s what we’ve got.”

“That’s heavy,” she processed his words. “And kind of fucked up.”

Fives laughed again. “You’re not wrong, Red. But that’s the thing about culture, right? You make it your own. Even if it’s not what it used to be.”

“Meanwhile, I’ve grown so detached from it. Now if you ask about culture to me, this is my culture.” She knocked gently on the window beside her. “The scoundrels, the misfits, the outlaws. I guess… that’s where I found meaning. Belonging.”

There was a certain poetry to it, wasn’t there? To have been born into a culture so steeped in tradition only to lose her place in it. Or, perhaps, to have thrown it away. She didn’t mourn the loss as much as she thought she might. The people who kicked her out weren’t the same people she’d grown up idolising. But even so, what she’d built in its absence was no less real. The underworld wasn’t a culture in the traditional sense; it didn’t have sacred texts or ancestral songs. It was a patchwork of people pushed to the edges of society, where the only rule was survival and the only loyalty was earned. Yet, in its own way, it was home.

It reminded her of the subcultures she had participated in since she was younger, as well as those on other planets she had read about on the Holonet. Movements born out of resistance or sheer necessity. Punk bands from Nar Shaddaa screaming their defiance against authority, street artists tagging on blank walls, slicers creating entire digital ecosystems in the margins of the galaxy. None of it was official. None of it would ever be celebrated in history holobooks. But it was real. And it belonged to the people who lived it.

That was the underworld - not just Coruscant’s, but the Galactic Underworld as a whole. A rebellion not against the Republic, the Separatists, or even the Mandalorians, but against irrelevance. Against being forgotten. Everyone down here had a story, whether they wanted to tell it or not. And in a twisted way, they all belonged to each other - misfits finding solace amongst misfits. Tal glanced at her reflection in the glass, the strobing neon lights from across the building made colourful fluid patterns over her face. “Guess that makes me part of a patchwork, too,” she murmured, more to herself than to Fives.

[commanderoceane]

Ahh... The two forbidden lovers dancing together.

This is my oc, Oceane Rem'aory, dancing with her secret lover and soldier, Fives ! If you want more lore you can dm me, ask me in the comments or check my instagram (link in my bio) !

They're looking at each others with so much love in the eyes... This is my relationship goal guys 😔

This drawing is inspired by Ekko and Powder scene in Arcane s2 btw 👀

[ariadnes-red-thread]

The Last Word: Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE: LOOKING TOO CLOSELY

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter [coming soon]

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Fives/OFC

Chapter Summary: Mal settles into the 501st, but running into a familiar face in a clone army is the last thing she expects

Chapter Warnings: Some swearing (mostly in mand'o), Mentions of Umbara/past trauma and past sexual situations

Chapter Word Count: 3.9k

Recommended Listening: Looking Too Closely by Fink

A/N: Whoops, so maybe by "Coming Soon", I meant 14 months later. Sorry, I was crippled by self-hatred, perfection paralysis, and fears of my own incompetence. I'll try to be more cool writer girl next time. Thanks to everyone who connected with Mal and with my writing, and reached out to remind me that this might be a story worth telling. I love and adore you forever.

Ao3

Taglist

“Welcome to the 501st.”

Rex extended his hand out to Mal. For the briefest moment, she stared at his gauntlet, decorated in blue and white. The gap between them felt lightyears apart, and she was almost surprised at how quickly her hand closed the space. Taking his hand, she turned her eyes up to meet his and smiled, trying to reflect the Captain’s own warmth back at him. Mal gripped his hand firmly as she tried to shut out the hundreds of soldiers marching around the 501st’s hangar. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her discomfort. This was an opportunity, and she was grateful for it. It just felt odd, like putting on someone else’s clothes. The size was right, but the fit was all wrong.

Calling it the 501st’s hangar wasn’t entirely true. In a day or so, this battalion - her battalion, Mal quickly reminded herself - would ship out, off to a different star system, and another troop would take over this space for their leave. But for now, it swarmed with blue and white troopers. This system was designed for convenience and space-saving, but it gave Mal, and all transfers, an advantage. She already knew where everything was, from the medical supplies to the fresher. Still, after a briefing on protocols (all of which she learned a long time ago), Rex insisted on giving her a tour.

As he led her through the stacks and pointed out where the medical supplies were being kept, Mal had a feeling he was trying to distract her and that her feeble efforts to mask her unease hadn’t gone far with the blonde clone. She wasn't surprised.

Mal spent most of her life taking care of other people. It had taken a long time for her to get used to the way the Wolfpack watched over her. But she smiled, realizing that all the ways they had helped her made her softer now, more ready to let someone else in. So she tried to relax as she followed Rex, letting him point out where the extra gauze was stored, which fresher to use, and where to find the ration bars if she needed a meal.

Despite herself, Mal soon found herself feeling almost at home. Wolffe was right. Rex was the best. She watched as he would stop occasionally to check in with a passing soldier.  He would slide an arm over their shoulder or rest a hand on the pauldron. Sometimes the check-in would be wordless, just a nod between the two men. Sometimes, Rex would mumble a bit of mando’a, and his brother would smile. Just as quickly, his attention would be back on her. There were a couple of moments when she thought she might have seen a shadow pass over his face as his eyes lingered on a soldier for a moment longer or as he scanned the crowd, looking for someone he couldn’t find. She might have imagined them, though, because, in the next breath, he would turn back to her with a charming grin and point out where someone named Jesse had hidden more snacks.

As Mal peered over his shoulder while he rifled through a med-pack and showed her the simple, familiar contents, the tension started to leave her shoulders, and a wave of ease settled onto her brow. There was comfort in the sameness. And comfort made Mal curious.

“So, who am I working with?” She turned her attention from the med-packs back to the throngs of troopers scattered across the platform.

Rex followed her gaze. With battlefield precision, he scanned the crowd, searching out his medic. The Captain spied his target in split seconds.

“Oi, Kix!” Rex’s voice boomed over the thunder of boots on durasteel.

At least two dozen men jumped to attention as their commanding officer’s call echoed off the soaring walls of the vast space. There was a clattering of dedlanite as a trooper dropped a container of DC15Ss. Across the bay, a clone with a medical sigil on his shoulder peeled off from a group of soldiers. A collective sigh went up through the troopers as they each realized it wasn’t them who was being summoned by their CO.

The medic, Kix, jogged across the hangar to where Mal and Rex were standing with only the lightest sense of urgency. Mal eyed the medic as he got closer. Crux was clinical and quiet, a man of science born from science. Their only heated battles (recently anyways) came when he felt like she was acting on her gut rather than evidence. Kix didn’t appear to be cut from the same cloth. His helmet was tucked under his arm, and she could see how brightly he smiled as he threw greetings and quips over his shoulder at brothers who whistled and cat-called as he ran by. His appearance was as bold as his crossing, with hair closely shaved into intricate lighting bolt patterns and an Aurebeseh tattoo on the left side of his scalp. When he got close enough, Mal could finally make out the writing, ‘The only good droid is a dead droid’. Mal couldn’t help the smile on her face. It was a sentiment she could get behind. The 501st medic came to a halt next to Rex.

“This is Kix.” Rex clapped the medic on the shoulder. “You’ll report to him. There’s the CMO Coric somewhere too but you’ll meet him later. Kix here is the head medic for Torrent Company and the most dedicated medic I’ve ever met. We’re lucky to have him.”

“Aw shucks, Captain.” Kix laughed at Rex. He shifted slightly under Rex’s grasp, just a little further from the Captain. “Nice to meet you…”

He held out a gauntleted hand as he waited for a name.

“Mal.”

“Nice to meet you, Mal.”

Rex watched for a moment before he began to shift from foot to foot. He wasn’t a man who sat still for long, Mal noticed. She wondered if he’d always been like that or if this came from being burdened with so many responsibilities. Wolffe was the same way, his attention jumping from task to task, somehow always simultaneously present and attentive, but still somewhere else.

“I’ve got a meeting with the generals.” Rex finally said as he clapped his gloved palms together. “Kix, you mind helpin’ her get settled?”

“On it, sir.” The medic replied, brightly.

“Thank you, Captain.” Mal turned to Rex. "I feel very settled in."

"Wolffe wouldn't have let me live it down otherwise." He said, waving away her gratitude.

“Come on, I’m starving. Let’s go to the mess.” Kix motioned for Mal to follow him, already spinning on his heel. “You can meet some of the men.”

“Good luck.” Rex cheekily yelled after them.

“I can handle the 501st,” Mal called back over her shoulder, “I put up with the 104th for years.”

Rex laughed and nodded as though she won a hand of sabacc. With a small salute, he turned in the opposite direction and disappeared into the gears of the GAR.

“He’s just being dramatic.” Kix rolled his eyes as Mal caught up to him. “The boys are all good fun.”

She fell into step beside the clone as Kix started to make his way down the long durasteel hallway to the mess. Mal lost track of time while Rex was showing her around, but it must have been getting close to dinner because most of the other clones were starting to head in the same direction.

“You get the full tour?” Kix raised an eyebrow as he flashed a knowing eyebrow.

“Captain Rex was very thorough,” Mal smiled back, instantly at ease with the small gift of an inside joke.

Mal watched the medic out of the corner of her eye as they walked. He nodded to every soldier that passed, but the ones with decorated armor got a verbal greeting or a pat on the shoulder.

“How long have you been with the 501st?” Mal asked, curious about her new CO. 

It had taken a long time for her and Crux to warm up to each other. They started at the same time, joining the decimated 104th as it was rebuilding. Crux wasn’t thrilled to be serving with a civilian, and Mal had her own grudge, which was no fault of Crux’s. She knew it was irrational to dislike him for not being Tye, but she couldn’t help it. Still, once they stopped yelling at each other, they found that they worked well together. Crux’s strength was in his analysis and his textbook memory. Mal’s came from her quick thinking, calm under pressure, and her well-trained gut instincts. They came at problems from different routes, but almost always ended up at the same answer. Another ache passed through her as she realized their last mission working together would be just that. For now anyways, she tried to reassure herself.

“Just after Teth. Got assigned to Rex after that disaster, and he’s been grumpy about it ever since.” Kix flashed a cheeky smile at Captain Rex’s expense. “I’ll be honest, this is the first time we’ve had a civilian medic.”

Mal shrugged. It wasn’t surprising. There weren’t many civilians in the GAR, and even fewer were medics. The government official that helped her at the recruitment office had tried to talk her out of signing up in at least fifteen different ways as she was filling out the dataforms. 

“How about you?” Kix asked, “How long have you been with the 104th?”

“I joined after Abregato,” Mal answered. It wasn’t a lie.

“Hmm, I remember that one.” Kix frowned as he rubbed the back of his neck with a gloved palm. “I helped take care of Wolffe and the other two when they got back. Commander Tano still talks about it sometimes. Rough stuff. Glad that was before your time.”

Mal had heard a lot about Commander Tano, and even seen her from a distance on the Venator a few times. The Togruta Jedi padawan was hard to miss and liked to visit General Plo when she could. Boost, Sinker, and Wolffe spoke about her in hushed, grateful tones. Mal supposed that she did too. It wasn’t surprising, given that the whole of the 104th would have been wiped out if not for Commander Tano. Mal knew exactly to whom she owed her friends’ lives.

“You must have started with Crux, then.”

Mal looked back at the clone to find him watching her with a glance that was trying to appear more casual than it was. He must have seen something in her face change at the mention of Abregado. The clones in the 501st were good at distraction, Mal was starting to notice, but she was grateful for the change in subject.

“You know Crux?” Mal tried to match the Kix’s bright tone.

“Yeah, we went through medic training together,” Kix said. “Crux and I shipped out after Geonosis. Both the 501st and the 104th had hard times of it. Trained with Tye, the first CMO for the 104th, too, but he would have been before your time.”

Mal’s spine stiffened at his name.

A flash of a smile.

“You deserve to be happy.”

“Yeah,” Mal agreed, even as her heart clenched. “Before my time.”

“Heya, Kix.”

A clone with a large Republic cog in the middle of his helmet fell into step beside Kix. He elbowed his friend as his helmet tilted towards Mal. She could feel his eyes as they looked her up and down before he spied the medical sigil on the shoulder of her jumpsuit.

“Rex finally get someone to replace you?” The clone elbowed Kix again.

“You’d be dead without me,” Kix replied without missing a beat. “Mal, meet Jesse.”

“Hi!” Even through the modulator, the man’s greeting was warm.

The clone named Jesse stripped his helmet from his head. He tucked it under his arm as he flashed Mal a sideways smile. The cog that had decorated his helmet matched a tattoo that covered most of the upper half of his face, spanning from just under his left eye to the top of his clean-shaven head. His smile stretched across his face, bringing a glint to his eyes and wrinkling the edge of the cog.

“Nice to meet you.” Mal couldn’t help but smile back. “Nice tattoo.”

“You like it? I lost a game of sabacc to Hardcase, but I’ve grown attached.” Jesse ran a hand over his clean scalp as he grinned a little wider. “Spotchka may have been involved.”

“It suits you.”

It did. The clone had an animated face, his expression written all over it, and the tattoo emphasized every look. Mal imagined he wasn’t very good at sabacc.

“I like her.” Jesse turned to Kix with an air of grievance. “You never compliment me.”

“She doesn’t know you yet.” Kix chuckled.

“You’re just mad you’re not the prettiest medic in the 501st anymore.” Jesse snapped back.

Mal winced at the comment. She had a feeling Jesse was just kidding and that the joke was more at Kix’s expense than hers, but it was irritating all the same. Mal had never met a clone who thought less of her expertise because she was a woman. Still, there were plenty of civilian mechanics and medics who did. Any other day, the comment would probably have rolled off her. Instead, Mal thought of the clone from the night before. Would he think less of her if she ever had to treat him? Would he trust her? She quickly pushed that thought aside. No point in considering it. In an army of a billion clones, that wasn’t something she would ever have to worry about.

“Hard to compete with Kix.” Mal quickly spoke.

Just like that, the worry was gone, and Jesse was reaching around Kix to slap her on the back.

“I like you,” He let out a belly laugh as he repeated his approval.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t make me regret introducing you two already.” Kix rolled his eyes before they suddenly flashed.

Mal followed his look down the hallway. Just ahead, two troopers walked with their helmets pressed close together like they were strategizing. One was dressed in clone trooper armor, and the other wore the unmistakable kit of an ARC trooper. His kama swayed around his hips as he walked, arm over the shoulder of the other trooper. They seemed to catch Kix’s attention.

“Now, these two, you definitely need to know. Gotta watch them closely.” Kix spoke, his voice raised and playful. “They spend more time in the medbay than the rest of the battalion combined.”

They stopped and turned at Kix’s words, the sound of mocking modulated laughter coming from their helmets. Kix and Jesse paused with them, forming a small crowd in the busy hallway, like rocks in a river.

“This is Mal, our new medic from the 104th.” Kix gestured.

The clone troopers pulled their buckets from their heads. The first man smiled sweetly, a contrast to the single teardrop that decorated the lower lid of his left eye. Mal barely registered him, though. She was too busy gaping at his friend. The second man flashed a knowing, familiar grin. Even without the temple tattoo, Mal would have recognized him anywhere.

Fives.

The first thing Fives saw as he rounded the corner into the mess hall was Jesse’s face. His vod immediately looked annoyed and that put an extra spring in Fives’ step. Nothing like the sheer pleasure of irritating Jesse without even having to put in the effort.

“Ah osik, I bet Tup 5 credits you’d miss roll call.”  The lieutenant frowned at Fives over two steaming paper cups of caf.  

“Come on, Jess.” Fives grinned at his older brother. “You know me better than that.” 

Fives picked up the two cups before he turned, seamlessly slipping the drinks out from under his vod's nose. Jesse leapt up and yelped but, short of leaping over the table, there was no stopping Fives.

He kept moving down the hall, practically gliding, as Jesse’s swears faded behind him. He hummed, sipping on the black caf that Jesse had poured for himself, and savoring each jolt to his taste buds. Fives meandered his way through the maze of the base, nodding to brothers that greeted him. Faces, armor, and haircuts were all distinct. He recognized them all but most of the names escaped him. It was becoming harder and harder to keep track. There were so many, and they came and went all too quickly. It made him feel old in a way that an eleven year old probably shouldn’t. Was it eleven? Or was it twelve now?, he wondered. Who could keep track of decanting days anymore? That was Echo’s job and, without his twin, he wasn’t ever in the celebrating mood. Finally, Fives slipped into one of the main supply rooms, where he paused before a large supply shelf. It was pressed up against the durasteel and tucked in the back of the dark storage space. 

“Hey, Tup. You there?” Fives called.

“Roger, roger.” Tup called back.

The long-haired clone popped his head over the edge of the fourth shelf, about eight feet off of the floor. He perched there for a moment, chin resting on his hand as he smiled down at Fives. Fives grinned back up at his vod. Tup found the empty shelf the first day after the Umbara deployment, and he dragged a mattress up there to turn it into a getaway. Fives didn’t ask why he wanted one and Tup didn’t volunteer the information. Instead, Fives just helped him redirect several blankets and a mattress from shipping to an “ARC training mission” and, in a comical heist that involved General Skywalker nearly catching them, assisted Tup in smuggling the large bedding into the supply room.

“So, how was the night, vod?” Tup winked.

“A gentleman never tells,” Fives smirked up at his brother.

“Well, luckily, you’ve never been a gentleman.” Tup laughed as he swung down from the shelf, landing gracefully beside Fives.

“Hey! I brought you caf and everything.” Fives held out the second cup to Tup, who took it without hesitation.

“Ah yes, three creams. Just how Kix takes it.” Tup chortled as he sipped on the warm liquid.

Fives smiled back at the younger clone. Losing Echo left a hole in his heart that he knew would never be filled, and it had been a long time since he had felt a connection with one of his brothers like that. Tup was different though. He reminded him of Echo in some ways. He was quietly smart. A little nerdy. But he could still merk a Seppie in seconds and without hesitation. He was clever, more clever than most people realized. Fives was still impressed with the plan Tup came up with to capture General Krell. While he knew he could never replace his twin and he wasn’t looking to try, he felt a little more whole lately when Tup was around.

“Now, come on vod.” Tup threw his other arm around Fives, “Tell me about the night.”

He filled Tup in on a few of the details while they made the walk to roll-call. He skipped the feeling that she had given him when he made her laugh or the way he wished someone would bottle up her scent. Instead, he talked about the other stuff, like how great her tits were and how hot the sex had been. Tup dutifully listened to all of it with a small smile on his face. 

They made it to roll-call right on time. Jesse glared at Fives over a fresh cup of caf. Fives gave his fuming vod a wave just as Rex called them to attention. The Captain marched down the line, inspecting his soldiers. He paused in front of Fives.

“Nice to see you made it back,” Rex muttered, cocking an eyebrow at the ARC.

“No idea what you’re talkin’ about, Sir,” Fives smirked at his old friend.

Rex let out a familiar sigh of exasperation as he shook his head and continued back down the line.

It was Fives' least favorite kind of day. Drills, strategy meetings, and more drills. The drills drove him crazy. It was all pretend. There was no room to be creative or stakes to make the shineys take it seriously. It seemed like they were getting sloppier and sloppier, and nothing he said would get through to them until the blaster fire was real. The strategy meetings weren’t bad, but it was all a lot of talk and pretend. He knew it was important. Fives got that. But there was never a day that he didn’t want to be out there, in the fight, instead of planetside doing drills.

“We’re gonna have to reconsider how we’re using our resources holding Felucia,” Tup was still thinking about their last meeting as the day wound down and they made their way to the mess. Fives was only half-listening, having had his fill of strategy talk for the day, but Tup kept going, his enthusiasm obvious though his modulator. “Focusing on hyperspace lanes instead of the planet itself could help us protect the whole system. We keep fighting these high-cost, low reward battles on the planet’s surface.”

“S’not a bad idea.” Fives heard enough that he looked his vod up and down.

“It’s a great idea.” Tup looked back at him and Fives knew, even through the helmet, exactly the teasing look his vod was giving him. “Don’t you run to Rex and steal it.”

Fives snorted and wrapped an arm around Tup’s shoulders.

“I would never dream-” Fives started to protest before a voice rose up behind them.

“… these two, you definitely need to know. They spend more time in the med bay than the rest of the battalion combined.”

Fives barked out a laugh. Tup joined him as he tilted his helmet at Fives. He rolled his eyes at Tup and knew, in the same way that Tup knew what expression he was making; Tup was rolling his eyes too. They paused their walk and turned towards Kix's voice.

He was glad he had his helmet on. Standing there, walking with his vode, was the woman from this morning. Her form was now hidden behind a civilian medic jumpsuit, and her long red curls were pulled back away from her face, tied back into a low bun, but he knew her in moments. 

He knew the light in her eyes as she laughed at Kix’s words. He recognized the smile that danced on those soft lips. He knew the smattering of freckles he could map out on her nose and her cheeks. He knew the way her skin would feel if he were to dig his fingers into those hips, barely hidden by the bulky jumpsuit. Maker, he knew the way she smelled still and could taste it in the air. Or maybe that was just him and the way she lingered on his skin.

Pull it together, Fives. He warned himself. His heart wouldn’t slow, though. He couldn’t believe his luck as he took in the blue markings on her jumpsuit. She was here, and she was theirs. 

“This is Mal, our new civilian medic transfer from the 104th.” 

Fives barely heard Kix as he stripped the bucket from his head. He waited for Mal to squeal, to laugh, for the joy to spark in her eyes like it had last night.

“This is Tup.” His heart threatened to beat out of his chest as Kix droned on, “And this is Fives, our resident ARC.”

“And resident pain in the ass,” Jesse added loudly.

Fives ignored Jesse as he pressed his lips together in a knowing smile. She knows, you di’kut, he wanted to shout, but Mal spoke first. 

“Nice to meet you.”

[hellfiresky]

Fives with kids!!!!!! This was such a cosy read, vod!!! I love how Fives is so gentle with Kore (and Jesse, Echo, Hardcase cameo was gold). You’re really handling this delicate matter perfectly, Zest!

Can’t wait for the next chapter! (ALSO I LOVE KORE SO MUCH 😭😭😭)

Trouble in Paradise Headspace

Entry to @clonexocweek - 02.11.25: Quality Time | Event Masterlist

↤ Prev | Part 2 of 5 | Next ↦

Summary: On a really boring Taungsday, Eurus suddenly went missing. While Jenne and Siaris go out on a frantic search for their resident Twi'lek, Kore notices the door to the body is absent of any toddler lock. She then meets Fives. Fives is nice. Tags & Warnings: inaccurate portrayal of dissociative identity disorder, in-system relationship (alter x alter), implied multiship/polycule within the system and between them and Fives (minus Kore for obvious reasons), babysitting, just having fun!, Kore meets the Torrent boys, fluff, comfort no hurt, pillow talk Pairing: Fives × OC with Dissociative Identity Disorder Word Count: 6.4k A/N: Another disclaimer before you start; in-system relationship is pretty much real based on my tumblr surf through irl DID experience (I love this post so much, the DID part of tumblr gives me the chance to learn a lot). Anyway, whether you're singles or plurals, maintaining healthy relationship(s) is important (as it's supposed to be)! It's okay if it's a little wobbly, all that matters is the support and encouragement and promise for growth. Enjoy this one!

𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

— Outside with the Cuties - Frankie Cosmos [X]

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S MISSING?!”

“It means exactly as it is.”

“AND WHY ARE YOU SO CALM ABOUT THIS?”

“I am aware that reacting emotionally loud, instead of thinking of a probable and plausible answer to this sort of problem, is completely unnecessary. Unlike you.”

Siaris stands his ground sharing the same level of concern, though in a more collected manner, something Jenne isn't in the first moments of finding out. Even as the calmest figure in the system, Jenne can still see the way his blue forehead creases deeply and mouth upturns in distress.

Her shoulders drop. “You're right,” she sucks in a breath, “I'm sorry.”

“Deep breaths, Jenne,” the Chiss mutters vacantly, “We should find her.”

Sighing harshly and pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand while the other grasping his hips, Siaris slowly becomes less collected than he is, which drives Jenne to actually suspect something more between him and the missing Twi'lek.

“You have any idea where she's gone?” she asks.

Underneath the mild weather, Siaris merely turns his body towards the sparse forest in the landscape which leads to a rocky crevice and an unknown, avoided path that stretches deeper into the mountains.

Jenne bristles, horrified. “What are you doing, Eurus?” she breathes, glancing to the side to see a helpless expression now latches onto Siaris’ face that he no longer bothers to hide. “How did you know?”

“I asked the little one.”

They slowly turn back towards the foyer of their barrierless house, where the little girl is tucked away into the corner of the plush green couch clutching one of the throw pillows to her chest.

Siaris cups his hands around his mouth. “Kore, would you please join us here for a moment?”

The girl instantly gets to her feet and takes off running in their direction, a good fifteen meters or so. Her arms thrown up in request, Siaris gently picks her up and settles her on his hip. “Is something wrong, Ari?” she inquires softly.

“Unfortunately, yes.” The Chiss brushes away fray strands of curly black hair from the girl’s cobalt blue eyes. “You see, Eurus is missing, and you are the last person to see her. You saw her go into the mountain pass. Jenne and I have to find her. Are you certain that's where she's gone?”

Kore nods her head and moves to hide her face into his neck. Siaris' neutral countenance falls at the innocent show of sympathy, and his grip on her tightens.

“I'm scared for Eurus,” the girl murmurs.

Siaris sighs and sweeps a hand down the back of her head. “I know, sweet girl. I fear for her too.”

Jenne turns away from the sympathetic display and thoughtfully sets her gaze into the mountain pass. The forest is absent of wild bushes so the crack in the rocky cliffs is visible from behind the treeline, the very spot they're at as of now.

It's where the unknown lies, the darkest moments in her life, the ones that incited neverending nightmares each time she closed her eyes at night. Memories she tucked away into the depths of the mountains she, in all the few goodness that ever happened in her life, would never, ever revisit.

So what made Eurus go there? Stupid Eurus.

“We should have enough time to find her,” Jenne announces quietly, “The body won't wake for several hours. I made sure to call in sick for Eurus.”

Siaris puts Kore down onto her feet. “If everything's clear, we must go now.”

Jenne once again notices the anxious infliction in his tone – to hurry, to quickly find their missing friend.

She reaches out and grabs his hand. “Hey. It's gonna be okay.” She offers a small, reassuring smile, though considering his unaccustomed helpless state, the kind gesture might as well be meaningless. “Eurus can take care of herself, she won't be hurt,” she says.

“She might be!” Siaris exclaims, his outburst surprises Jenne. “The mountain pass is a place we should never go to in the first place! It's where everything our mental defenses cannot contain!”

“I know whatever krayt spit there is in the mountain pass!” Jenne seethes.

Siaris looks down, scarlet eyes dimming in shame of his outburst. Jenne shakes her head, pulling him in further and gingerly places her hands on the sides of his face.

“Get yourself together,” she says firmly, reaching to card away the stray bluish hair that falls over his eyes in distress. “You're not helping us if you're like this. You said it yourself five minutes ago.”

Wordlessly, Siaris grasps her wrists, his touch gentle, and leans his forehead against hers. Both do what they do best together – breathing, following a familiar pattern to quench their frustrated embers down. Somewhere in the middle, Kore had slipped into the space between them and wrapped her arms around their hips as far as she could reach.

Jenne breaks away from the Chiss and kneels to level with the little one's height, doing her best to put on a smile, though her lips quiver on the way.

“Kore, me and Siaris are gonna find Eurus, okay? You're staying here until we come back. Do you understand me, kiddo?”

“Take this as a lesson, Kore,” Siaris adds, “If you want to go to places, you must tell us first. Understood?”

Kore nods to both, clutching her little fists to her chest. Jenne is fond of her, and she has theories on why the little girl turned up in their headspace, becoming her resident alter, their confidant, though she wouldn't say it out loud. Little Kore may be innocent, but due to the nature of all their overlapping memories, she's smarter than she looks, intellectually and emotionally.

Jenne pats the girl's hair softly. “We'll be right back.”

“With Eurus?”

“With Eurus,” Jenne nods, smiling down at her, though it feels more like to convince herself rather than otherwise. “In a bit, kiddo. Stay here where it's safe, okay?”

Kore is already bored.

The Bianva headspace is nothing but beautiful and peaceful. Like a little glimpse of natural paradise tucked into a pocket of a small valley. Mountains covered with dense forest there, rocky cliffs there, sparse forest there, pretty garden here, shimmering lake there. All that her eyes can see is safe, for both her and her friends.

She hasn't been in the headspace long. The first time she popped up next to Siaris' sleeping form, she'd known she was there with a purpose.

The headspace is her home, and so are her friends. Jenne, Eurus, Siaris. Especially Eurus. She hopes the other two will be able to find her, and escape altogether without being harmed.

But the headspace contains nothing but all there is.

Kore is very much aware about the spot they're living in. A modest apartment with whatever’s left family fortune got them out of mercy in one of many decent residence districts on the planet Coruscant, the capital of the Galactic Republic, the center of the galaxy. From the stories on how their day went, Kore is also aware of what they do to maintain the body and their lives altogether.

Jenne works in the morning at one of the cafeterias inside the Grand Army of the Republic headquarters. Lately Kore notices, looming over Jenne's shoulder within Siaris' watch, some clone troopers of the army and Jenne getting to know each other. Exchanging light banters and jokes. Kore decides they're okay. Their armor design is pretty cool and unique. Everybody's got different patterns!

After lunch, Eurus takes over the body, puts on some catchy makeup and hair into two twin braids resembling the feel of her lekku, and goes to work for one of the local fashion designers because she likes to create pretty things. Kore likes how Eurus acts with the body. The body is female, and Eurus makes them look pretty. Eurus is always attentive to their physical appearance like that, being mindful about ‘personal branding’ and stuff.

When her shift of the day is done, the body returns home again. They have dinner. Jenne cooks decently and her dishes are amazing. Home-cooked stuff if there have nothing else to do for the rest of the evening, takeouts if they need to hurry to get to Siaris' place for work.

Siaris' commlink pings a notification when his office needs him to be there for his uncanny expertise. He's a consultant, after all. He works for the police, and Kore thinks it's super duper cool. Sometimes he does his work remotely in the small study room of their apartment. Kore likes to watch him work. Siaris sometimes slows his progress a bit just so he can show what might interest Kore. He's so nice and kind like that.

And now, she's bored.

With all of them being gone, there's no one to speak to, or to accompany her, or to watch over her. Kore likes it better when she has company. Like she's not alone. She doesn't like being alone. Being alone makes her sad.

And bored.

Kore notices how the door that leads to body consciousness is unlocked. Maybe Jenne forgot to lock it. Siaris forgot to lock it because he was distraught. Maybe they trust her not to front when they're gone.

Well, she's glad they trust her. And she doesn't really wanna overstep the boundaries they've set for her. She understands fronting this early can be overwhelming.

Especially right now, since there's no one else in the safe zone of the headspace.

But if their overlapping memories serve her right, when asked, Kore can always subconsciously blame Jenne's daring nature.

She's bored now, anyway.

Fives hasn't got time to even shower merely minutes after being planetside. The mission that command put him in was barely tiresome since it only involved hours and hours of recon, so he's eager to take a short taxi ride to Jenne's apartment complex to check in on the system.

They've met several times like this now that he's lost count already. Jenne's snarky and loud personality is a bit more controlled. Eurus, however, keeps throwing harmless flirt efforts at him that one time it led to a strip sabacc game, though thankfully nobody's piece of clothing is completely taken off. Siaris is a charming guy. Reminds him a bit of Echo with his resourcefulness. Fives rarely meets the Chiss. It's always either Jenne or Eurus in the front.

The doorman nods curtly at him in greeting, already knowing who he is and who he's visiting. Fives strides through the lobby and reaches the entry panel so he can contact Jenne or whoever it is to buzz him in.

“Hellooooo?” their voice answers after seconds too long.

Fives chuckles lightly. “Hey, it's me. Mind buzzing me in?”

A beat of silence, before, “Who are you?”

Fives freezes. He takes a moment to register the voice. That's the body's voice, alright. But this time though, there's a bit of quietness and timidness in it. He shuffles on his feet, feeling awkward where he stands in the corner. He turns and cranes his neck over to find the lobby empty and there's no queue of people trying to use the entry panel as well, and he goes back to the thing.

“Um. Who are you?” he lowers his voice, “I'm a friend to Jenne.”

“I'm Jenne's friend too,” she replies timidly, “How did you meet her?”

Okay. So this is another alter. It clicks with Fives. There are four of them. Jenne, Eurus, and Siaris... so this has to be the other one. The kid one.

He clears his throat. “Well,” he says, starting to test the water as he tries to channel whatever it needs to talk to a child. “Jenne works at the place I work at, too.”

“Are you the one they called Fives?”

“That’s me.” He can't help but chuckle. “You’re, uh, Kore. Aren't you?”

“Mhm,” her adorable voice says.

With Kore being in the body at all, despite knowing that she isn't supposed to, Fives has a bad feeling about this.

“Is, is everyone else okay? I thought you were playing.”

“Everyone's gone,” Kore says, “Eurus is missing. Jenne and Ari went to look for her.”

Oh. Not good.

Not good at all.

“Okay, Kore.” Fives is already set to do whatever he may or can to help. “Since you've heard of me, I'm sure everyone has told you that I can be trusted. Can you, uh, please buzz me in so I can come up?”

Well, great. Kore might be unaware of how to buzz someone into their apartment. How long has she been in the body? How long have they been gone? Is anyone else at work asking around in their absence? Fives hopes not, for the sake of their mental health.

“...Okay.”

He sighs in relief. “Thanks, ad’ika.”

In the elevator, Fives can't help his nervous tics. Tapping his fingers against his helmet rhythmically, tapping his foot.

“What the hell are they up to?”

Fives is doing all he can to not squeal and run over and pinch Jenne's– Kore's– the body's cheeks right away as their head peeks around the corner at the end of the tiny entryway. It's Jenne's face staring at him warily alright, but there's a glimmer of child innocence in their wide brown eyes, something that Fives himself is proud to identify instantly.

“Hello,” he says gently as he makes his way in slowly. The door slides close behind him. “My name is Fives. Nice to finally meet you, Kore.” His nervous tics kick in again, but he presses on, “I don't wanna scare you. I would never want to. Is it okay if I come in further, and maybe sit on your couch?”

Kore nods timidly, her position unmoving. Fives redoubles his effort not to storm in and pinch those cheeks. “It's okay. Come on in,” she says, and Fives can finally drop his slow and deliberate à la ARC measures.

“So how did you know about me?” he asks curiously as he starts unclasping his top armor.

Kore settles down on the couch. “Siaris told me about you first,” she says, watching him stacking his double-sided pauldrons into a neat pile on the floor, “He mentioned your name and told me I can trust you. He said you're a friend to all of us.”

Fives smiles softly. “All of you are my friends too,” he says, mentally thanking Siaris for that vouch. He looks at Kore, raising an eyebrow. “But we've never met before because you're not supposed to be in the body, are you?”

Kore looks down at her hands on her lap, picking on her fingernails, something Fives notices the others don’t do. Then it must be Kore’s only quirk. His smile widens at this revelation.

“They never let me,” she says quietly, almost timidly, “I was thinking it's gonna be scary. It feels weird.”

“I'm sure it is,” Fives nods in sympathy. He finishes putting the last pieces of his top armor away, keeping everything below the hip on, and carefully joins her at the couch. “The body is supposed to be Jenne’s, and you're a kid,” he suggests, “Must be feeling tall, right?”

Kore nods, her lips pouting childishly. “It's weird.”

Fives reaches over and rubs her shoulder comfortingly. “It's okay, you'll get used to it,” he consoles, actually meaning it. Kore brightens at the gesture, her smile appearing instantly and her brown eyes gleam. Fives smiles back. He glances at the chrono above the holoscreen. “Are you hungry?”

Kore nods. “Kinda. Can we eat?”

Fives is already thinking of borrowing Jenne's purse. “Yeah, of course,” he grins coyly at the thought and how the system's host would react upon finding out. “What do you wanna eat?”

Kore shrugs again. “I dunno.” She puts on a comical thinking face, something that makes Fives laugh easily. Kore hums. “Jenne usually cooks, but we usually have takeouts before Siaris takes the body to go to work.”

Fives’ dark brows lift upon the yet disclosed information. “Siaris goes to work?” he asks in pure curiosity, reaching for the glass of water on the caf table he served himself earlier.

“Sometimes,” Kore mulls, “Only when he's called by his office. He works for the police.”

Fives does a double take. “He what now? CSF?” On Kore's lost expression, he goes on to further explain, “Coruscant Security Force. They're our police. But maybe Siaris is one of the natborn officers they have?”

“I dunno about that,” Kore cluelessly replies, “But sometimes he said something about the underworld.”

Holy mother of Yoda. Siaris works for the Coruscant Underworld Police.

Putting away his water, Fives’ jaw finally snaps close. “Okay, ad’ika.” He claps and rubs his hands together, quickly shifting into a more comfortable position on the couch. “You and me–” he wiggles his pointer finger back and forth between him and her “–we're gonna talk a lot. And you're gonna be spilling some beans, okay? Starting now.”

“Okay!” Kore exclaims cheerfully, clapping along, but her shoulders drop almost instantly, as if remembering something. Then, she declares, “But I'm hungry. Can we eat first?”

Walking down the CoCo District clad in their gray leave uniforms, Hardcase wildly swats his hands around onto his brothers to gain their attention. “Vode, look,” he completely ignores their annoyed grunts and nods towards Dex's Diner, “Is that Fives?”

Echo's eyes widen in recognition. “Dank farrik,” he mutters under his breath, already marching towards the double doors and stepping into the packed atmosphere of the diner. He considerably closes his distance as he gains onto his brother's table, his brothers following behind him, before calling out, “Fives?”

The ARC trooper snaps up to his twin's voice, eyes widening in surprise as he scans each and every single one of his usual company of brothers. Echo notices how the top part of his armors, including his pauldrons, is absent, yet he's still kitted up hips down complete with his kama. Fives' helmet, however, is worn by his lunch company that sits across him, braided sandy blond hair sprouting out from under the bucket and over her shoulder. She's kicking her legs in atmospheric enjoyment.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Fives demands defensively, as if just caught red-handed on a cheesy date.

“We just came by and saw you,” Echo replies, backhanding Hardcase in the stomach in a brotherly manner. His attention shifts to his lunch company. “Uh, who's this?”

Fives scowls, before mockingly sweeps off a piece of dry and noisily chews. “None of your business.”

Echo rolls his eyes.

“Hang on,” Jesse squints, subtly pointing at the unsuspecting woman. “Is this the girl you–”

“NO! Nope, no, no no no.” Fives scrubs his hands down his face, absolutely horrified. He's thankful that Kore has his helmet on to obscure her identity. “No. This is different. And I won't take any more questions from any of you, not even from the General himself if he somehow knew. You'd have to switch methods to get an answer out of me.”

Tup chuckles and goes to indulge Fives' hilariously defensive situation. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“I'd rather go with zero rations on a tenday campaign than indulging your stupid questions.”

Hardcase scoffs. “Asking who your lunch company is is stupid?”

“Yes, it's stupid. As stupid as you are. Now go away, I'm enjoying my leave.”

“Very rude, Fives, very rude.” Jesse, hands on hips, turns to face the helmeted woman. On the silly display, he can't help his own smile. “Why are you going out with him?” he asks.

There's a noise that emits a bit distorted due to the vocoder, and it takes a moment for Jesse to register it as a whine, a quite childish one. “He's not rude,” she rebuts quietly, “Fives is nice.”

Fives nods aggressively. “That’s right, I'm nice.” He jabs a finger at the group. “You are the ones being rude for interrupting our lunch.”

“He actually has a point,” Echo shrugs, throwing a subtle wink at his brother. His gaze momentarily sweeps over the table, several plates of partly eaten food that definitely would fill more than two people.

“You're eating all of these?” Tup asks before Echo could.

Fives purses his lips. “Actually we're finished. We're just talking now.”

Hardcase raises an eyebrow. “Really? Lots of leftovers, though.”

Fives huffs, crossing his arms. “Yeah, we're planning to bring it back to her apartment.”

“You can have it,” the woman suddenly offers.

Hardcase dramatically gasps, his mouth already watering. “Really?”

“Mhm!”

“I like her,” Jesse goes to high-five her. Accepting, she giggles, the jolly sound comes a bit odd thanks to the bucket's vocoder. He passes her a harmless wink, before smugly turning to a, surprisingly, neutral-faced Fives chewing on another piece of fries. “You’re not complaining? Not so snarky anymore, eh?” he teases.

“What she says goes, vod,” Fives rolls his eyes, unable to help his own wide, somehow proud, grin either. “Just go get the boxes yourselves and scoop in whatever you want.”

A walk in one of those artificial parks, an ice cream, a visit to an aquatic pet store, a share bucket of buttery bang-corn, a purchase of a colored stylus set, and a trip to a thrift store to get the cheapest civvie sweater and pants (because he didn't carry his overnight pack with him when coming over) later, Fives lets out a relieved groan when he stretches cracking his neck and back.

He'd like to say today's been quite productive. They ate, they had fun, and Kore is happy, occupied with the real-world activities and kept away from stressing over her friends… headmates.

Rex pinged him earlier for a revise on his report, which he finished quickly while Kore was getting creative at the small dining table with several sheets of flimsi they snatched from Siaris' study and the newly purchased colored stylus.

Fives has never been this relaxed in his whole life.

He turns to see the newly put up drawing Kore whipped up that she had his help to stick it to the food preserver with one of the cute magnets. It's a, well, kid drawing. Messy and… stick-y, but he can easily identify her diverse headmates with their corresponding colors of blue, yellow, and brown. They're all holding hands with the little Kore with curly dark hair and blue eyes, who stood at the end of their line. On her other side though, is a sticky figure of Fives himself, with his bronze skin and dark short hair and his white and blue clone trooper armor, and even the little Aurebesh for 5 on his temple!

Fives allows himself to sniffle dramatically, even though the actual tears are nonexistent.

Kore now is tucked away on the couch with their leftover buttery bang-corn, a blanket over her shoulders and eyes glued to the holoscreen. Fives put up one of those kid-friendly holomovies about a fish buir trying to find his missing ad.

Jesse just sent him an ARC-specific holodoc that even Rex was adamant to get Fives to actually read it through and through that the Captain himself attached a personal memo.

So now, he's stuck with work, still.

Doesn't matter though. Kore is safe and satiated. Even when the sun goes down, Fives guesses he can keep this up until morning.

Not an hour later, Kore is trembling. Fives had lowered the air conditioner temp earlier, but apparently it does nearly nothing to help the little one.

“Are you cold?” he asks, concerned.

“Can I hug you?” Kore looks up at him pleadingly, blanket reaching up to her neck. “Jenne cuddles with me when I'm cold.”

“I'm… not sure, ad’ika,” Fives hesitates, but eventually loosening up himself to the idea of cuddling for warmth. He grins mischievously. “I just got off work this noon and I haven't showered yet, so I stink. Wanna smell?” He tugs the collar of his blacks to her direction.

Kore giggles, kicking him in the shin to prevent him moving closer. “Ew, no!”

Fives laughs, ruffling her hair and retreating. “I'll shower first, then we'll snuggy, okay?”

“Okay!”

As much as he'd love to waste all the luxurious hot water and Jenne's much-better-than-GAR-issued soap, he's got an adiik whom he promised warm cuddles to. Not only that, but the guarantee of safety and on constant lookout for her wellbeing and comfort while her headmates are away.

At some point, Fives is concerned for her away headmates, but selfishly, he doesn't want Kore to go yet. He likes her quirky and cheerful upbringing. Something about interacting with her is healing something in him. Fives can't exactly explain what or why.

After shower, he throws on his newly purchased clothes, which colors and patterns Kore helped to choose. In all honesty, he didn't give a damn what color or pattern it was. He wanted to give Kore a choice. And that choice is a soft checkered pajama bottom and a knitted sweater which Kore has been so kind and considerate at all that she chose the closest shade available to 501st blue to match the mark of his armor.

Fives has allowed himself to sniffle dramatically today too many times for her sweetness.

Kore claps her hands when he gives her a twirl to display his sleepover outfit.

Fives puts on another children holomovie, this time it's about a kid being left at home all by himself and using his clever prank skills to ward away the intruders of his home. Knowing of the hour and that it's child bedtime, he purposefully leaves the holo on and makes it serve as a background noise as both of them settle in.

After Fives gains the permit to move closer because he's nice, Kore practically latches herself onto him like a powerful magnet. Eyes glued to the screen, she cuddles to his side with her head on his shoulder and his on top of hers, lying sideways with her head on his lap, plopping down between his legs with his arms around her midsection in an almost protective hold.

One thing he finds out about now is that Kore can't stay still for cuddles. That is, until her eyes are droopy and there are little whines of protest to herself in an attempt to stay awake. Not long after, with a slow, absentminded back rub Fives gives her, Kore stills on his chest, her soft breathing falling into an unmistakable pattern of finally being asleep.

The holomovie ends, and Fives switches the screen off. Still in their sitting position, Kore is settled on his chest and softly snoring. He wouldn't dare to nudge her to wake, but this position may be uncomfortable for her. Never mind him – he's used to sleeping in the middle of a warzone, anyway.

Once Kore lets out an inquiring noise, Fives rubs her arms and asks in a whisper, “Wanna move to the bed where it's comfier to sleep?”

Kore shakes her head, their sandy blond hair shifts against his sweater and gets messier in the process. “I like it here. Wanna lie down. Is it okay?” 

Fives is already shifting them around.

He smiles softly as he wordlessly prompts Kore to recline next to him. “Yeah, it's okay. Just go sleep,” he says when Kore snuggles her head into his chest. He gently runs a hand through her messy hair to tame it down. “When the others are back, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay,” she says in a small voice, already slipping in and out of slumber. “Good night, Fives.”

His heart melts, tightening his arms around her momentarily, and places a kiss on top of her head. “Good night, cuddle bug.”

Fives can't sleep yet.

Somewhere in the hour their sleeping position had shifted again. Now he's lying flat on his back, a plush pillow he stole from the bedroom behind his head, the system's body sleeping on top of his chest, out like a light, the blanket over them both. At the given opportunity of not having either of his arms pinned under their weight, Fives scrolls through his datapad to relieve himself of any remaining GAR demands.

This time, he tells Rex where he is and how he's unable to return to HQ until the next morning. They're on leave now, anyway. He can even sense Rex's confusion through the screen, the conceding comm reply from the Captain staring back at him before it blinks back to his report in the middle of editing. He might've broken one or two regulations by now, but nothing's more important than looking out for Jenne Bianva's system, especially when the big three have been spectacularly away for a long time.

Kore told him they've been gone since before lunch.

Fives is grateful he's here. Kore absolutely could use some company. He averts himself from thinking on how their day could've gone if his recon mission didn't end today, or if he ever came over at all.

Kore suddenly shifts with a tiny whine, about to come to consciousness. Fives puts his datapad away and goes to tenderly card his fingers through their hair. Eager and anxious to know about their headmates, he decides to go against his will to let Kore sleep again.

“Hey, cuddle bug,” he greets softly, tilting his head down and slipping fallen strands of hair behind her ears with a brush of his fingers. “Is everything okay?”

Kore whines, brown eyes peeking through droopy lids and thick eyelashes. “Fives?” she rasps, voice laced with confusion and sleep, still.

He lets out a chuckle. “Yep, still here,” he says, patting her back. “Are the others back yet?”

Her head flops back onto his chest, looking away from him and sighing deeply. Fives is rubbing her back to offer some comfort despite his same question being ignored not once but twice. Fives gathers she's collecting herself together, probably mulling over the fact their headspace remains empty as they speak.

“Is Siaris’ comm pinging?” she asks in a whisper.

“No. No request to come in,” Fives levels his voice with hers. He tries again, “Is everyone back yet?”

“Mhm.” Kore fiddles with a stray thread on Fives' sweater. “Today's a mayhem. Eurus went off road. Siaris is exhausted as heck. Everyone's exhausted. Last time I saw them before getting here, they're cuddling. I mean, good for them.”

Oh.

Oh wait.

Fives stiffens.

Oh.

“You're Jenne, aren't you.”

Jenne snorts. “I thought you figured that out already.”

Fives slowly, hesitantly pulls his arms away from around her, but isn't completely removing them off. “No, because I thought the last thing you'd want as your dying wish is to cuddle with me on your couch on Taungsday night.” He suddenly smirks, tightening his arms around her again teasingly and playfully burying his face into her hair. “Not hating me that much now, are ya?”

Jenne slaps his shoulder and slightly pushes him away, not that he budges. “Shut up,” she grumbles, though Fives can see her blushing since he'd brushed away her fallen hair earlier. He chuckles deeply, voice rumbling inside his chest and somehow sending Jenne to cuddle into him further.

“The others trust you. I see no reason not to,” she mumbles, “Especially Kore. Kiddo can't shut up about how funny and nice you are.”

“Just doing what I think I need to do,” Fives shrugs. He smirks down at her, though she hasn't looked up. “So, you still wanna cuddle, or?”

Jenne is silent for a moment before muttering under her breath, her voice whispery he almost can't catch it. “This is kinda nice,” she admits.

Fives swells with pride. “I wholeheartedly agree.”

Jenne snorts. “Because you never cuddle someone?”

“Because it's just nice.”

“It's nice because you're cuddling someone?”

“No, just you.” Jenne looks up questioningly at him, one eyebrow lifted. Fives catches himself, stammering, “I-I mean, all of you. Or I mean if you're not co-fronting, then maybe whoever is out in the driver seat.”

Jenne maintains her gaze, her chin stabbing into Fives' chest as she props her head up on it. “Very touching.”

Fives scowls playfully. “Hey, I'm trying to be inclusive.”

“And it's much appreciated, Fives,” she dismisses. Her sparkling brown eyes soften. “I mean it. Thank you.”

Fives smiles genuinely, rubbing her back for another moment. “Just doing the least I can do.”

“It's a lot for me. For us.” Jenne then shifts a bit to stretch her legs, climbing up a bit closer to Fives. She plops back down on him. His arms welcome her back. She frowns. “You know, to be honest, sometimes I forget this isn't my body too. It's theirs as well. Sometimes I slip up. Sometimes I'm too selfish. It's a bit hard.”

Fives' eyes soften. “I'm sure you'll get used to it,” he offers. Jenne looks away from him, but he decides he's having none of it. “Hey.” He lays a hand on her cheek and gently tilts her face towards him. Their eyes meet. Fives takes a deep breath. “You're a survivor. A fighter. You take that to your heart. You won't be here if you decided to give up a long time ago. They're here for you. They love you. And I'm here for you too, and I'll stay if you want me to. And don't black out on me, we're having a moment.”

Despite small pools of tears collecting beneath her eyelids, a corner of Jenne's lips lifts momentarily. “We’re having a moment?”

Fives shrugs, smiling smugly. “From my perspective.”

They stare into each other, basking in each other's warmth in their uncalculated proximity. Jenne blinks lazily. Fives has just recently noticed how thick their eyelashes are, and how the smallest tinge of pink graces their cheeks when they're sated. When their forehead is absent of any distressed crease and when their sparkling brown eyes don't possess a spark of playful annoyance, and when there's only peace in their countenance, Fives quietly takes in their demure beauty.

And when their lips finally meet, the shared touch is not with feverish passion. It's slow, delicate, and thoughtful. Just like how Fives wishes to be a gentle presence in their lives, always supporting, always mindful of his approach to make them content, at peace, and undisturbed.

And Jenne, out of all three of them yet – herself, Eurus, and Siaris – accepts him with a sheepish brush of her own to his lips. A brush becomes two, two becomes three. Their breaths mingle. Fives gingerly places his hand to the back of her head, thick strands of soft sandy blond hair slipping between his calloused fingers, and briefly deepens their kiss.

Once they pull away from each other and look into each other's eyes, there's so much emotion. Fives can practically maybe see everybody's gears turning inside their head. He allows himself a small, breathy chuckle. There's so much emotion in them, and among them is heartfelt appreciation and newfound adoration, and within his is endless support.

“So… you don't hate my guts at all, then?”

Jenne slaps his shoulder again. “Ass,” she hides her smile. And yet, her brown eyes sparkle. “I hate it when I have to repeat myself.”

Fives places a kiss on her cheek. “Yeah? Then say it.”

Jenne chuckles at his insistence and looks up at him. Their sparkling brown eyes are just so beautiful.

“I don't hate you,” she says, “I don't I ever could.”

“I don't hate you too,” Fives mutters in return, smiling cheekily afterwards. Hesitantly, as if just remembering, he takes a deep breath and asks, “Is everyone… okay with this?”

Jenne rolls her eyes. “Although we share the body, we're all separate entities. Do I sound like a Chiss to you right now? Our business is our own. They should be okay.” Aaand it's back. Fives chuckles. Jenne quirks up an eyebrow at him. “Feels weird, huh?”

Fives tries not to think about that at the moment, wanting to just enjoy her presence. “M’not sure, actually.”

“Yeah. That's why I never had a partner before.”

“Wait, really?”

Jenne scowls at his teasing tone. “I mean, romantic partner. Dating. Liking each other. Boyfriend and girlfriend or same genders, whatever you call it these days.” She rolls her eyes. “Who wants a mentally ill partner anyway?”

Fives visibly cringes. “Come on. You're not that bad,” he complains, hugging her tightly for comfort to the point she wheezes and has to push him away with another slap to the shoulder. He grins widely, but his tone turns serious as he says, “I mean your diagnosis. Your condition. You're coping, you're handling it. That's what matters.”

Jenne’s lips quirk up for a second, her expression grateful. “Thanks.”

They lay in each other's arms like that for another good hour, opening up and trading stories of what happened while everybody's… busy. Kore and Fives sightseeing in CoCo District (he doesn't leave out the fact that they were using her credits to purchase things, behind the reason of ‘keeping Kore happy and not fussy’) and Jenne and Siaris on a hike mission to find Eurus.

Jenne describes what their headspace looks like and explains which spot is where and what for, filling the blanks in the vague description Kore spilled a few hours ago. Turns out Siaris and Eurus are closer than even both of them had thought, and that new knowledge alone makes Fives feel he's in this… whatever this is… deep, deeper than he thought.

He can't wait to see what's next.

Now they lay together in silence, just being comfortable with each other's presence, before Fives has a notion to break it.

“...Can I kiss you again?”

Jenne scowls. “Not if we get to… that.”

Fives laughs loudly. “Who says I want that? I'm not in the mood either. I just got planetside today and I'm sleepy.” He pecks her on the nose. “I just like kissing you for the comfort of it.”

Leaning in once more, his lips capture hers with more tenderness in the new enlightenment. His shoulders feel lighter, as if whatever invisible burden has been lifted, and Jenne is kissing him back. It's the most he can receive for now, and he's appreciating every second of it.

“One thing I know about you, ARC Trooper Fives,” she mumbles into his lips, “is that you're an honest man, even behind all that plastoid shell.”

“Heh,” Fives smiles charmingly, his cheeks slightly flushed, “Sounds like me, alright.”

Taglist (Form): @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @filamentlights

A/N: There'll be a special entry for Free Space prompt (2/16), and it's gonna be a parody of one of those Wired's Autocomplete Interview! I need prompts from you readers; Google-style questions about DID. And throw in your questions if you're curious about Fives and each of the entire system (Jenne, Eurus, Siaris, Kore). So if you've got any, please put them in the comment section! Thanks 💖

[azure-cygni]

Part Five of 100Faces x100Clones Challenge Let's Goooo!!! @tealmisthams I couldn't bear to only draw one of the domino twins so have both Fives and Echo (and my oc Asa) in this cute lil interaction ^^💙✨!!

★RULES TO PARTICIPATE

★Clones I've Drawn: Rex, Sev, Fox, Tup

[leenathegreengirl]

💕💜A love for the ages! 💜💕

💕💜Tag List💜💕

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream @fiveofirstmuse @freesia-writes @heidnspeak @queenjiru @commanderfury @kyda-atshushi @deezlees @thebadbatchfan @aknightreaderr @justanotherdikutsimp

[jetii]

Good Graces

Chapter Two

Tags/Warnings: Fives being goofy, good old fashioned brotherly teasing, uh oh there's plot in this fic??

Chapter WC: 7,199

A/N: Tysm for the love on chapter one! I did a major restructuring on my taglist so if you're tagged in something you don't want to be, feel free to fill out the form, and I'll fix it next time.

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Senator Amidala's apartments are located in one of Theed's tallest buildings, on the highest floor available. The building is well-kept and decorated in the style that Naboo prefers, all ornate and gilded and luxurious. They're on the main floor of the apartment now, the Senator having excused herself with General Skywalker in tow for a brief meeting upstairs, leaving Fives, Rex, and the rest of the squad on the main floor. 

Jesse and Kix have taken up residence on the couches, and the others are scattered about the room, either seated or pacing, their attention on the windows. Fives leans against the wall near the stairwell, watching as the sun sinks low, bathing the sky in hues of gold, red, and orange.

It's been an uneventful day. The peace talks won’t begin for until tomorrow, and Senator Amidala had spent most of the afternoon engaged in meetings with the Queen and the senior leadership of Naboo’s parliament. General Skywalker had accompanied her. Fives has been at her side all day, with Rex and the others on patrol, and nothing's happened. It's been quiet.

Esmé had barely spared him a glance. She'd seemed content to keep her distance, sticking to the Senator's side, and Fives hadn't wanted to push his luck. So, he'd stayed away. The most he'd gotten was a second of eye contact when the Senator had excused herself to her meeting.

He's still reeling a bit from their earlier interaction. He'd been half-convinced he'd ruined any chance he had with Esmé until she'd opened her mouth and made that little comment. Now that he knows there's a sense of humor beneath all that indifference, he can't wait to see what other things he can coax out of her.

And it's only a matter of time, really. There's not much she can do to avoid him, and the longer they're forced to be together, the harder it will be for her to keep up the act. All he needs is an opening. One slip-up. A crack in her mask. That's all it will take.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to tonight. Maybe he could talk her into having a drink with him, get her to loosen up a little. He may have stumbled over his words like a complete idiot this morning, but he’s been working on his material all afternoon. Fives has a couple of good ones he can pull out, and they should get her laughing. If he can manage that, then it'll be smooth sailing from there.

"I'm bored," Jesse complains loudly, dropping his head onto the back of the couch and letting his limbs go limp. He stretches his legs out and kicks his boots up onto the coffee table.

"What else is new," Fives replies absently, his eyes still on the window. He can just make out a ship in the distance, a tiny black speck in the sky. One of the senators arriving late? A civilian? It's too far away to make out any details. He watches it for a moment longer and then looks away. Probably nothing. "You're always bored."

"Because there's never anything to do," Jesse grumbles.

"That's because we're on guard duty," Kix tells him.

"Guard duty is boring."

"Boring is good,” Tup says. He sits on the other end of the couch, his helmet resting in his lap, a cloth in his hand. "Boring means nothing's going wrong."

"And when nothing’s going wrong, everyone stays alive." Kix shrugs. "I'm not complaining."

Jesse groans dramatically. He lets his head roll to the side and stares at Fives, his brows furrowed. "Please tell me you're not going to spend all week moping because Esmé hates you."

"She doesn't hate me," Fives says, bristling a little. He's not moping. He's...planning. There's a difference. "She's just—"

"Unimpressed," Jesse cuts in.

"Disinterested," Kix offers.

"Indifferent," Tup suggests.

Fives' frown deepens. He looks between them and folds his arms across his chest. "Are you done?"

They're all silent for a moment.

Then Kix speaks up again.

"Icy."

Tup gasps, a delighted smile stretching across his face. "Icy is good."

Jesse points a finger at him and grins. "It is."

"She's not icy," Fives snaps.

They're laughing now, and the rest of the squad has started to join in. Even Rex has cracked a smile, though he seems to be trying to hide it as he looks over his datapad. Fives glares at all of them and turns away, his cheeks hot. He can't help the indignation that wells up inside of him, even though he knows they're just teasing.

"What?" Jesse asks, holding his hands up in surrender. "We’re just saying, if you're gonna spend the week trying to get her to like you, you're going to have a hard time warming her up."

"I hate you," Fives sighs. "All of you. I should've volunteered for the perimeter shift instead."

There's a noise from the stairwell, and Fives' head snaps around. Esmé stands at the top of the stairs, her gaze flicking over the gathered men before landing on him. Her expression is unreadable, her hands folded in front of her.

He straightens immediately, his spine going stiff, his mouth going dry.

Shit. How long has she been there? How much had she heard?

Esmé looks away from him and makes her way down the staircase, her steps measured and sure. The long flowing dress she was wearing before has been replaced with a set of form-fitting civilian clothes, the dark fabric clinging to her waist and legs. The vest she wears is long enough to reach her mid-thighs, but he can clearly see the blaster hanging from the holster on her belt. Her dark hair is pulled back, a few strands falling over her forehead, and her eyes are hard and alert as she sweeps the room, taking in the squad. She doesn't say a word.

The men watch her, all of them falling quiet as she walks into the center of the room, her boots barely making a sound against the polished stone. Her eyes are sharp and clear as she meets each trooper's gaze in turn.

She doesn't seem impressed, her gaze narrowing on the few that aren't in full kit, and her frown deepens as she takes note of Jesse's feet propped up on the coffee table. He quickly puts his feet down and sits up straight. She watches him a moment longer before moving on.

She's not happy. Not that he really expected her to be. If there's one thing Fives knows about Esmé, it's that she's protective of Senator Amidala, almost to the point of paranoia. He supposes he would be too, if he were in her position. Being responsible for someone's life isn't easy, especially when that someone has a habit of attracting trouble.

He can't even count the number of times Senator Amidala's been targeted by enemies both foreign and domestic. She's managed to evade capture nearly every time, with the help of the Jedi, but he can see how it would wear on a person after years of it. No wonder Esmé seems to have developed a stick up her ass. He's pretty sure it's the only thing holding her together.

Esmé stops beside him and folds her hands behind her back.

"Is the perimeter secure?" she asks.

"Yes, ma’am," Rex replies. If he looks uncomfortable under her scrutiny, he doesn't show it, his voice as professional and polite as ever. "My men have done a sweep of the building and surrounding area. No signs of hostiles, and no indication that anyone has been here besides the cleaning crew.”

Her shoulders relax slightly at the reassurance, her expression easing. She doesn't look pleased, per se, but she seems less likely to strangle someone. 

Her eyes flick back over to Fives and linger on him for a long moment. He straightens instinctively, his chest puffing out a little. Her brows rise slightly, her lips pursing, and then she's looking away.

"Good," Esmé says, nodding. "There are rooms upstairs if you wish to retire for the evening. They've already been prepared."

The men don't move. They exchange a few glances, and a few of them shift in place, but no one takes her up on the offer.

Esmé's gaze flicks over to Rex. She waits, her eyes searching his, and then tilts her head towards the staircase, her lips pursed. Rex seems to understand. He nods.

“Dinner will be served in three hours,” she continues, as if nothing happened. "The dining hall is through that door. There are bathrooms off the hallway to the left of the stairs. Do not enter the third floor. If you require anything, I or one of the other handmaidens will attend to you.”

Her voice is hard, commanding, and the men are quick to obey. A few of them nod, and the others murmur their agreements. Esmé doesn't waste another breath. She turns on her heel and heads towards the entryway, her boots clicking against the floor. She's halfway across the room when Fives speaks.

"Hey, wait," Fives calls after her.

It's impulsive. A spur-of-the-moment decision, one he regrets the second the words leave his mouth.

Esmé pauses, her entire body tensing, and he can feel his brothers around him freeze. They all stare at him, their mouths agape, eyes wide. He sees Rex out of the corner of his eye, his head shaking furiously, and Jesse has a wide, manic grin stretched across his face.

"Yes?"

"I... Uh..." Fives clears his throat. He can't seem to remember the line he'd practiced in the mirror a hundred times before. Or the other dozen lines he'd planned for if that didn't work. He swallows. "Where are you headed?”

She tilts her head. "Why do you care?"

"I'm... charged with the safety of everyone in this building, ma'am," he says. It's a lie, technically. His job is only to keep the Senator safe, not the others, but it's close enough. He hopes she'll accept it. "It's my job."

She glances at him over her shoulder, her lips pursed. He's expecting her to call him out on his lie, to tell him to shove it, but she doesn't. Instead, she studies him for a moment, her eyes narrowed. Her gaze flickers briefly to his brothers and then back again.

"And?" Esmé asks.

"And," Fives says, lifting his chin, "I don't mean to be rude, ma'am, but if you're going outside, I'm going to have to come with you. Security protocol."

It's a bold move, and he can tell the others think so too. Rex gives him a warning glare, and Kix opens his mouth, likely to say something to shut him up. Fives ignores them. He just holds Esmé's gaze, waiting for an answer.

She turns around fully and stares at him, her jaw working. Her eyes are fixed on his, and for the first time he can see the flecks of color among the hazel. He's so caught up in the details that he nearly misses the moment she decides, her expression going from carefully blank to irritated.

Then she sighs.

He feels his brothers collectively sigh along with her.

"Fine.”

Fives blinks.

"Really?" he asks. He glances over at Rex, who's got a hand covering his face. When Rex notices his stare, he shakes his head, his eyes wide, and Fives looks away.

"I suppose," she says, and he's almost certain there's a trace of amusement in her voice. "But be warned. I'm not one for idle conversation."

"Oh. Well, uh... That's alright.” He's quick to straighten, adjusting his belt and tugging at the collar of his blacks. "Me neither."

Another lie. Fives can talk for days if he wants to, and he knows she probably knows that, too. But as it is, she's agreeing to go outside with him, and he's not about to give her a reason to back out now. So if she wants silence, he can give her silence. Probably.

"If you insist," Esmé says. She inclines her head, beckoning him closer, and his legs move without his input. "Come on. I have places to be."

She gives him a once over, and then turns away, walking towards the entrance. Fives tears his eyes away from the sway of her hips and glances back towards the others. He shrugs helplessly. Rex shakes his head again. Tup gives him a thumbs up.

He can't resist a grin.

This was easier than he'd thought.

She's going to eat her words. By the end of the night, he'll have her laughing and chatting with him like they're old friends. Or, well. He's not expecting miracles. But a friendly conversation wouldn't be so bad, would it? Maybe some banter. A tease. Something. He's not picky.

"Don’t wait up,” he whispers, his hand cupping the side of his mouth. He gives the room a two-fingered salute and turns away, jogging after Esmé.

He can feel his brothers watching him, can practically hear the whispers and jokes they'll be making as soon as he's out of earshot, but he can't bring himself to care. It's not every day he gets a shot at a girl like this. And now that she's decided he's worth her time, he's not about to give up.

Esmé grabs a canvas bag from a hook on the wall and activates the door panel, stepping out into the hallway beyond. He follows her without a word, and she doesn't so much as look at him as the doors slide closed.

They don't speak as she leads him down the hall and into the turbolift, both of them standing as far away from each other as possible. Fives tries not to fidget, his fingers tapping against his thigh, his gaze fixed on the numbers slowly decreasing above the door. She doesn't look at him, and it's all he can do to not look at her.

She's still as pretty as the first time he'd seen her, though she looks a little more human in the dull light of the elevator, less like the goddess he'd been imagining. But that just makes her real, and that, in turn, makes him want her all the more.

He sneaks a glance at her, his eyes trailing down her body. The black pants cling to her legs and hips, the long-sleeve shirt underneath her vest doing the same. Her hair's messy, but it suits her, framing her face and drawing his attention to the curve of her neck. She's beautiful, and it's all he can do not to stare.

Fives tears his gaze away and fixes it on the wall, and his heart jumps to his throat as he sees the reflection of her watching him closely. She looks him up and down, her brow raised, and then looks away, her arms folded over her chest.

He forces himself to look away, his palms going sweaty. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

He'd been expecting the silence. Had thought it might even be nice.

He hadn't counted on being so hyper aware of her.

He'd wanted to impress her. Show her that he's more than just some clone trooper. And he'd thought the best way to do that was by being as casual and confident as possible. Now he's starting to think that was a mistake. She might not mind the silence, but he's going to lose his mind.

He has to say something, though he’s not sure what. He knows what he wants to say, what he's dying to say, but he also knows that it would be a terrible idea. He could ask her questions about herself, but he doubts she would be forthcoming. He could make a joke, or tell her a funny story, but he's not sure she would appreciate it. He could just stay silent, but that's a little too much like giving up, and Fives has never been good at that.

It’s the longest turbo lift ride of his life.

He's still trying to figure out what to say when the doors finally open. The lobby is empty, save for a lone security droid stationed near the main entrance. Esmé nods at it as she steps off the lift, and it waves back, its photoreceptors fixed on her and ignoring Fives completely. She heads towards the exit, her steps sure and confident, and Fives is quick to follow.

The air is cool as they step outside, moving past the troopers on either side of the doorway and into the courtyard beyond. It's a pleasant evening, the sky clear and darkening rapidly, the moon already visible overhead. It's a little colder than usual, a light breeze ruffling his hair, and he takes a deep breath, savoring the fresh air.

As soon as they pass the gate, Esmé turns left and walks briskly towards the city center, not even sparing him a second glance, and he’s forced to jog to catch up with her. 

By the time he reaches her side, she's already made her way halfway down the block, and the crowds of people milling about part for her like she's the Queen of Naboo herself. He's half-surprised they don't salute.

"I can defend myself," she announces, her voice firm.

Fives jumps. He turns to face her, surprised, and sees her eyes dart toward him before looking forward again. She doesn't slow down.

"Excuse me?" he asks, baffled.

She sighs.

"I said, I can defend myself," she repeats, enunciating every word as if speaking to a child. Her tone is sharp, impatient, and it's a clear reminder of just how much she resents having him tag along. "I don't need you."

"That's not the—"

"Don't insult my intelligence, please."

Fives bites back a snide remark and swallows hard, his throat bobbing. He can't help but be a bit offended, though. He hadn't even had the chance to finish his sentence. What is it about him that makes her so angry? What is it that he's doing wrong? He hasn't even said anything.

He has to remind himself that this isn't a personal attack. That she's just being cautious and defensive. It's not his fault she's so prickly.

Probably.

It's not a good look for him, regardless. He has to work harder to get her to warm up to him, or else this week is going to be torture.

"I have no doubt that you can, ma'am," he says. He keeps his voice light, careful not to show his irritation. He can play the nice guy. If that's what it takes. "You seem very capable."

"Then why did you follow me?"

"I..."

He stops. He hadn't actually thought about why. Not beyond his desire to spend time with her. But now that she's asking him, he can't figure out what to say. 

She’s right; it isn’t his job to look after her. His job is to stay in the apartment and keep an eye on things, not go on strolls around the city center. If General Skywalker had caught him, he would have had his head, and that was putting it lightly.

He has his moments of impulsivity and recklessness, but this isn't the same as jumping out of a moving speeder or challenging a fellow clone to a drinking contest. This is...stupid. There's no excuse, and no real explanation other than the fact that he's drawn to her, and that he just doesn't want to let her go.

But she's still watching him, waiting for an answer, and he can't tell her that. So he shrugs.

"It’s my job, ma’am. And it's not just yourself that you need to worry about," he says, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop himself. "People are desperate these days, and the city is packed with the peace talks. The last thing you need is a bounty hunter or some lowlife thug recognizing you as Senator Amidala's handmaiden. They'll do anything to get their hands on her, and they'll take anyone hostage to achieve that."

He's not exaggerating, not really. The GAR has a list of bounty hunters, mercenaries, and criminals who have taken an interest in Senator Amidala. Most of them are dead or incarcerated, but the few who remain have a long history of violence. There's a reason they assigned a whole squad to the Senator's security detail on top of the NSFG.

It’s also a very convenient excuse.

Esmé looks unconvinced, her mouth twisting slightly. She seems to know exactly what he's trying to do, and he can't help but feel a bit embarrassed at being caught.

But then, just when he's certain she's going to turn around and walk away, she sighs. Her pace slows until she's walking alongside him instead of two feet ahead. She doesn't look happy about it, but at least she's not storming away anymore. He'll take it.

"Is it that hard to believe?" he asks finally, unable to hold his tongue any longer.

Esmé glances at him out of the corner of her eye, her lips pursed. She takes a breath and looks away.

"No," she says, and then, quietly, "I know the lengths people will go to."

He's not sure what to make of her response, so he decides not to ask. They continue on in silence, this one much less tense than before, the sun sinking lower and lower, the sky shifting to the colors of a bruise. He can hear the sound of music growing louder the closer they get to the center of the city, and then a cacophony of noise.

They enter the market district, a large section of the city devoted to small shops and open stalls, the vendors calling out to passersby and hawking their wares. It's crowded, the streets packed with people, and Esmé weaves between them with practiced ease, leading the way.

He's not really sure what he's meant to do here. He can't exactly keep an eye on her and the crowd at the same time, and so he settles for following after her, keeping his gaze fixed on her figure, his body angled towards her and his hand resting on his blaster. 

The noise of the crowd is almost overwhelming, the conversations, the laughter, and the music drowning out everything else, and his focus narrows in on Esmé. He can't lose sight of her, not in a place like this, where a person could disappear within seconds.

Esmé stops, and he almost bumps into her again, but he manages to stop himself in time.

"What is it, ma'am?" he asks, peering over her shoulder, his eyes scanning the crowd for any threats. There are none, at least that he can see, but he keeps his hand on his blaster anyway.

"I'm just browsing," she says with a huff. She gestures to the stall in front of her. "You don't have to hover over me."

"I'm not hovering," he tells her, but when he shifts, his pauldron bumps against her shoulder. He flushes. "Okay, maybe I am. But—"

"I know," she sighs. "I heard you the first time."

"Right."

He watches her mouth twist into a frown, and he bites his tongue. This isn't how he wanted things to go. He should be charming, he should be funny, he should be making her laugh and smile, not making her more annoyed. She's not interested, and it's clear that his attempts are falling flat. His shoulders slump, his chin dipping towards his chest, and he takes a step back.

Maybe this is a lost cause. Maybe it's a mistake.

He's not going to stop trying, not yet, but...

Maybe Jesse was right. Maybe this is a hopeless endeavor.

"If you're going to stay, at least make yourself useful," she says. "Help me carry things."

"Oh," he says, a little startled. He hadn't expected her to actually ask for his help. "I mean, yes, of course."

He reaches out and takes the canvas bag from her. Their fingers brush against each other for the second time today, and it’s just as electric as the first. His heart leaps in his chest, his cheeks warming, and he can't help the smile that comes to his face. But then the moment is gone, and Esmé is pulling her hand away, moving from one stall to the next, leaving him to trail after her like a lost puppy.

The crowd shifts, the music changes, and Esmé stops every once in a while, inspecting the wares laid out in front of her. She's a quiet shopper, never stopping long enough for the vendor to engage her, finding what she needs efficiently and paying quickly. It's methodical. Practiced. And yet, Fives can see her eyes light up with interest whenever she finds something that catches her eye. There's a certain sort of appreciation to the way she runs her fingers over the fabrics, her lips parting slightly, her expression softening. It's the same look she had when she was cleaning his helmet.

She doesn't ask his opinion. He's not even sure if she's noticed that he's still with her, but she doesn't tell him to leave, so he stays, the canvas bag getting heavier and heavier with each new purchase.

Esmé's purchases seem endless, but practical. Meat, vegetables, a comically large loaf of bread, herbs, and even some sweets. She buys enough food for a whole squad, and he can't help but wonder why she would need so much. Is she shopping for the Senator's entourage? It's certainly possible, and yet... he's not sure. Esmé doesn't strike him as the type of person to waste time shopping for someone else.

He watches her reach out and touch a basket full of produce, her fingers tracing the edge of a plump, orange-skinned fruit. Her mouth is twisted into a slight frown, her brow furrowed, and he can see the cogs turning in her head as she stares down at the fruit.

"Look for the ones with the most color," she instructs him, leaning forward and grabbing one from the pile. She holds it up to the light of the lantern beside them and squints. "If you press on them with your thumb, they should be firm, but not hard. If it's too soft, it's gone bad."

Fives doesn't know what to say, so he just nods and mimics her, testing a few fruit for firmness. He doesn't have the slightest clue what he's doing, or how to tell which fruits are good and which aren't. He can tell that the ones he's picked are a little bit soft, and a lot green, and so he puts them back and tries again.

"Do you do this often, ma'am?" he asks. His hands move automatically, his eyes on the fruit and not her. "Coming down here, shopping for yourself."

"Call me Esmé," she mutters as she picks another fruit. He blinks in surprise, and he can’t hide the grin that spreads across his face. That’s progress. "And not since before Padmé was elected, no. We have staff who handle the household needs."

"Right."

He finds a good fruit, and he holds it up to the light, squinting at it. It seems fine, but he's not really sure what he's doing. Esmé plucks it from his hand and inspects it, her eyes narrowed, and she puts it into the bag.

"Why'd you want to come down here, then?" he asks. "Seems like a lot of work."

"Padmé wanted something special for tonight. Something Naboo. I offered to cook," Esmé explains, her voice a little softer. She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'm not usually in charge of cooking, but the chef is ill, and there wasn't anyone else I trust to do it right.”

Fives snorts. "Can't be that hard, can it? It's just food."

She shoots him an irritated look that would’ve made him shrink back in the past. But now, after everything, it only makes him smile wider. He's getting under her skin, and she's starting to talk to him. He'll take the small victories.

"Don't underestimate food," she warns him, and she shakes the fruit at him like a weapon, punctuating her words. "Good food is an art. Bad food is a travesty."

"Alright, alright," he concedes, holding his hands up in surrender. A chuckle escapes him, and he has to bite his lip to keep it in. "I get it. You know what you're doing. I won't question you again, Esmé. I swear.”

She huffs, but the corner of her mouth lifts in the beginnings of a smile. She turns away, hiding her face from him, and continues to inspect the fruit. She moves on from the orange ones and starts testing the blue ones.

He can't seem to wipe the grin off his face. It's not perfect. In fact, it's nowhere near the smooth, suave approach he's always imagined, and she's still mostly ignoring him, but it's...something. He can see it now, the little signs that let him know that she's not entirely opposed to him, even if she's a little irritated by his presence. And, well, he can deal with a little irritation if it means getting a smile out of her.

He can work with this.

Fives reaches for one of the blue fruits, and she smacks his hand away.

"Don't pick anymore," she grumbles. "You clearly don't know what you're doing."

"Oh, ouch," he laughs, shaking his hand out. It doesn't hurt, not really, but she hit him hard enough to sting. "You could be a little nicer, you know."

"You could be a little more useful," she retorts, and this time, her lip does curl up, and he knows, without a doubt, that she's teasing him.

"I'm carrying your stuff!"

"Yes, you are," she agrees, her tone mocking. She doesn't look at him, and instead moves down the line, inspecting the wares.

"Hey, now," Fives calls, following her, his steps quick. "I'm carrying your bag and doing my job, and I'm letting you hit me. I deserve some gratitude, don't I?"

“Gratitude,” she scoffs. She looks over her shoulder at him, her brows raised. "How about this: you be a good little trooper and go find some cheese, and I won't hit you again."

Fives gapes at her, his mouth dropping open, his brows rising high on his forehead. The audacity. The absolute gall. He's never met a woman like her, not in his entire life. He's not even sure he's ever heard a woman speak like that.

He should probably be angry, and a part of him is, but it's quickly eclipsed by the sheer delight he feels, the giddy, fluttery sensation that fills his chest. He can't help the breathless laugh that bubbles out of him.

Fives grins, slow and wide, and takes a step closer to her.

"Ma'am," he says as he leans forward to meet her gaze, "it would be my honor."

Esmé stares at him a moment longer, and then, just when he thinks he's done it, she rolls her eyes.

"I thought I told you not to call me ma'am," she mutters, the amusement shining through despite her best efforts to hide it. She gives him a shove with two palms pressed against his pauldron, and he stumbles back a step. “Go. Try not to fall on your face again while you're looking."

"Yes, ma'am," he says cheerfully. Fives ignores the glare she sends him, his smile growing, and he steps out of her reach before she can hit him again. He can't remember the last time he felt this...good. Happy. "I'll be back soon, then."

He heads in the direction she'd pointed and leaves her standing among the vendors. The crowd parts for him as he makes his way through the marketplace, and he can't quite manage to wipe the smile off his face, despite the looks he gets from a few civilians. He's still riding high, his chest warm and tight with anticipation, the fluttery sensation in his gut refusing to go away.

He can't believe it. She's actually talking to him. Even more than that, she's teasing him. Flirting with him, a little, if he's not imagining it. And he's pretty sure he isn't.

He can't wait to tell the others. They're not going to believe it.

The sun is starting to set, and the sky is a deep purple-red, the clouds painted with hues of pink. The music is getting louder, and the street lamps are beginning to flicker on, casting long shadows and warm light over the square. He can smell roasting meat, and his stomach growls. He hasn't eaten anything all day, and the scents around him are almost overwhelming. Maybe Esmé will let him try whatever she's making.

She's nowhere in sight. He can't even see her distinctive bun in the sea of people. He scans the crowd for a few moments before turning back to the shops. She's probably not going to let him try her cooking anyway.

He's not sure how long he spends looking for the cheese. Esmé didn't give him any details on what kind she wants or where he's meant to get it. For all he knows, there could be fifty different kinds of cheese on this planet. He wanders the market for a while, peeking into the stalls and storefronts, hoping to catch a glimpse of some.

He finally manages to locate the cheese stall, and he’s just holding up a block of some kind of sharp, white cheese when Esmé approaches him. She's walking quickly, her head down, and her hands are curled into tight fists.

The smile slips off his face when he notices the grim look on hers. Her hand wraps around his elbow without stopping, and he's forced to abandon his prize as she pulls him into a nearby alleyway and out of sight.

Fives goes without protest, his eyes scanning the crowd. Esmé presses him against the wall, and her hand reaches for her blaster, her finger resting lightly on the trigger. He follows her lead, his own blaster slipping into his palm.

She waits, her gaze locked on the crowd, and he's forced to wait with her, his heart pounding in his chest. He takes in the clear tension in the set of her jaw and the tightness of her shoulders, and a cold dread washes over him.

There's something wrong.

Fives swallows.

They stand in silence for a long moment, the noise of the market washing over them. Esmé is preternaturally still, her breathing slow and steady. She's still holding his arm in a vice grip, and he can't seem to look away from her.

She doesn't look afraid. Her eyes are sharp and focused, her brows pulled low over her eyes, and her lips are pursed in a firm line. He can tell that she's searching the crowd, her gaze flicking from person to person, and he has to wonder how often she does this. How many times has she been chased, or cornered, or ambushed? How often does she put herself in danger for the Senator?

The answer comes to him, and it's not a comforting one.

Fives peers around her and scans the crowd himself. There's nothing immediately threatening, but that does little to reassure him. There are too many civilians, too many places for someone to hide, and a thousand possible threats. The hair on the back of his neck stands up, his fingers twitching on his blaster, and he tenses, preparing for a fight.

Her hand shifts from his elbow to his shoulder. She pushes him back, pressing him into the wall, and leans in close, her breath warm on his neck. His throat bobs as she steps between his legs, her chest almost touching his. She's a warm weight against him, solid and unmoving, and she smells like the flowers in the courtyard.

Fives can feel his heart rate pick up, and it's not just from the impending danger.

She's so close. Too close.

"Bounty hunter,” she murmurs. Her voice is a low rumble in his ear, and her lips brush his jaw as she speaks. He stiffens. "Three meters, black clothes, gray scarf. Been following me for half a block. No sign of an accomplice."

The words are like a bucket of ice water. His mind clears instantly, and his eyes flick up, searching the crowd for the figure matching her description.

There are rules when dealing with bounty hunters. They're dangerous, unpredictable, and most of them have a kill count that could rival a battalion of troopers. There are a few that the GAR actively works with, a handful that are tolerable, but the others are a danger to everyone and everything around them. If one is here, that means they're after the Senator, or the Queen, or both.

Rex had prepared them for this possibility, but Fives can't say he was expecting it to actually happen.

In the crowd, a figure moves, slow and cautious, a head swiveling side-to-side, looking for something. They're wearing a thick black cloak and a hood, a scarf obscuring their face, and it's impossible to tell if they're human or alien. A hand reaches up and adjusts the hood, and then the figure moves on. 

The hunter isn't looking for a fight. They're looking for a target.

They're looking for Esmé.

Fives doesn't hesitate. He grabs her arms and turns, covering her body with his as he presses her back against the wall, shielding her from view. She doesn't make a sound, but he can feel her tense against him, her fingers digging into his shoulder.

She's so warm, and the soft curves of her body mold to him easily, her cheek brushing against his, her hair tickling his nose. She's small compared to him, his bulk almost completely hiding her, and her chest rises and falls rapidly against his, her heart pounding under his palm.

"Do you have a weapon?" he whispers.

"Blaster," she murmurs back, her lips moving against his jaw. "And a few other things. But it's too crowded. Don't want to start a panic."

He feels his brows raise. "What kind of other things?"

Her fingers dig into the spot where his shoulder meets his neck, and he winces. "Shut up."

There's a long pause as the bounty hunter makes their way down the street. Fives listens closely to the sound of their footsteps, keeping his head turned towards the marketplace, his hand resting on his blaster. When he can't hear them anymore, he slowly lifts his head and peers over the crowd, searching for the figure. He finds them a few moments later, their hood pulled low, their head angled toward the ground.

He keeps his eyes fixed on them as they continue on their path, and Esmé shifts, her head tilting back to rest against the wall, her chin brushing his cheek. She's a lot calmer than he'd expected. Most civilians would be screaming by now, but not her.

"How did you notice him?"

"His steps," she replies. Her voice is a quiet rumble against his skin, and her breath ghosts across his neck, making him shiver. "They're too measured. Too quiet. Everyone else is in a hurry."

"Clever girl," he says softly.

"Are you always this annoying?"

"No. Usually I'm worse."

She sighs, her hand shifting on his shoulder. He can feel her eyes on him, but he refuses to look. If he does, he's going to lose his train of thought, and they're not safe yet. He needs to keep his head, and she's far too distracting.

Fives clears his throat and focuses on the hunter. He watches them walk the length of the market and then disappear into the crowd, lost from view. He keeps his eyes on the space they'd been, waiting to see if they'll come back.

He counts to ten. Then thirty. And when the hunter doesn't reappear, he finally lets out a breath and relaxes. Esmé moves immediately, shoving him away and ducking out from under his arm, her eyes fixed on the entrance. She's still got her blaster drawn, her finger ready to pull the trigger. He holsters his own weapon and reaches for her, placing his hand on her forearm.

"It's alright," he says quietly. He gives her a gentle nudge and steps forward. "We can go now."

She doesn't seem to hear him. Her focus is fixed on the crowd, her body coiled tight like a spring, and she's not blinking, her eyes narrowed. She's not even breathing, and her knuckles are white around her blaster.

He's seen this look before. Too many times.

She's not a soldier, but he can see the training in her stance, the way her eyes sweep the crowd, her muscles flexing beneath his fingers.

She's not a soldier, but she knows how to handle a blaster, and how to defend herself, and she knows exactly what to do when a bounty hunter is on her tail. She's not afraid, even if she should be. It's almost familiar.

It doesn't make sense. She's a handmaiden. The most she should have to do is serve the Senator a cup of tea or fix her hair. She shouldn't be able to tell a bounty hunter from the crowd. She shouldn't have any reason to draw her blaster. She shouldn't be so used to this.

Something doesn't add up.

Esmé's grip relaxes slightly, and she lowers her weapon, her shoulders slumping. She takes a deep breath and leans back, her head tilted towards him, but she doesn't turn around.

He lets his hand slip from her arm, and he doesn't miss the way she shivers when his fingers graze her wrist. Fives takes a step closer, his chest brushing against her back, and her shoulders rise with another inhale. Her head turns slightly, her ear close enough that he can lean down and whisper, his breath tickling the shell of her ear.

"Hey," he murmurs. "You alright?"

She doesn't answer him.

He sighs. He's not surprised. She's been ignoring him all day. He's not sure why he thought she would be any different now.

Fives takes a step back and puts some space between them, folding his arms over his chest. He waits for her to speak, or to move, or do anything, but she stays where she is, her eyes fixed on the crowd, her mouth pressed into a firm line.

He's not really sure what to say, and so he decides not to say anything at all. If she wants to talk to him, she will. And if not... well, then he'll just have to try again.

After a few more minutes, Esmé finally sighs and holsters her blaster. She turns around and looks at him. Her face is as blank as ever, but there's something in her eyes, a hint of unease that wasn't there before. She nods once.

“We need to get back,” she says quietly, her mouth set in a grim line. "Now."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @kindalonleystars @totallyunidentified @lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @etod @puppetscenario @umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano @burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @chocolatewastelandtriumph @hobbititties @mere-bear @thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @notslaybabes @ayyyy-le-simp @mali-777 @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @heavenseed76 @bunny7567 @lostqueenofegypt @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus @heidnspeak @gottalovehistory @mrcaptainrex @maniacalbooper @burningnerdchild @julli-bee @moonychicky @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @webslinger-holland @marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @cw80831 @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish @floofyroro @veralii

[lonewolflupe]

I'm not sure if she even realises what she does to me. Yes, I'm an ARC trooper; I am able to focus on the mission ahead. But if tonight's mission is to be subtle about.. us, we're both failing. Miserably. I know Rex will turn a blind eye, but this place is swamped, and I feel like there's eyes on us everywhere. Oh Maker, is she really gonna kiss me right here, in public? It's- I'm- I-

Please continue, ma'am; don't sto-oooooh I didn't know they were gonna take holographs at the theme night?!? This is not good, she's gonna get in so much troubl- WAIT, the holographer, is that- Kriff kriff kriff, I'm gonna be in so, so much trouble.

A little prequel to this and this

CT-9075 and the mysterious holographer aren't done yet with GAR Goth Night! The ploth thickens; but don't forget to read the ALT texts to stay updated! 👀

A massive thank you to @eclec-tech for writing the amazing ALT texts <3

Taglist (read to join): @diamondluna2 @aknightreaderr @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @thecoffeelorian @star-wars-lycanwing-bat @bixlasagna @dreamie411 @heidnspeak @earlgreyci

GAR Goth Night tags: @ghostymarni @eobe @wings-and-beskargam @foxwithadarkside @eclec-tech @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @fiveminutetrash @feral-ferrule @ladylucksrogue @nika6q @skellymom @vimse @sunshinesdaydream @noblelightfighter @returnofthepineapple @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @nocturius8015ficore @sazzujazzu @blackseafoam @thora-sniper @thepinkwool @gargothnightzine

[queen-of-mandalore]

The Dead Do Not Sleep - Fives x OFC Fix-It

Rating: M

Main Characters: Fives, Original Female Character, Rex, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Cody, Fox, Echo, Original Jedi Character

Main Ship: Fives x Original Female Character

Other ships: Rexsoka, Codywan, Foxiyo

Tags: eventual fix-it, someone lives/not everyone dies, multiple POVs, side plots, angst, smut, mutual pining, slow burn, unplanned pregnancy, graphic depictions of violence, graphic descriptions of war and death, character death, references to suggested rape/non-con, grief/loss, angst with a happy ending

When Kat stands in the ruins of what was once her home, her family gone and her people lost, she makes a decision which will change her life forever - and perhaps the very fate of the galaxy.

Driven by the need to avenge her family’s deaths at the hands of the Separatists, Kat volunteers for the GAR and finds herself in the 501st legion where she meets ARC trooper Fives. The two of them soon grow close but with the galaxy on the edge of collapsing and sinister plots threatening to destroy all they know, can there be any hope for a happy ending? 

Relationships and loyalties are tested as the truth of the Clone Wars is revealed and a race against time begins to prevent Darth Sidious’ plans from reaching their deadly fruition.

Read Chapter One on AO3 now

Updating every Wednesday & Saturday 💜

@snips2112 @tealmisthams @whyamismall @julijuli77

[rex-meshla]

Rex-Meshla's Masterlist ✨

Shadows of the Force

Captain Rex x F!OC

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Steel Meets Silk

ARC Commander Colt x F!OC

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Clone Drabbles

Commander Wolffe

Brat Summer

Testing Limits

Testing Limits —Part 2 (NSFW)

ARC Commander Colt

Take What You Need (NSFW)

Commander Fox

An Unusual Assignment

Captain Howzer

Stolen Nights and Shared Dreams

[not-really-a-writer]

aww so sweet 🥹

Everlore

Fives x Female OC

Warnings: None yet! Just fluffy but be prepared for the worst to come.

Listening Recommendations: Gold Rush by Taylor Swift

Chapter One: Gold Rush

"I don't like a gold rush, I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush, I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch, everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you." -Gold Rush, T.S.

The typically clinical quiet of the military hospital on Coruscant is alive with giggles and shushes. Clusters of care attendants and nurses whisper behind charts and grin, teeth flashing.

 I and the other battle-forged medics trapped at the hospital for routine retraining try not to let our eyes roll. The cause for all this commotion is clear. The 501st is on planet. No battalion has as much swagger, as much pull and sway with the ladies as the 501st. Full of arrogant, charming, heavy-flirts who are known to have a good time when on leave, the 501st has all the available medical staff preening, ready for one single month of fun while they platoon is on Leave.

 “I wonder who’s gonna get the most attention this time.” Mathia comments over the stack of folders we’re sorting through.

 “Hm. Rex? Or is he old news now?” I reply.

 She shakes her head full of golden ringlets, “I hear he’s too strict now. What about Hardcase?” 

I snort in response, “There’s a joke in there somewhere.” 

We laugh. Both Mathia and I had just been sent to retraining after we had completed our three years of one-off medic missions. We would go to different planets with a different platoon each time for solo missions to learn the art of providing medical assitance in battle. Now that we are tried and tested, its time to await our official battalion assignments. So here at the hospital, in Coruscant’s shiny city, we wait for our new orders. The waiting is grueling, a constant wonder of which battalion’s boys we will be patching up next. Atleast there’s always the busy work. Retraining on old routines, sorting paperwork, inventory stocking. 

A gaggle of nurses come by to drop off a new stack of folders to sort.

“Did you hear? The 501st is in town!” A young woman, barely old enough to volunteer for the hospital service nearly swoons as she says it. 

Mathia takes her cue to dig for more information- “Oh expecting anyone special?” The girls all giggle and a brave one comes forward.

 “Fives!”

They erupt into more giggles and a blush blows across each of their faces. 

I wish I could hold back my shock, but I breathe a quiet, “Fives?” They all nod and hurry off, laughter lingering behind them. Fives is the most head strong and flirtatious of the group.

He’s the 501st’s golden boy.

 I should know.

 I do my best not to let my own face heat in a blush. 

A bell rings above us, and I give a sigh of relief. It’s time to leave. In our medic's uniforms, Mathia and I gather our things and make for the streets.

 “Wanna get a bite to eat?” She asks, knowing my answer as my stomach rumbles. I try to let the cool air clear my thoughts.

 I had met Fives a year ago when I filled in as their medic on a month long mission. It had been instant chemistry. Magnetic. His smile, his charm, his humor. I fed off his energy, and he fed off mine. We became quick friends, and the flirting was endless. Casual and comfortable and low stakes. Until… After the mission was completed, and the boys were all celebrating at camp before being shipped out the next morning, in a moment of pure unadulterated joy, he and I kissed. Just a kiss, but it’s stuck with me. I catch myself thinking of the feel of his lips on mine during cold, late or lonely nights. I hadn’t seen him in the year since, he and his platoon having shipped out before I even woke up the next day. 

“Hello? Are you even listening to me?” Mathia snaps her fingers in my face as we walk. I go to respond when suddenly I run headfirst into something much more solid than myself and end up on my ass on the cold ground. 

“Look out there! You okay, sweetheart?” 

A warm and strong  hand helps me up and I dust myself off before looking up.

 “Yeah sorry I…”

 I stop. 

His eyes sparkle in the lights of the street and it's like I’ve traveled back in time.

 “I didn’t see you there.” I finish. He probably doesn’t even remember me. My traitorous heart is skipping beat after beat and I feel my face flush.

“Fives?”

“Sophie? I.. I had no idea you would be here. It’s been a long time.”

At first it seems like he’s going to sweep me into a hug, which a year ago would have been expected. Then, instead, he places a hand on my elbow and the heat is searing.

“It’s so good to see you.” 

 “It’s good to see you too, Fives.” I say. 

Mathia’s eyes fly between the two of us and a look of understanding flashes in her face. She nearly vibrates as she says, “We were just going to get some food. You hungry?” 

I elbow her hard and Fives laughs.

 That laugh. I swear for a moment I’m back in that camp, on that night. Fire roaring, embers floating up into stars. He and I dancing around and around, laughing until we can’t breathe and until… I blink. 

“You’re welcome to join us.” I say, and I really mean it. 

He stretches his arm behind him and scratches the back of his head. “I just got on planet and we have meetings, but I appreciate the offer.”

 I nod, trying not to let disappointment creep in, and give him a little wave as Mathia and I turn to go. I feel so stupid. Why did I invite him? I’m nothing more than a distant name he remembered when he saw my face.

 He catches my wrist. 

“But.” He almost stutters. “Caf? With me, tomorrow? Maybe you can show me the best spot in town? My treat.” 

Shocked, I smile. 

“Sure. Meet you here in the morning.” Is all I can manage, and then I turn on my heels and nearly drag Mathia behind me up the street. 

—

Minutes later we sit at a booth in our favorite restaurant and she slams her hands on the table, rattling the silverware.

 “What. Was. That”.

“Nothing.” I reply. And truly it was just that- nothing. So, I tell her the story. 

We knew each other for a month. We were friends. Maybe even just friends of convenience. The kiss was an accident, and he likely didn’t remember it. I was shocked he even remembered me.

For all the fun we had poked at the nurses this morning for their fawning and squealing, Mathia tops them in her high pitched response. I shush her. 

“It’s just caf. Just to catch up I’m sure.” 

She grins wickedly at me and shakes her head. “Do you how many people would absolutely die just for that wrist grab he did? My  knees nearly buckled for you. He’s the one everyone’s talking about, and he wants to get caf with you!”

I shrug my shoulders. “I just don’t think it’s going to be what you’re imagining. Besides, I don’t like a gold rush. All eyes are on him, so one wrong move and all eyes are on me, and I’m not about that.”

Mathia nods and continues to hype herself up, “Since when have you ever been shy? You weren’t shy when you kissed him at that war camp!” 

“He kissed me. Not the other way around.”

I define, and she flutters her feet under her chair.

“Even better!” 

I go back to my small, Republic sanctioned apartment and don’t even bother to flick on the lights before I crash into my bed. Fives is here, on planet. I ran into him, literally. On this giant city-planet, he just happened to be right in my path on the day he arrived. More than that, he remembered me. I wonder just how much he remembers, how much the alcohol and chaos might have erased that night a year ago. Before I can even change clothes, I’m asleep on top of the covers of my bed, a smile on my face. 

— Cheers float in the chilled atmosphere, our breathing giving life to ghosts that float around us, mingling with the smoke of the bonfire. They did it. The 501st saved the planet of Mondrilla from the incoming Separatist threat. So now we celebrate. Cheap alcohol smuggled in by the more rowdy clones is passed around the fire, and food is spread around on makeshift tables made of ammo storage. I and the two other medics, a man and a woman, join in the clone’s revelry. The Jedi, figures I’d only seen in passing shadows, sit on the outskirts of the fire, talking quietly and observing. Rex is drunk, and his attempts at telling jokes leave us all laughing. Echo is arguing with a clone I don’t recognize over spilled rations and drinks and somewhere a radio kicks to life. Crackling, distant music gets many clones on their feet, clapping and shuffling about. Almost immediately, the other two medics are swept up in dances, and I watch from the rim of my cup as I sway to the music alone. I would dance, but observing is so much more fun. Seeing the bright, happy faces, seeing the energy pass from one brother to the next. A warm body stands next to me, knocking his cup into mine. “Cheers, Soph.” Fives smiles and downs his drink, clearly already feeling the effects. His cheeks are a warm red and his smile is lazy. I down my drink. We’re talking, laughing. Then suddenly I’m twirling, and we’re dancing. How did we end up here? The stars above me swirl as I spin and laugh. Fives’ arms are warm around me, and he lifts me up. He’s gazing up at me, eyes beaming and I can’t help but grin back down at him. I’m lowered to the ground, and we aren’t spinning anymore but the world around me continues to. It happens so fast. Our lips meet in a crash, heat flooding me, as I smile through the kiss.---

I wake up.

[captn-trex]

star wars masterlist

all works are x fem!reader unless specified

if you like a fic I would really appreciate a reblog <3 tumblr thrives on sharing and so do I ! if you want, you can be added to/removed from my taglist here :)

— series

technical devotion: echo x fem! original character — complete, 72k words, 24 parts

shadows of kamino: [rex, fives, hunter, tech & crosshair] x fem! original characters — ongoing

threads of the unseen: ahsoka x f!reader

part one: tread carefully | 5.4k part two: forging connection | 4.2k [coming soon]

— events

200 follower celebration event: clone x reader song inspired fics

— oneshots

501st legion

captain rex let me take care of you [16+] | 5.7k make it feel better [18+] | 4.3k playing pretend | 4.2k where trust falls apart | 4.7k fall of an empire | no pairing | 1.4k comfort (drabble) | 948

arc trooper fives gone, but not forgotten | 4.4k ↳ how to feel again | 3.1k my kingdom for a kiss [18+] | 8.7k

clone medic kix a tricky situation | 2.8k

clone trooper hardcase oldest trick in the book | 3.4k

the bad batch

sergeant hunter a little while longer | 4.1k a half-hearted escape | 3.4k

clone trooper tech we never quite made it | 10k

clone trooper crosshair brightest in the dark | 9.2k

arc trooper echo lonely tonight | 1k

misc. clones 

commander wolffe words in my mouth | 3.7k consequences be damned | 3.3k

commander fox read between the lines | 8.1k

captain howzer angel of small death [18+] part 1, part 2, part 3 | 24k

[bunny7567]

I got you - Rex x Jedi!OFC Lexie

~ Series Navigation post ~

Series warnings/tags: slow burn; idiots in love; a lot of angst; a few NSFW 18+ chapters; canon-typical violence; sometimes graphic descriptions of injuries; Echo and Fives appear a lot because I love them; more detailed warnings on each chapter

Description: Lexie's life gets thrown upside-down when her Master up and leaves her during the First Battle of Geonosis. With the help of a clone trooper, she manages to take charge of a squad, but gets severely injured during the fight. Waking up after months of being in a coma and with little recollection of what happened, Lexie is knighted and thrown into the war. An anxious person who's always struggled with emotional attachment, Lexie's wish to prove herself worthy of her new role as a General and her compassion will come into conflict as the war progresses and she gets closer to the men created to fight in it... and even closer than she probably should to a certain Captain.

~ Chapters

NSFW 18+ chapters marked with 🔥

Chapter 1 ~ 3.8k

Chapter 2 ~ 6.1k

Chapter 3 ~ 4.8k

Chapter 4 ~ 5.5k

Chapter 5 ~ 4.7k

Chapter 6 ~ 4.6k

Chapter 7 ~ 5k

Chapter 8 ~ 5.1k

Chapter 9 ~ 7.2k

Chapter 10 🔥 ~ 5.5k

Chapter 11 ~ 5.5k

Chapter 12 🔥 ~ 7.2k

Chapter 13 ~ 5.6k

Chapter 14 ~ 4.6k

Chapter 15 🔥 ~ 7.1k

Chapter 16 🔥 ~ 7.9k

Chapter 17 🔥 ~ 6.7k

Chapter 18 ~ 6.4k

Chapter 19 ~ 5.4k

Chapter 20 ~ 7.2k

Chapter 21 ~ 7.6k

Chapter 22 ~ 5.7k

Chapter 23 ~ 7.4k

Chapter 24 ~

~ Extras

Hospital visits (Rex's pov) - best read after chapter 5 ~ 5.5k

Rough idea of what Lexie looks like

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There's more chapters to come so if anyone would like to be tagged let me know